The travel vector, plotted on the holographic map in Osiris's visual interface, showed every turning point and high-risk zone meticulously marked.
He stepped out of the workshop. His dark red robe fluttered briefly in the dry, hot wind. His mechanical legs, driven by high-torque actuators, left deep, precise imprints in the soft sand, which were swiftly erased by the continuous wind and silt displacement.
A distance of seven kilometers was not a challenge for Osiris's bionic mobility, but the soft sandy terrain significantly increased the kinetic resistance. He periodically adjusted his stride frequency and sensor sensitivity, seeking the optimal balance between perimeter alertness and core energy consumption.
The scenery was monotonous and oppressive: continuous dunes, scattered weathered rock formations, and only occasional rusted metal wrecks. Osiris's multispectral optical sensors continuously scanned the surroundings, identifying unstable quicksand areas and several geological formations suitable for kinetic cover.
After over an hour of calculated traversal, the entrance to the abandoned Hydrocarbon Extraction Pit finally appeared in his sight. It was a gaping black maw, embedded in a weathered rock face. Scattered around the entrance were fragments of overturned mine carts and some pale bones half-buried in the sand.
Osiris paused at the cave entrance. His wrist-mounted sensor array emitted an almost inaudible hum as multiple scanning modes—thermal, life-form, and ground-penetrating radar—activated simultaneously.
Thermal detection showed several concentrated, small heat sources inside. Life form scans confirmed the vital signs of mutated creatures. The radar outlined the cave's basic structure, successfully capturing a faint energy signature deep within the rock.
He adjusted his optical sensors to low-light mode and stepped into the mine shaft. Cool, damp air, thick with the smell of mold and biological musk, assailed his filtration systems.
The cave system was multi-branching, but the primary passage was clearly discernible. Not far in, a dry rustling sound came from the darkness ahead, followed by a dozen pairs of crimson eyes illuminating the void.
They were mutated weasels, more numerous and seemingly larger than those neutralized in the town. Their exposed fangs dripped corrosive saliva.
Osiris did not break his stride. The mechadendrites on his back shot out like living killing machines. Precise stabs pierced craniums; swift, focused strikes shattered spines, accompanied only by the sound of bone fragmentation and the short, mechanical failure of the creatures' biological systems. The crimson eyes extinguished one after another.
The deeper he progressed, the lower the lumen level dropped. Following the real-time structural map provided by his internal sensors, he unhesitatingly selected optimal vectors at multiple forks, steadily approaching the energy signal source.
The source was a small side chamber, where several long-rusted drilling machines and a device resembling a backup generator were piled.
Just as Osiris approached the generator, intending to check for residual charge, a crude, aggressive shout echoed from another branch of the cave.
"Oi! Chrome-head! That scratch is ours!"
Eight figures emerged from the darkness, blocking his retreat. They wore patched rags and had rudimentary, clearly second-hand cybernetic modifications. They carried antique ballistic firearms or crude homemade knives and axes.
Osiris's threat assessment system completed its analysis instantly: "Target: Human. Quantity: Eight. Armament level: Low. Threat level: Low."
Osiris slowly turned, the cold red light of his optical lenses prominent in the blackness. His silence and inhuman form exerted an immediate, heavy pressure.
The burly individual leading the group brandished the rusty iron pipe in his hand. "You deaf, choom? This pit's been claimed! Drop whatever you jacked and skedaddle!"
Osiris did not respond. He continued his work, extending a precision manipulator to begin disassembling the generator casing. This technical disregard immediately triggered the expected psychological response in the vagrants.
"Gonk! Flatline this tin-plated input!" the burly man roared, raising his weapon to fire.
At that exact micro-second, Osiris's system had already calculated and executed a pre-emptive neutralization sequence.
As the first vagrant engaged his trigger mechanism, Osiris executed a calculated lateral displacement; the projectile merely grazed the hem of his robe.
The resulting engagement was brief and absolute.
Two mechadendrites shot out like venomous snakes of chrome: one accurately pierced the ocular cavity of the primary shooter; the other directly penetrated the throat of the second individual raising a weapon.
Simultaneously, Osiris's Custom Bolt Pistol was already in his grip. He fired three rounds with zero-latency aiming.
The small-caliber bolts produced a deafening percussion in the narrow cave.
The first shot impacted the burly man's sternum, sending his mass flying backward against a rock wall. The second struck the shoulder joint of a scavver charging with an axe, catastrophically separating the arm from the torso. The third found the cranium of an enemy attempting to use a mine cart as cover.
In an instant, three primary threats were neutralized.
The remaining five froze, staring at their fallen comrades and the untouched, terrifying figure of the Tech-Priest. Their will to continue the engagement collapsed.
"Don't, don't kill us!" a young scavver threw down his improvised weapon, dropped to his knees, and raised his hands. The others followed suit, discarding their rusted implements in terrified surrender.
Osiris's sensors confirmed that these individuals no longer registered as a hostile threat. He returned his Custom Bolt Pistol to its magnetic port, his mechadendrites remaining in an alert configuration.
"Disengage and retreat," the cold synthetic voice issued from beneath his faceplate.
The surviving vagrants, as if granted a great pardon from the Machine God, scrambled out of the cave, neglecting even the valuable gear on their companions' bodies.
Osiris calmly assessed the immediate battlefield. He confirmed no further ambush threats, then refocused on the generator.
He carefully cut open the casing with his low-power plasma cutter and extracted a large, heavy, but still faintly charged high-energy battery pack—the label identified it as a "Thunder-7" industrial battery.
He also salvaged several usable cables and voltage regulators.
"Primary objective achieved: energy acquisition. Secondary harvest: recyclable biological material." Osiris registered the three relatively intact bodies on the ground. "Biological integrity remains within parameters. Nervous systems show basic response potential. Transport to workshop authorized; optimal conversion into basic Servitor units for repetitive labor and defensive purposes."
The mechadendrites flexibly coiled around the three bodies, securing them to his back in a dense load. The heavy battery pack was secured by a fourth limb.
Before departing, he quickly searched the fallen vagrants' belongings, finding a crudely drawn map of the surrounding area, on which several camps and "danger zones" were marked.
Osiris, laden with the heavy battery and the biological cargo, exited the mine shaft. At the entrance, he performed a comprehensive environmental sweep, confirming the surviving scavvers had fled the perimeter and no ambushes were being prepared. He then set off on the calculated path back to the town.
His first resource hunt yielded more than predicted. The high-energy battery, though degraded, would provide a substantial energy injection after processing. The cables and regulators would serve as essential spare parts. And the three bodies would become a source of valuable labor and a unique opportunity to study the neurological architecture of this anomalous reality.