Arthro
Arthropod Enthusiast
Miles of silent wind and dust surround us.
Piercing the silence is a lonely armored car, whose wheels are kicking up a storm of brown dust behind itself.
The sun is setting, filling the Western skies with brilliant shades of pink and orange, fading into a solid red directly above, and ending in a foreboding blackness due East. As far as the eye can see, the landscape is barren and flat. There are no landmarks, only the dying sun.
A Russian man in a very clearly aging suit fiddles with an array of bulky, jury-rigged technology on the console of his speeding vehicle. It shows multiple seven-segment display numbers changing with each second (appearing to be orientation information). Wires are spewing out out of it, connecting to where the passenger seat should be, but is instead an old computer unlike anything you have seen before in the city, and is ultimately connected to several antennas on the roof of the car.
"About five more kilometers South." Pyotr glances left and right, then looks back to the others for a moment, both hands firmly planted on the steering wheel. "We will get there just before nightfall. Check your suits, arms, and ammo." Pyotr puts his attention back to the horizon in front of him. "The outpost's last known message was something about giant rats. Nothing we can't handle, right?" The scientist glances back to his crew for a moment, saying in a more stern voice, "If there is anything wrong, you tell me. Are we all clear?"
Piercing the silence is a lonely armored car, whose wheels are kicking up a storm of brown dust behind itself.
The sun is setting, filling the Western skies with brilliant shades of pink and orange, fading into a solid red directly above, and ending in a foreboding blackness due East. As far as the eye can see, the landscape is barren and flat. There are no landmarks, only the dying sun.
A Russian man in a very clearly aging suit fiddles with an array of bulky, jury-rigged technology on the console of his speeding vehicle. It shows multiple seven-segment display numbers changing with each second (appearing to be orientation information). Wires are spewing out out of it, connecting to where the passenger seat should be, but is instead an old computer unlike anything you have seen before in the city, and is ultimately connected to several antennas on the roof of the car.
"About five more kilometers South." Pyotr glances left and right, then looks back to the others for a moment, both hands firmly planted on the steering wheel. "We will get there just before nightfall. Check your suits, arms, and ammo." Pyotr puts his attention back to the horizon in front of him. "The outpost's last known message was something about giant rats. Nothing we can't handle, right?" The scientist glances back to his crew for a moment, saying in a more stern voice, "If there is anything wrong, you tell me. Are we all clear?"
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