The Geothermal Pylon didn't hum. It breathed.
Deep, tectonic vibrations shuddered through the marble floor. Every three seconds, magma-red light pumped up the obsidian spike. Raw thermal energy dumped into the converter.
THUMP... HISS.
Heat rolled off the monolith. Physical waves of force.
The wall gauge climbed. -10°C... -5°C... 0°C.
Frost on the windows didn't melt. It shattered. Sheets of ice peeled away and crashed onto the floor like broken glass. Dry, charged heat filled the room.
Luna hunched in her wheelchair. Red light painted her grease-stained face. Her hands hovered over the interface. Shaking.
"500 kilowatts," she whispered. "Stable. Alex, look at this. Hydroponics. Armor charging. Infinite power."
"We can build a slaughterhouse," Alex interrupted.
He ignored the marvel of engineering. A red box blinked in his peripheral vision.
[Seismic Alert: Level 2]
[The Basement is waking up.]
The vibration wasn't just power. It was a dinner bell. Heat leaking into the building's skeleton signaled every frozen nightmare in the foundation.
Alex walked to the center of the living room. He opened his inventory.
CRASH.
Two massive, translucent objects hit the floor. Queen's Serrated Scythes. Seven feet of organic bio-metal. Harder than diamond. They stank of the Mantis's internal fluids.
Next to them, a glowing blue scroll dropped.
[Blueprint: Death-Scythe Sentry Turret]
"Stop worshiping the heater," Alex said. He kicked the scythes toward her. "I spent my fortune. I need a return on investment."
Luna looked at the scythes. Then the blueprint. The survivor vanished. The engineer took over.
"Mount these?" She wheeled closer. She ran a finger along the serrated edge. Skin split immediately. "Chitin is Grade S. My tools won't scratch it."
"You have infinite power." Alex walked to the industrial fabricator. He flipped the master breaker.
TH-THUNK.
Green lights blazed. The machine woke up.
"Overclock the laser cutter," Alex commanded. "Bypass safety limits. Burn the motor? We buy another. Just cut it."
Luna looked at the thick power cable.
"Overclock." A jagged grin split her face. "I can run the arc welder at 400 amps. I can melt tungsten."
"Do it. You have four hours."
The penthouse ceased to be a home. It became a forge.
SCREEEE.
The laser cutter hit the Queen's chitin. It screamed. Purple sparks sprayed the room. Scorch marks ruined the luxury wallpaper.
Smoke filled the air. Sharp ozone mixed with the sick, sweet stench of cooked insect meat.
Alex stood guard by the window. AA-12 in hand. He watched the white void. The blizzard intensified. It masked the tremors rising from below.
[Time Until Breach: Estimated 3 Hours]
Luna worked.
The Pylon fed the machines. Lights held steady. The arc welder hissed, a blinding star in the center of the room.
She stripped motors from the broken elevator winch. High-torque industrial engines. Designed to lift two tons of steel.
She fused them to heavy steel tripods.
She cut the Queen's scythes into six curved blades. Balanced them on a central titanium hub.
"Torque test," Luna yelled.
She flipped a switch.
WHIRRRRR.
The motor spun up. The hub blurred. The blades vanished. A translucent disc of death screamed at 2,000 RPM.
Wind from the blades knocked over a stack of books. The sound vibrated in the chest. Low. Terrifying.
"Stable!" Luna laughed. Manic. "It's a blender. A meat blender."
Alex looked at the twin machines.
Ugly. Welded steel. Exposed wires. Motors smelling of hot grease.
But the business end was pure art.
[System Notification]
[Crafting Complete]
[Item Created: Melee Sentry - "The Reaper" (x2)]
[Grade: Rare (Blue)]
[Damage: Extreme (Physical)]
[Power Source: Direct Line (Geothermal)]
[Special: Zero Ammo Cost. 100% Dismemberment Chance.]
"Two of them," Alex noted. "Good."
He touched the tripod. Cold steel. Heavy.
