Ten minutes later, the sound of heavy tyres echoed through the ruined factory courtyard.
A massive black corporate transport vehicle rolled to a halt, filled by a squad of heavily armed mercenary hunters.
They didn't wear the standard, flashy guild armour but tactical corporate gear, their faces completely shaded by dark visors.
Maya stood by the open back doors, speaking quietly with the squad captain, rapidly assessing the situation and handing over a digital datapad.
Julien, sitting on his wooden crate, tilted his head.
Even through the thick, grey haze of his hijacked vision, he could hear the distinct sound of the heavy transport doors locking open, and Maya's boots remaining firmly planted on the concrete.
He leaned slightly to the side, bumping his shoulder against Chris.
"Hmm? You aren't coming?"
Maya glanced over her shoulder.
"If I go with you to play politics, who is going to clear this massive Red Gate before the second wave hits?"
