During their journey, the convoy encountered several scattered mobs of Abhorrents. None matched the scale of their initial ambush, and most were comprised of low-tier Fleshspawns or lone Howlers that charged recklessly into turret fire. Thanks to their tightened formation and disciplined watch rotations, these threats were swiftly neutralized with minimal effort.
The travel spanned two days, a steady crawl marked by moments of tense alertness and periods of relative calm. They rotated shifts for rest inside the armored transports, eating preserved rations and cycling energy to keep the equipment charged.
By midday on the second day, static buzzed through the comms before a clear voice came through.
"We are now approaching the ruined mining town," announced Gil, the leader of Unit 6.
Ahead of them stretched a wide valley flanked by jagged hills, their stone faces streaked with ancient mineral veins. The town itself was barely intact, crumbling stone structures scattered around the mouth of a gaping mine entrance, now choked by half-buried debris.
The convoy slowed and rolled into the ruins, careful to avoid unstable ground. Once they reached a flat, semi-secure clearing near the town center, the vehicles came to a halt.
"Everyone get ready, search and secure the perimeter," came Dietrich's voice over the command line.
Teams deployed quickly. The Wardens spread out to sweep the nearby buildings, while Divers from both units scouted the outskirts and ridgelines. A few wandering Fleshspawns emerged from broken alleyways or behind shattered rock walls but were quickly dispatched with rifle bursts and close-range blades.
Within the hour, the area was declared secure. Teams gathered near the center of the ruins for a mission briefing. Miners checked their equipment as commanders finalized plans.
"Wardens will be responsible for guarding the camp," Dietrich began, projecting his voice over the assembled group. "Divers Units 6 and 12 will escort the Miners into the mine. Our objective is to map the tunnel system, mark any viable veins, and assess overall safety. No unnecessary risks."
As the leaders dismissed, Rook pulled Unit 12 aside and relayed their part in the operation.
"We're splitting into pairs once inside," he said. "Expect low visibility and rough terrain. Stay close, keep communications tight."
With the plan in place, the teams turned to setting up camp.
The Wardens were already hard at work erecting perimeter barriers. Using Flux tools, they cut and stacked local stone into makeshift watch towers, positioning them along natural chokepoints at the valley edge. Portable energy fences flickered to life around the convoy's perimeter, forming a dome of soft blue light.
The haulers were parked at the camp's heart, their reinforced hulls towering like metallic beasts among the scattered tents and hastily erected structures. Their placement was deliberate serving both as secured storage hubs and emergency fallback shelters in case of a breach. Massive stabilizers extended from their flanks, anchoring them to the uneven ground, while automated servos hummed beneath their armored plating.
Each hauler housed a portable Flux reactor, its core pulsing faintly with a steady blue glow. The dual reactors worked in tandem, projecting a low-radius stabilization field over the camp's perimeter, just enough to repel residual Miasma and keep equipment running without interference. The compact generators were more than enough to sustain camp lighting, scanning gear, medical stations, and perimeter wards.
Cables were dragged from their undercarriages, snaking across the ground toward various points around the camp, powering communications tents, automated turrets, and the portable scanner arrays deployed by the engineers. A thin mist of harmless Flux residue clung to the air, a telltale sign of the reactor's operation. Some of the Wardens and Divers paused occasionally to warm their gloved hands near the vents, grateful for the subtle heat they provided in the chill mountain air.
From the top of one hauler, a mounted sensor rig slowly rotated—its lens sweeping the valley's rim for movement.
Around them, tents rose quickly, sturdy and insulated frames reinforced with woven fibers. Divers set up their quarters and checked weapons
From their elevated vantage points, the hills loomed around them like silent sentinels, casting long shadows over the valley floor.
With the camp stabilized and nightfall behind them, morning brought clarity and motion. The Wardens finished their night rotation with little incident, only the distant howls of stragglers echoing faintly through the valley. As dawn light crept over the ruined mining town, preparations began.
Team A, Unit 6 and five assigned miners, stood by the cave entrance with gear strapped tight, final checks complete. Their objective: begin mapping the suspected mine network beneath the valley and identify any remnants of a usable mineral vein. They would lead the first descent.
Team B, composed of Unit 12 and the remaining five miners, was assigned to standby duty for the day. While Team A handled the first descent into the mine, Team B would remain above ground to rest, and prepare.
The two teams would rotate daily, alternating shifts between surface rest and underground operations to maintain efficiency and reduce fatigue.
With no immediate assignments for the day, Rook gathered Unit 12 beside one of the haulers. The miners were preparing tools and taking stock of their gear, while the Wardens manned the perimeter watchtowers.
Rook glanced at his team and said with a calm tone.
"We'll make use of the time."
"Fan out and scout the valley. Check the terrain, track movement signs and anything out of place. We go solo to cover ground faster, but don't stray too far or fall out of comms range."
Everyone gave a nod in understanding. The valley stretched wide between scattered hills, its jagged edges partially overgrown with resilient scrub. Old paths and collapsed structures hinted at past activity, but the land had long been reclaimed by silence.
Asrel checked his rifle and quietly slipped off toward the north, the others dispersing in different directions without a word.
The landscape is sloping upward into a jagged ridge line. Cracked stones and scattered bones lay buried under coarse grass and dust. Visibility was decent, but the terrain was treacherous.
He moved fast at first, scanning for trails or footprints, noting elevation changes and wind direction. Then, after ensuring he was far from any patrol lines, he slipped into a pocket behind a rock shelf, concealed and naturally shielded.
He knelt down and closed his eyes.
