Chapter Content
After settling matters with Rudolphson, Kian Voss moved deeper into the Mid-Hive. He navigated through a series of transit-shuttles and reinforced gene-gates, heading back toward the district held by the Order of the Twin Serpents.
As he walked, Kian witnessed the "Mid-Hive Malaise." It was like a gothic version of the Great Depression. Pedestrians shuffled along with bowed heads and grey, hollow faces, their spirits crushed by the industrial grind. Fragments of their desperate conversations drifted through the stagnant air.
"A week since the synthetic starch factorum opened, and I haven't seen a real vegetable since," one laborer groaned. "Everything tastes like sawdust and wet cardboard. What's the point of breathing?"
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