"Shut it down. We move."
Floor 20.
The stairwell narrowed here. Concrete walls channeled the cold air from below. A chimney.
The choke point.
Below, the stairs widened into the atrium. Above, the path led straight to the Penthouse.
If the Horde wanted heat, they had to climb this throat.
"Set them up," Alex ordered.
He carried the first unit. Strength 5.0 made the 200-pound assembly feel like a backpack. Luna rolled the power cables down. Thick black snakes trailed back to the Pylon on Floor 24.
They bolted the turrets to the landing.
One on the left, welded to the railing. One on the right, drilled into the wall.
Blades positioned at shin height and waist height. A crossfire of steel.
"Power," Alex said.
Luna jammed the heavy connectors into the housing.
HUM.
The Reapers came online. Red standby lights blinked in the dark.
They waited. Motion sensors—cannibalized from the drone—scanned the stairs below.
"Trigger range?" Alex asked.
"Five meters," Luna said. She wiped soot from her forehead. "Anything moves on Floor 19, these things spin. It turns the landing into pink mist."
Alex looked down the dark spiral. Silence hung heavy. Not empty. Full of holding breath.
"Go back up," Alex said. "Lock the door. Weld it shut."
"You're staying?"
"I'm the bait." Alex racked the bolt of his AA-12. "They need a reason to climb."
Luna nodded. She wheeled back up the ramp.
Alex stood alone on the landing. He leaned against the wall, between the two silent machines.
He closed his eyes. Perception 3.0 expanded.
He filtered out the wind. He filtered out the cable hum.
He listened to the concrete.
Scritch... Scritch...
Faint. Like rats in the walls.
Then it grew.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thousands of feet. Naked, frozen meat slapping against stone. Claws digging into drywall.
It sounded like water rushing through a pipe. A rising tide of rot.
Alex opened his eyes. He checked the drum.
"Come on," he whispered.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Rhythm synchronized.
Deep in the building's throat, thousands of dead feet struck concrete. Vibration traveled up the rebar. Dust shook from the ceiling tiles on Floor 20.
Alex stood motionless between the silent Reapers. The [Inferno Gauntlet] hummed on his left arm. Fuel low. Lethal. The AA-12 stock dug into his shoulder.
Motion sensors were redundant.
Air pressure shifted.
Wind rushed up the stairwell. Not the clean, frozen gale from outside. Warm wind. Moist. It reeked of copper, burst bowels, and wet rot.
The Horde pushed a thermal column ahead of them.
Beep.
Red light flashed on the Reaper control box.
[Motion Detected: Floor 18]
Beep. Beep.
[Motion Detected: Floor 19]
Fast.
Alex leaned over the railing. The dark spiral swallowed the light.
Shapes peeled off the blackness. Not one or two. A carpet.
They vaulted railings. They scaled walls. Grey, emaciated things with distended jaws and milky eyes. They climbed over each other like corpse-ants.
The moan hit him. A low, wet gurgle rising from three thousand throats.
"Meat..."
Not a word. A frequency.
[System Alert] [Seismic Activity Critical] [Horde Wave 1: Arriving] [Enemy Count: 3,240]
Three thousand.
Alex checked the number. He checked the two stationary blades of the Reapers.
"Mathematically," Alex muttered. He backed toward the heavy security door of Floor 21. "That's a lot of mulch."
The first Ghoul vaulted the railing of Floor 19. It looked up. Saw Alex. Shrieked.
Stampede triggered.
Noise detonated in the stairwell. Screams. Scrabbling claws. The wet slap of flesh on metal.
They surged up the final flight. A wall of grey teeth and hunger.
Alex stepped behind the Reapers. He didn't fire. He didn't run.
He grabbed the industrial power switch.
"Welcome to the blender."
He threw the lever.
WHIRRRRRRRRRRR.
Motors screamed. The Queen's Scythes blurred into invisible discs of death.
The Horde hit the landing.