Chapter Content
The Tox-Mother stood atop a rusted shipping container, her pale skin illuminated by the sickly green glow of her chemical vats. She looked across the vault floor, her eyes narrowing as she performed a mental tally.
Kian Voss had barely a hundred and fifty men. She had over three thousand.
Even with their superior Grade-4 armor, the ratio was twenty-to-one. In the claustrophobic corridors of the Sump, sheer mass was a tactical absolute. The Mother was confident. She had the numbers to soak up every bullet the Voss Syndicate possessed and still have enough "meat" left to drown them in a tide of jagged blades.
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