Vortex Origins
Chapter 52: The storage room

Chapter 52: The storage room

A faint crackle buzzed through the communicator. Static hummed for a breath too long before a voice broke through, rough and low.

"Ash, are you there?"

Fingers tightened around the edge of the console. Ash leaned in, his pulse steady, controlled.

"Yeah. I’m here."

A slow exhale on the other end.

"Good... You made it out."

Ash’s grip didn’t loosen.

"I did. The others didn’t they are still on there way out."

"I know."

Ash straightened.

"Wait, how do you know that?"

"Max reached out. Told me what happened. Their condition. Why you left."

A beat of hesitation.

"And about your ability."

Ash’s jaw set. He hadn’t planned on that detail getting out so soon.

"So he told you."

"He had no choice."

Ash let out a slow breath but he didn’t push the topic.

"Anyways since you already have a way to reach him, can you get a message to him?"

Rowan clicked his tongue.

"Doubt it. Their communicator barely holds a signal."

Ash muttered a curse under his breath.

"Power’s low... He’s rationing it, waiting until he knows how much farther we have to go."

"And? How much farther?"

Ash hesitated, gaze flicking to the navigation screen.

"I don’t know exactly. But whatever time we have left—it’s under two days."

Silence stretched across the channel. Then, Rowan muttered.

"Two days... That’s something, at least."

’wait... why is he calm about this.’

A nagging thought crept into Ash’s mind.His expression darkened.

"Wait. Did Max say how they’re making it through Sandworm Valley?"

Rowan hesitated.

"Yeah... He said they’re traveling with a sleeping-tier six Creature."

The chair scraped against the floor as Eir shot up from his corner.

"Tier six?!"

His voice lashed through the room like a whip.

Operators around them stiffened, heads snapping toward the console. Murmurs rippled through the air.

Ash’s fingers curled into a fist.

"Did he say how they’re keeping it asleep?"

Rowan took too long to answer.

"No... I figured Kael knocked it out."

A slow exhale, sharp as steel.

"No. Do you actually think thats possible. We used Nightveil Drought."

The room shifted, tension thickening.

Rowan’s voice dropped lower.

"That plant’s extinct."

"It’s not. The settlement figured out how to grow this stuff and use it on the sandworm. At first, it put the worm to sleep, but after years of using it and the worm regrowing its lost limb, it finally gained resistance. Max came up with a new toxin that’ll put it back to sleep and weaken it. The problem is, we’ve only got two vials left, and I don’t think it’s gonna be enough."

A harsh curse spilled through the communicator.

"Damn it... You’re going back, aren’t you?"

"I don’t have a choice. If we push through the night, we might make it."

Rowan exhaled, a reluctant acceptance in his tone.

"Fine. Get back there. I’ll send ships to Ironhold for backup."

"Appreciate it."

The transmission cut.

A thick silence settled over the room, the kind that weighed heavy on the chest.

Eir dragged a hand through his hair, voice low and grim.

"You know what this means."

Ash nodded once, eyes cold and focused.

"Yeah. If that thing wakes up... They won’t make it."

————

The moment the heavy metal doors of the communication center hissed shut, the silence settled like a weight. The air felt colder, thicker, as if the world outside had swallowed them whole.

Ash’s boots struck the cracked stone with a dull thud, each step a reminder of the road ahead. Eir led the way, flanked by the guard who stood rigid at the entrance, his eyes scanning the empty corridor.

The narrow hallways twisted ahead of them, the dim lights overhead flickering like dying embers. A low hum reverberated through the walls, the engines of the settlement buzzing beneath the ground, but the sound felt far away, disconnected from the urgency that gripped Ash. He kept his pace steady, eyes forward, following the unwavering guard.

The storage room’s door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the dark, cavernous space within. The scent of preserved food mixed with the sharp tang of metal, the cold air settling around them like a heavy cloak.

Shelves lined the walls, stacked with every conceivable ration—canned food, dried meats, salted vegetables, bags of rice—all packed tightly, a mountain of supplies for a journey none of them truly wanted to face.

At the far end of the room, a low hum pulsed through the air. A metal contraption that almost look like a cart stood under a flickering light, its intricate design strange and purposeful. The weight-reducing machine.

Its pipes twisted like veins, snaking across its surface, and the machinery inside thrummed in quiet anticipation. It stood still, its containers already loaded with provisions

Near the machine, two figures stood. One was a man, rough-looking with a scar running down his cheek, his fingers moving swiftly across the controls. The machine’s hum deepened as he worked, his hands sure, moving with the confidence of someone who knew this equipment inside out. His eyes never left the machine’s display, his focus absolute.

"The food it carried would sustain them, keep them alive for days, but that didn’t matter if he doesn’t make it back there."

He was talking to the woman next to him.

She didn’t reply or look up as ash and eir entered, her focus buried in a worn leather-bound book. The pages turned with the same precision as her fingers, but there was a tension in the way she held the book, as if it offered some kind of solace. Something about her felt out of place here, as if her quiet concentration contrasted with the harsh, utilitarian space around them.

Eir gave a short nod to both figures, his expression unreadable as he stepped forward with Ash.

"This is it. The weight reducing machine or what they now call it—mass handler."

Eir gesturing to the machine, his voice steady despite the tension crawling beneath it.

"Everything’s ready. This would help you travel safely to them. You can help yourself to anything on the shelves."

Ash didn’t answer, his gaze flicking from the machine to the stacked food. The weight of the task ahead tightened in his chest, the burden heavier now, but it was a weight he couldn’t escape. He moved to the side, his hands already finding the work, shifting some need supplies into the machine with practiced efficiency.

The man grunted as he adjusted a valve on the machine. His rough hands were worn, scarred from years of working with heavy machinery.

"Got everything prepped. Let me help you pack them in."

The man hands move to the stuff Ash gathered

"Don’t know how a lot of people got trapped inside sandworms valley but it’s a miracle that they are still alive. Sandworms valley is a really dangerous place, i have heard stories from people how even ships got dragged into sand before they knew what happened."

Eir nodded

"yes. Its an S class danger zone for a reason. No one is supposed to go near there."

He glanced at Ash.

Ash ignored them, his hands moving mechanically as he loaded the last of the rations. The machine’s hum vibrated under his palms—steady, for now. But out there, in the dark of Sandworm Valley, time was running out. And if that Tier 6 woke before he got back...

He slammed the container shut. No time to waste.