# CHAPTER 35: ZETA-4 QUARRY

  The blue shimmer of the portal dissipated, and the smell of scorched stone, oil, and dust hit them like a physical blow.

  They found themselves on the edge of a colossal, spiraling quarry. Its scale was staggering: a gigantic funnel drilled kilometers deep into the earth. The walls were honeycombed with thousands of tunnels, from which carts filled with glowing ore constantly emerged.

  Work was boiling everywhere, accompanied by a cacophony of mechanical grinding and humming.

  "Location: 'Zeta-4 Quarry'," Marcus scanned the terrain, his new optics adjusting instantly. "Era: 2145. Industrial Zone."

  Below, like ants, hundreds of robots scurried about. These were strange creatures: instead of humanoid torsos, they had armored ore containers; instead of legs, caterpillar tracks or spider-like limbs; and instead of hands, jackhammers, saws, and plasma cutters.

  And at the very bottom, in the center of this metallic anthill, a mountain of metal towered—a gigantic **Excavator-Robot**, shoveling rock with a bucket the size of a truck. Its work made the quarry floor vibrate like the beating heart of the mountain.

  ### TEST OF "SILENT DEATH"

  "Intruders!" boomed one of the collector robots passing by. Its sensors flashed yellow, and it triggered a piercing siren that echoed off the walls of the pit.

  Five nearby mechanisms immediately swiveled their turrets toward Vance and Marcus.

  "Level 35," Marcus stated coldly. "Class: Worker. Aggression: Group."

  He raised his new rifle, "Silent Death." The grip fit perfectly into his palm, humming slightly as it synced with his energy signature.

  *Click.*

  The sound of the shot was barely audible, like a dry snap of fingers. But the effect was instantaneous.

  A thin red beam pierced the first robot through and through. The electromagnetic projectile didn't just penetrate the armor—it caused the battery inside the container to detonate. The robot was torn apart, scattering nuts and gears across the path.

  Marcus didn't even pause.

  *Click. Click. Click.*

  Three more robots fell, reduced to piles of smoking scrap before they could travel five meters. The last robot, witnessing the destruction of its "colleagues," tried to turn around, but the beam caught it in the processor unit.

  "Efficiency 99.8%," the sniper commented, reloading the rails. "They are too soft for this weapon."

  ### THUNDERFALL

  Vance stood with his massive white arms crossed over his chest. The "Squall" autocannon on his left arm hummed quietly, awaiting a command, but at this range, it was bored.

  "Marcus, are you going to pick them off one by one until evening?" the Juggernaut rumbled, watching new squads of enemies rising from below. "I want to stretch my legs."

  "I am clearing the path tactically," Marcus replied, taking out another drone peeking from a tunnel.

  "Screw tactics," Vance barked. "Cover me. I'm going for the big one."

  Vance accelerated and simply jumped off the edge of the ledge.

  It was a fall of several tons. He flew like a white meteorite.

  Vance landed on a lower tier of the spiral, right into a crowd of welding robots.

  **BOOM!**

  The shockwave from the landing was so powerful that the nearest robots were simply blown into the abyss, and those directly under his feet were flattened into metallic pancakes. The Alpha-Tyrannosaurus bone skeleton made Vance's mass a devastating weapon.

  Vance didn't stop. He ran down the spiral, ignoring the laser cutters and saws trying to scratch his carapace. He simply bowled robots over with his shoulders, scattering them like skittles. Occasionally, he cut the path again, jumping down to lower tiers. Each landing caused a localized earthquake. The quarry shuddered.

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  Marcus, remaining on the high ground, barely kept up with covering his partner, surgically removing turrets and sniper bots attempting to target Vance's back.

  "He's insane," Marcus smiled beneath his mask. "But effective."

  ### THUNDER IN THE ABYSS

  Vance reached the bottom. Before him, the Boss unfolded—**"The Demolisher Bulldozer" (Level 40)**.

  The machine was enormous. Its bucket could bite a tank in half, and its tracks stood taller than a man. The Bulldozer roared, venting steam, and focused its blinding spotlights on Vance.

  Behind Vance, an army of smaller robots that had descended after him was gathering.

  "Your metal will make fine nails!" Vance roared.

  He activated his right gauntlet, "Fracture." The Golden Core in his chest flared, transferring colossal energy into the grav-pistons. Vance's fist began to vibrate, distorting the space around it; the air crackled with static.

  The Bulldozer surged forward, lowering its bucket to crush the insolent white ant.

  Vance used his boosters, sliding under the bucket's strike, and delivered an uppercut from below, aiming straight for the mechanism's armored cab.

  The collision sounded like a thunderclap.

  A blinding golden flash filled the quarry floor. The sound was as if the sky had cracked open.

  A massive cloud of dust and debris rose up, obscuring the view. Marcus stopped shooting from above, peering through his optics.

  When the dust settled, he saw a scene worthy of epic paintings.

  Vance stood amidst a heap of scorched, twisted metal. Of the formidable Bulldozer, only torn tracks and a cabin crumpled inward remained. The impact was so severe that the nuclear energy had disintegrated the Boss's electronics.

  Marcus descended using his stealth cloak. Vance dusted off his white shoulder.

