They stayed at the window for a long time, silent and unseen observers of the new order asserting itself on their world. The shambling constructs moved with a chilling, synchronized purpose that was utterly alien to the chaotic, animalistic fury of the Scuttlers or the elemental rage of the Guardian. They were an army on patrol, their heavy, mismatched feet thudding on the asphalt with a rhythm that spoke of a single, unified intelligence.
"They're... cleaning," Elara whispered, her voice barely audible. Her newfound confidence as a swordswoman seemed to shrink in the face of this cold, calculated threat. "They're not just killing. They're harvesting."
"Collectors," Ben murmured, his eyes wide with a terrifying, intellectual curiosity. He had already processed the initial shock and was now in full analysis mode. "That's what they are. Notice the lack of any biological components. They're constructs, golems assembled from the detritus of our world. Their power source is that central core, that purple light. And their behavior is systematic. They are patrolling, yes, but they are also sanitizing the area of competing hostile entities."
One of the Collectors, its arm a twisted length of rebar, impaled a wounded Gutter Scuttler that was trying to crawl away. It then calmly lifted the still-twitching monster and fed it into its torso-maw, its purple core flaring with satisfaction.
"They're consuming the Rift-spawn," Kai said, his mind racing to process the implications. "They're not on the same 'team'. This isn't just one invading force. It's... it's a war. And we're caught in the middle of it."
The hope that had filled the lab only minutes before now felt fragile, naive. Their plan to scavenge the student union at dawn, which had seemed so bold and proactive, now sounded like a suicide mission.
"So we can't go," Elara said, her hand tightening on the hilt of the saber Kai had given her. "We can't walk across the quad with that out there."
"No," Kai said, turning from the window. His face was grim, but his eyes were clear, his resolve unshaken. "The plan doesn't change. The method changes. We still need those supplies. We need them now more than ever."
He looked at his team. "We can't fight them head-on. We saw how many there were. We have to be smarter. We watch them. We learn their patrol routes, their timing, their blind spots. We become ghosts. We get in, we get what we need, and we get out without them ever knowing we were there."
The sheer audacity of the plan hung in the air. To move unseen through a battlefield patrolled by an army of monster-killing golems.
Ben was the first to nod. A manic, determined glint appeared in his eyes. "Stealth and subterfuge. An acceptable tactical pivot. However, it necessitates a contingency plan for when stealth inevitably fails." He turned and marched with renewed purpose to the chemical storage cabinet. "I'll need a few hours. I believe I can fabricate a series of percussive chemical reaction devices. Loud, bright, and an excellent source of misdirection."
"You mean bombs," Elara deadpanned.
"I mean 'persuasive deterrents'," Ben corrected her, already pulling out beakers and flasks. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
As Ben became a whirlwind of focused, alchemical energy, Kai and Elara took on the role of sentries. They set up a watch schedule, taking turns observing the Collectors' movements from the lab window, noting their paths, their speed, the intervals between patrols. The picture that emerged was terrifying. The Collectors were efficient, methodical, and they missed nothing.
As Kai took his watch, staring down at the disciplined, marching horrors below, he felt the nature of his System-driven world shift. It wasn't just a game of killing monsters and leveling up anymore. That was the simple, brutal arithmetic of the Rifts. This new force, the Collectors, they felt like the game's moderators, its terrifying, silent administrators.
The world wasn't just ending in a storm of random chaos. It was being systematically, intelligently unmade. And to survive, they would have to be just as intelligent, and far more ruthless.