Chapter 113: Refinery Starts Falling

The subterranean foundations of the District Six processing facility groaned like a dying mechanical beast.

Thick concrete dust cascaded from the vaulted ceiling as auxiliary coolant pipes ruptured along the upper gantry.

"The structural dampeners were never calibrated to withstand a full conduit breach!" Sierra shouted over the deafening blare of emergency sirens.

"The automated scuttle charges in the lower substations are already counting down," Bekka reported, checking the tactical schematic on her wrist console.

"How much time do we have before the support pillars shear completely?" Leo asked, wiping fine masonry grit from his brow.

"Seven minutes at the absolute most before the entire ceiling collapses into the drainage canal," Sierra answered grimly.

"Then we sprint straight for the primary research vault and secure the manufacturing schematics," Kage urged, gesturing toward the eastern corridor.

"Wait," Leo commanded, raising his right hand as his acute perception caught muffled screams through the ventilation grilles.

"Those screams are coming from the chemical processing floor two levels beneath our boots," Bekka noted, her green eyes sharpening with concern.

"That floor is where the contracted technicians supervise the cellular distillation tanks," Sierra pointed out, her tone tight with bitter skepticism.

"Those technicians signed corporate non-disclosure agreements and knowingly boiled down human marrow for their paychecks," Kage argued, shaking his head.

"They are corporate hirelings who chose profit over conscience," Sierra agreed, stepping toward the vault corridor.

"A moral failure does not warrant being crushed beneath ten thousand tons of reinforced concrete," Leo stated with quiet, immovable authority.

"If we divert to the lower bays, the access window to the central vault will close permanently," Sierra warned, meeting his golden gaze.

"Then it closes," Leo replied without a second of hesitation.

"We do not build a free district by adopting the casual cruelty of our oppressors," Leo declared, turning his boots toward the crumbling stairwell.

Bekka looked at Leo, a surge of profound respect washing across her tense features.

"I will take point on the lower stairwell to deflect falling debris with my wind-saber," Bekka volunteered, stepping immediately beside him.

"Kage, hold the upper landing and keep our extraction route open to the drainage tunnel," Leo directed.

"Understood, Commander, but you have less than five minutes before the stairwell snaps," Kage acknowledged, drawing his twin blades to guard the threshold.

Leo and Bekka descended the shuddering spiral staircase as structural steel beams buckled with deafening metallic groans.

The air on the chemical processing floor was thick with choking yellow vapor and the sharp stench of boiling reagents.

A massive support girder had collapsed across the main exit, trapping fourteen white-coated technicians and four junior assistants inside the distillation bay.

"Help us! The emergency blast shutters are welded shut by the fire protocols!" an elderly chemist screamed, pounding bloody palms against the reinforced glass.

"Stand back from the frame if you wish to see tomorrow morning!" Leo bellowed, his voice cutting through the hiss of escaping steam.

Leo stepped up to the twisted iron girder, sinking his bare fingers beneath the molten-hot flange.

Channeling the dense reservoir of his Level 43 strength, Leo braced his boots against the buckling floor tiles.

The golden light of his desire core flared outward in a radiant shockwave, illuminating the smog-choked chamber.

With a thunderous roar that rivaled the collapsing facility, Leo heaved the three-ton steel girder upward and hurled it across the room.

The heavy beam crashed into an empty storage vat, clearing an unobstructed path through the shattered doorway.

"Everyone out through the northern stairwell now!" Bekka commanded, creating a swirling tunnel of pressurized wind to disperse the toxic yellow gas.

The terrified technicians scrambled through the breach, coughing violently as they stumbled toward the stairwell.

"Why are you saving us?" a young female lab assistant gasped, clutching her burned arm as she passed Leo.

"You are the ones who attacked our facility, yet our own supervisors locked the fire doors behind them!" she sobbed in bewilderment.

"Your supervisors view your lives as expendable liabilities on a corporate balance sheet," Leo answered, steadying her trembling shoulder.

"Because District Seven does not murder workers to settle scores with their masters," Leo added, his voice ringing through the haze.

"The central elevator is already dead, you must take the maintenance ladder to reach the surface!" the elderly chemist yelled back in gratitude.

"Where does the maintenance ladder emerge aboveground?" Bekka asked, deflecting a falling concrete block with a clean slash of wind.

"It leads directly into the abandoned rail yard behind the freight station," the chemist explained, coughing into his singed lab coat.

"Toby’s scouts have secured that rail yard, so run straight for the lantern light," Leo instructed them.

"We will testify before the city magistrates about what the corporation forced us to synthesize in these vats," the old chemist promised solemnly.

"Save your breath for climbing the ladder, old man, and stay alive," Leo urged, pushing him toward the ascent.

"Move quickly and do not stop until you reach the southern drainage canal," Bekka ordered, herding the last assistant onto the metal steps.

As the final technician cleared the doorway, a tremendous shudder ripped through the ceiling of the processing bay.

A section of the upper concrete floor gave way, dropping twenty tons of rubble directly into the chamber they had just evacuated.

"The structural integrity has dropped below twenty percent!" Sierra shouted down the stairwell pipe through the comm link.

"The lower bay is fully cleared," Leo reported, leaping up the steps three at a time with Bekka close at his heels.

"Did you secure the technicians?" Kage called out as Leo and Bekka burst back onto the upper gantry platform.

"All eighteen workers are moving into the drainage canal toward Toby’s receiving team," Bekka confirmed, catching her breath.

"You cost us four precious minutes for people who were refining poison an hour ago," Sierra said, though her dark eyes were softened by reluctant awe.

"Those four minutes proved that our revolution has a soul, Sierra," Bekka told her, resting a hand on the specialist’s shoulder.

"The main vault door is already buckling under the weight of the collapsed upper offices," Sierra conceded, pointing down the smoke-filled eastern hallway.

"Is the path still passable?" Leo asked, his golden eyes scanning the distorted metal corridor.

"Barely, but we have less than three minutes before the entire sector pancakes into the aquifer," Sierra answered, checking her timer.

"What is the status of the vault’s primary power feeds?" Leo asked, adjusting his grip on his weapon.

"The primary line is severed, but the internal capacitor is keeping the magnetic clamps energized," Sierra replied.

"Then we make every single second count," Leo said, drawing the Null Razor as emergency sirens howled their final warning.

"Lead the way, Leo, we are right behind you," Bekka said, her blade humming with fierce wind pressure.

"Will the scuttle charges trigger secondary tremors in District Seven?" Bekka asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling fissures.

"Tessa and Sunlark already reinforced the boundary retaining walls with heavy iron scaffolding," Leo answered as they ran.

"Then our home will hold against the shockwave," Bekka said, confidence returning to her stride.

"District Seven was built on solid bedrock, not corporate debt," Leo remarked with grim determination.

They sprinted down the trembling hallway as concrete fractures raced along the floor like jagged black lightning.