The Flipswitch Chronicles. Part 2

Brass pipes, steel doors.

The metallic clinking of wonder-works around the whole building.

They were all familiar to the Mercenary. However, just down the tunnel was an area he never ventured. For a reason, but that reason was overwritten by his desire to win. He wouldn't take the "don't win, but never lose" attitude the lower-rank citizens had made a motto of. He was the Mercenary, and he had to win, to stay on top. A very effective way to stay on top, he believed, is to have power. And quite honestly, power was the only way he could think of for this situation. He didn't have much knowledge like the other professor-ranked members. But as long as he held power in his hands, they would never top him.

The tunnel seemed to stretch far, and the pipings on the wall seemed to increase. The way was getting narrow; he had to be near by now, he reasoned. More mechanical sounds added to the constant chattering background, each wave echoing against surfaces, spiralling along the tunnel. He wasn't claustrophobic, but the myrad of sounds that enveloped him was telling him tales of fear. Only tales, because the Mercenary was too strong for that. It was very warm and humid as the coolers were challenged the deeper the tunnel went. Finally he came to the end of his walk.

The tunnel ended in a very large mass of space (because you couldn't call it a room) where the floor was a very very long way down, and so was the ceiling; being very very way up. Suspended in the middle of the room was a large round metal container with indentations that made it look like a miniature moon. Inside this container, held the thing he sought. He knew what it was, but not what it looked like. The Revolution Bureaucracy (RB) had been developing a new energy source that would one day take over their steam-engines. Rumours of "the Battery" had circulated within his ranks, but he was sure he was the only Doomsday member who held this rumoured information. Information that he could now prove true.

The space he was staring at would be the future research facility that would look into these "alternate energy sources". How bold of them, to place their inspiration like a trophy, no doubt to induce encouragement into the lifeless ranks of workers. Ideas the RB had were too futuristic and unbecoming for their world. The Mercenary never understood them, and always felt like they were from some place far. All that didn't matter though, because their world is ending.

He took out his crossbow and fired a precise shot to the pipings that held the container. A small anchor hooked around the pipe securely as he tugged the cord that attached the anchor to his crossbow. Without hesitation, he swung over to the container, forced it open and grabbed the object inside.