Ever since he entered the Outpost, Asrel had controlled the absorption of energy to the minimum and starved his Chaos Core. Using it would stir too much Miasma, and would garner unwanted attention. But here, out in the field and far from watchful eyes, he could finally let it breathe.
His body began drawing in the Miasma like a living void. It came in waves, thick tendrils of invisible vapor flowing toward him, consumed and refined into raw, volatile energy. The air shivered, reacting to the sudden vacuum forming around him.
'The Miasma reacts more violently here… I need to keep it just low enough not to trigger alarms.'
Dark energy laced around his skin as the Chaos within him churned but kept it under strict control.
Once the draw stabilized, Asrel slowed the feed and shifted his thoughts toward a new idea, one sparked since knowing about reactors. Flux Reactors processed Miasma, refining it into usable energy. It was disturbingly similar to what his Chaos Core did naturally, break down ambient corruption and transmute it.
But what if he could reverse part of the process?
'If Flux is produced by refining Miasma, could I produce usable Flux by regulating the Chaos Core's output?'
He took a risk.
Guiding his Chaos energy, he slowed the core's rhythm and attempted to stabilize its discharge. Instead of allowing the core to consume and convert recklessly, he trapped a fragment of its refined energy.
Then, with utmost precision, he concentrated and compressed it toward a neutral state.
A thin wisp of light flickered, faint, pale blue with a darker core. It looks closer to Flux but not as stable.
He couldn't sustain it for long. The moment his focus faltered, the energy reverted, snapping back into chaotic pulses that scattered into the environment.
Asrel took a breath, then exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he focused inward.
He began the process once more, directing the ambient Miasma into the spinning core within his chest, the Chaos core. The violent, hungry core reacted immediately, tearing the energy apart in its usual aggressive rhythm. But Asrel held it in place, restraining it just long enough for something different.
This time, he introduced an additional layer of intent.
He adjusted the spin of the Chaos core, forcing it into a higher rotational speed to pull apart the Miasma. The separation came faster this way, the raw components of the energy unraveling at the edges of the spin. But rather than letting the Chaos core devour everything, Asrel interjected his other core, the Flux core.
He spun the Flux core in the opposite direction, setting up a counter-rotation just beyond the gravitational influence of the Chaos core. In between the two cores, he began to form a filter, a narrow space forged using both Chaos and Flux, where he could isolate the usable energies from the chaotic sludge.
The result was crude at first. Some energy slipped through the cracks. Some impurities contaminated the Flux core and disrupted its rhythm. But Asrel continued refining the process, adjusting spin rates, filtering pressure, control depth.
Again. And again.
Each attempt brought more control.
Eventually, the breakthrough came.
He struck the balance, Chaos core spinning faster, devouring the waste and feeding off the volatile fragments, while the Flux core stabilized in its slower counter-rotation, cleanly drawing in the purified strands of energy filtered through the field he had crafted between them. The process had no waste product. Everything was used.
Asrel's eyes opened slightly, a faint glow reflecting within the iris.
'So… I'm a walking reactor now?'
Compared to traditional Flux reactors, complicated machines built to process Miasma by forcing it through synthetic filters, while his method was astonishingly efficient. Standard reactors always produced waste: filtered impurities saturated with corrupted energy that required destruction through secondary systems, often fueled by the very Flux they generated. It was always a tradeoff.
But him? No waste. No burnout. Everything looped, Chaos fed on the refuse, Flux drew from the cleaned essence.
He sat there a moment longer, letting the energy stabilize.
He felt stronger. More efficient. But while the intake process was solved, he knew the real problem remained: how to advance his Flux core beyond its current Refined state, especially without engraving it into a body already claimed by Chaos.
With this technique, he could keep growing both cores in tandem.
Now, he could shift his focus toward evolving the structure of the Flux core itself. Toward bypassing its limits.
Toward unlocking the next stage.
With the surrounding terrain thoroughly scouted and no immediate threats detected, Asrel spent the rest of his allotted time focusing inward. He centered his breathing, allowing the rhythm of his heartbeat to sync with the steady churn of his twin cores. With the new method of filtration in place, he absorbed Miasma in steady pace.
By the time the sun crept past its zenith, Asrel finally drew a long breath and rose from his position. His body felt lighter, energy circulating smoothly through his limbs. He checked his surroundings once more, then began his descent back to camp.
When Asrel returned to the camp, a familiar hum of activities greeted him. Wardens moved in formation along the perimeter, maintaining the defenses. Engineers among the miners were rechecking power links from the Flux reactors.
Just as he passed the central line of supply crates, he spotted the returning figures of Team A emerging from the mine entrance. Their gear was dirtied, some faces smudged with dust and sweat, but no major injuries were visible, only the fatigue of careful exploration.
Unit 6 walked beside the five miners they had escorted. They carried scanning tools, rolled-up maps, and a set of crystal slates used to record
fluctuations within the mine.
Rook approached from the opposite direction, flanked by Brenn and Kick. Dietrich, the Warden commander, stepped forward to join Gil.
The discussion moved quickly into debriefing. Gil produced a set of updated maps, showing the rough tunnels explored during the first descent.
"There's a collapsed section west of the main shaft."
One of the miners explained, gesturing to a glowing mark on the map.
"We marked off unstable sections."
added a Unit 6 operative.
"We'll need a second dive deeper into the central vein to confirm viability," another miner added, wiping sweat from his brow.
Dietrich folded his arms. "Then Team B preps tomorrow. Unit 12 escorts the next group. We follow the same protocol."
With all data compiled and the updated maps recorded, the briefing concluded. The camp returned to its rhythm as preparation for the next day already underway.
Asrel glanced once toward the dark mouth of the mine beyond the perimeter.
Tomorrow, it would be his turn to descend into its depths.