  "Warm-up is over," he said, finishing off the last small robots with his autocannon. "Let's loot."

  **[RAID RESULTS]**

  * **Level:** Marcus (48 -> 49), Vance (50 -> 51).

  * **Currency:** 25,100 credits (total from mobs and Boss).

  * **Resources:** 4 tons of "Enriched Plasma-Ore" (Blue Quality) and Excavator parts.

  ### THE MYSTERY OF THE FIFTH PORTAL

  Back at the base, they unloaded the ore. Spark, scanning their vitals, nodded with satisfaction.

  "Tech is intact, you are intact. Test passed."

  "That was too easy," Marcus noted. "There were many mobs, but they were weak. Why did it throw us into hell last time?"

  Spark rolled over to the main screen.

  "I dug into the logs. And I found a pattern."

  He pointed to a graph.

  "Look. The first four launches are 'Farm Mode.' But the fifth peak is an energy spike."

  "What does that mean?" Vance asked.

  "Every **5th portal** the system automatically switches to 'Trial Mode.' It's a Boss Rush with increased difficulty."

  "So..." Marcus began to understand. "Our first trip to the Tyrannosaurus was the 5th?"

  "Exactly," Spark nodded. "Someone used this portal 3 times before us. We went in for the 4th (the first easy one), and then immediately the 5th. We opened the door to Hell ourselves."

  "Meaning, this was the 1st of a new cycle," Vance concluded. "We have three safe raids left. And then another trial."

  ### A GIFT FOR THE TYCOON

  Vance looked at the mountain of ore.

  "Time to do business."

  They fired up the Nano-Forge. Using 40% of the retrieved ore and robot parts, they quickly manufactured a batch of "premium" gear for sale:

  * **10 sets of "Steel Miner" Armor** (Blue Quality).

  * **10 "Hornet" Plasma Cutters** (Blue Quality).

  The remaining 60% of the ore was stored for base repairs.

  ### CHOOSING STANDARDS

  Marcus sat at the terminal and typed a message to Nexus.

  > **To:** Nexus [Trading House "Omni"]

  > **Subject:** Proposal

  > *Greetings. We have returned. Sending you a batch of elite gear as a gesture of goodwill. We want to legalize and buy land in Sector 7. We need a meeting with a representative of the authorities.*

  The reply came quickly, and it was longer than usual.

  > **From:** Nexus

  > **Subject:** Re: Proposal

  > *...Regarding the land—I can arrange it. But you must choose under whose patronage you wish to operate. A representative from one of the Guilds will come to the meeting. Choose:*

  >

  > 1. **"Techno-Priests"** — Science, implants. They hate magic and brute force.

  > 2. **"Legion of Steel"** — Pure military. Only combat contracts.

  > 3. **"Shadow Syndicate"** — Espionage and assassination.

  > 4. **"Guild Spectrum"**.

  > *This is an 'omnivorous' organization. They stick their noses into every sphere: from portal scouting and weapon crafting to Arena fights and information trading. Because of this, they have a terrible reputation. The Priests hate them for stealing tech. The Legion hates them for poaching fighters. The Syndicate hates them for undercutting market prices. They survive only because they earn a little from everything and provide services to those who don't want to deal with the 'Big Three.' Joining them means becoming a target for everyone else's criticism.*

  Marcus read the description aloud.

  "Nobody likes us anyway," Vance chuckled.

  Marcus began typing the reply: *"We choose Spectrum."*

  A second later, a new message from Nexus arrived, marked in red:

  > **[SYSTEM WARNING]**

  > *Are you sure? This is not the easiest path. If you choose "Spectrum," you gain access to all content (Arena, Crafting, Raids), but you become competitors to the entire city. You will be tested for durability.

  > And remember: once you swear allegiance to a Guild, there is no turning back. You are obligated to perform their tasks occasionally. Betrayal or leaving the Guild is punished with "Renegade" status.

  > Renegades aren't hired. They are killed or driven into the Gray Zone, where wild scavengers strip them for parts.

  > Are you ready to sign off on this?*

  Vance looked at Marcus.

  "What do you think, strategist?"

  Marcus analyzed the data for a few seconds.

  "The Techno-Priests will lock us in a lab. The Legion will send us as cannon fodder. The Syndicate will force us to hide. 'Spectrum' is chaos, but it is freedom of action. We can do everything: craft, kill, think. That is our format."

  Spark nodded with all four arms.

  "I am in favor. I want to sell my inventions to everyone, not just the chosen few. And 'Spectrum' allows trading with all. Let them hate us, as long as they pay."

  "Then it is decided," Vance said. "We are our own guild, essentially. We just need a 'roof' organization."

  Marcus typed the final response:

  > *We are certain. We choose "Spectrum." We are not afraid of competition. We are the competition.*

  The screen flashed green.

  > **From:** Nexus

  > *Accepted. The meeting will take place tomorrow at 12:00, Sector "Neutral Strip," Bar "Rusty Piston."

  > The representative's name is Vega. Do not be late. And for God's sake, put on some armor so you don't scare the patrons with your reactors.*

  "Well then," Vance activated the magnetic lock on his autocannon. "Tomorrow we officially stop being trash."