The refinery's eastern tunnels were a graveyard of industry, the air thick with the reek of corroded metal and the sweet-rot stench of decaying Oblivion crystals. Kael's boots crunched over shards of glass and brittle bone, his corrupted hand trailing along the wall, fingertips brushing the Inquisition's phoenix-and-chains sigil stamped into the rust. Every breath burned—not from exhaustion, but from the necrosis creeping up his ribs, blackening his veins like ink spilled under skin. Gutter stalked ahead, her crystalline fur dulled to a sickly bronze, her muzzle low as she sniffed for threats. Behind him, Mira's shard-eye cast jagged green shadows, scanning for traps, for drones, for anything worth salvaging in this tomb.
The whistle came first—sharp, mocking, slicing through the silence like a blade.
Ryn dropped from a gap in the ceiling, landing in a crouch with a knife in one hand and a smirk carved into his sharp, angular face. His cloak—a patchwork of drone armor and scavenged synth-fabric—rustled as he straightened, the frayed edges brushing the debris at his feet. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice rough as sandpaper. "The Walking Rot himself. Heard you've been giving the Inquisition a case of the shakes. Cute."
Kael's venom stirred, pooling in his palm with a wet hiss. "You've got three seconds to explain why I shouldn't melt your face off."
Ryn rolled his eyes, tossing a scorched canister at his feet. CHRYSALIS-X glinted in the dim light, its surface streaked with dried black fluid. "Because I just saved your rotting carcass. East tunnel's rigged with these. Breathe too deep, and you'll be coughing up Shard shards by sunrise."
Mira stepped forward, her shard-eye narrowing. "Prove it."
"Already did." Ryn nudged the canister with his boot. "But if you're itching for a tour, be my guest. I'll even toss flowers on your corpse."
Gutter growled, circling Ryn with her teeth bared, claws scoring grooves into the metal floor. Ryn didn't flinch. "Easy, mutt. I don't bite. Much."
Kael's gaze flicked to Mira. A silent question.
"He's lying," Mira said flatly, her shard-eye flickering as it analyzed the canister. "But not about the toxin."
Ryn snorted. "Your ghost's got trust issues. Can't blame her. This place'll do that." He jerked his chin toward the tunnel ahead. "There's a safer route. Maintenance shaft. Tight, but you'll live. Mostly."
The shaft was a claustrophobic nightmare, its walls slick with condensation and threaded with frayed Oblivion filaments that hummed like angry wasps. Ryn led, his lithe frame slipping through the debris with practiced ease. Kael followed, his shoulder scraping rust, his corrupted arm throbbing with every step. Gutter's whines echoed behind him, the dog's broad body wedged uncomfortably in the narrow space.
The shaft opened into a cavernous chamber, its vaulted ceiling strung with shattered glass and the skeletal remains of conveyor belts. Ryn spread his arms. "Home sweet—shit."
His boot hit a pressure plate.
The walls shuddered, disgorging a flood of molten Oblivion crystal from hidden vents. The liquid surged toward them, corrosive heat blistering the air, eating through the floor in a sizzling wave.
"Move!" Kael snarled, shoving Mira toward a scaffold.
Gutter lunged, dragging Ryn back by his cloak as the sludge seared the ground where he'd stood. Kael's venom lashed out, hardening into a jagged barrier between the group and the molten tide. The toxin sizzled, dissolving under the Shard-melt's intensity, inch by inch.
"Left!" Ryn yelled, scrambling toward a rusted hatch. "Go left!"
Kael's arm trembled, veins bulging black as he held the barrier. The melt splashed against it, spitting acid that ate through his gloves, searing his already-rotten skin.
Mira pried open the hatch. "Now, Kael!"
He dove through as the barrier collapsed. The melt swallowed the chamber behind them, its roar drowning out Ryn's curses.
In the cramped tunnel beyond, Kael slammed Ryn against the wall, his necrotic hand crushing his collar. "You led us into a trap."
Ryn wheezed, his smirk intact. "Didn't… know… Cross my shriveled heart."
Gutter snarled, fangs grazing Ryn's throat.
Mira held up her shard-eye, its green light projecting a refinery map. A fresh red mark pulsed where Ryn had entered. "He's been here before. Recently."
Ryn shrugged. "Guilty. I've been… borrowing Inquisition supplies. Thought you'd make good distractions."
Kael tightened his grip. "Why save us?"
"Because you're the only idiot suicidal enough to raid their labs," he spat. "And I want in."
He pulled a crumpled map from his cloak, thrusting it at Mira. "West cache. Meds, weapons, maybe even a cure for Mr. Rotting Charisma here."
Mira studied the map. "It's a trap."
"Obviously," Ryn said. "But the loot's real. And I know how to bypass their security. You need me."
Kael released him, venom dripping from his fingers. "One wrong move, and I'll feed you to the melt."
Ryn rubbed his throat, grinning. "Noted. Now, let's go rob some zealots."
As they navigated the tunnels, Ryn's chatter filled the silence. "Heard you took down a Progenitor in Sector 7. That true? Or did the mutt do all the work?"
Gutter snapped at his fingers.
"Feisty. I like it." Ryn tossed a rusted bolt at Kael. "What about you, Rot? You ever smile? Or does your face just… crack if you try?"
Kael ignored him, focusing on the map. The cache was marked near an old incinerator chute—a likely ambush point.
Mira's voice cut through the static. "Inquisition drones. Half a klick west."
Ryn froze. "Shit. They're early."
"You set this up," Kael growled.
"No. But I know how to end it." He grabbed a chunk of Oblivion crystal from his belt, hurling it into a shadowed alcove. The crystal detonated, the blast scattering drones like shrapnel. "Run!"
They sprinted, Gutter herding them through collapsing tunnels, Ryn's laughter sharp and wild. "See? Told you I'm useful!"
Kael didn't answer. His corrupted eye throbbed, his lungs raw, but for the first time in days, the silence felt less like a tomb.
By nightfall, they'd reached the cache—a vault sealed with Shard-resistant alloy. Ryn bypassed the locks with a stolen keycard, his hands steady. "Told you. Worth the hassle."
Inside: crates of antiseptic coils, shock rifles, and vials of silver liquid labeled NEUTRALIZER-7.
Mira pocketed a vial. "This could slow your decay. Temporarily."
Kael stared at the label. PROPERTY OF INQUISITION LAB 09-E.
Ryn leaned against the wall, sharpening his knife. "Don't get weepy, Rot. You'll ruin the moment."
Gutter growled, her gaze fixed on the shadows beyond the vault.
Mira's shard-eye flickered. "Drones. They're converging."
Ryn sighed. "Time to go. Try not to die before payday."
Kael grabbed his arm. "You're staying?"
"Until you're more trouble than you're worth." He grinned. "So… probably tomorrow."
As they fled into the night, Kael's veins burning with Neutralizer-7, Ryn's whistle echoed behind them—another mocking hymn. Gutter pressed against his leg, her warmth a silent anchor.
Mira's voice was cold, final. "He'll betray us."
"I know," Kael said.
But for now, the toxins were quiet, the drones distant, and the weight of the world felt fractionally lighter.