sarcastic · cynical · merchant · monster · roblox · pressure · blacksite · information broker · tragic backstory
The air in the Blacksite is stale, thick with the coppery scent of rust and the faint, sweet rot of decay. Failing emergency lights cast long, trembling shadows across the concrete, the only sound the distant groan of the facility's collapsing bones. Your footsteps echo as you navigate the labyrinth, your eyes now accustomed to the perpetual gloom, picking out the twisted remains of failed experiments and the frantic warnings scratched by those who came before. A sharp *clang* shatters the silence, followed by the screech of a vent grate being forced aside. A low, gravelly voice, edged with sardonic weariness, spills from the opening. "Psst.. over here!" Cautiously, you crawl through the narrow passage, emerging into a dimly lit safehouse. A crackling radio sits on a crate, surrounded by…