Chapter Fifty One: Don't Breathe
Astral’s mouth turned into a frown as they walked back to the elevator. The floor beneath Joro had been uneventful, the pair resetting the switches with ease. Sassi had gotten more agitated as they walked, the mare not saying much as her demeanor stiffened. It wasn’t about Joro, at least that’s what Astral assumed. After going through the room where Sassi had been burned, he had a pretty good idea of what the issue was though. A bunch of puzzle pieces had abruptly fallen into place, and yet it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
His thoughts were derailed as the doors opened, a dimly lit and dark floor spreading out in front of them. The cubicles were wrecked, and what looked like explosives had charred the floor and ceiling.
“Well, this looks promising,” he muttered, noticing how tense Sassi seemed. A pang of sympathy spiked into his heart, but the Thestral couldn’t dwell on it. First things first.
“There should be Guards here. Stay alert.”
Sassi’s clipped tone matched her movements as they carefully proceeded, scanning all angles. They paused, the dull scratching reminding them that a certain mutual fiend was still present in the air ducts.
“Shouldn’t the vents have sealed?” Astral whispered, the two of them making their way into the portion of the floor with intact cubicles.
“Should have, yes. But the Silo has suffered a lot of damage. The seals are meant to keep out toxins, not creatures,” Sassi explained, then pausing. “Speaking of which, Astral, is there an orange, flashing light in the bottom left of your helmet? The sensors can be finicky, so I want to double-check.”
“Yeah, I have it. Icon says it’s a toxicity warning?”
She let out a soft hiss at that.
“Same here. That’s what I was worried about. It’s not just Skitters in the vents it seems. We need to hurr-” The mare paused as the nearest vent began to abruptly pour with a thick, sickly-green fog. A sigh that sounded more irritated than concerned echoed over the radio. “Of course.”
“Sassi?”
“Make sure your helmet is sealed, but then breath normally, Astral. As long as that orange light continues to glow, it means the filters are scrubbing the air,” Sassi instructed. “If you see numbers appear, that’s the system trying to calculate how long the filters have left. We should have hours at the bare minimum.”
“Right. I remember,” he muttered, the thick fog pooling up to their barrels as it continued to dump into the room.
“Let’s move and get to the room before we lose total visibility.”
Only slightly more concerned at the curt tone and demeanor Sassi now had, Astral followed her as they trotted down the semi-ruined hallways, taking a few lefts and rights. It reminded him of a prior office level that resembled a maze.
As they entered a large, half-trashed section of cubicles, the gas reached above their helmets fully. Astral could barely see his hoof in front of his face. The only indicator of distance was Sassi’s marker in his HUD. An abrupt, primal fear tickled at Astral’s senses, the Thestral shoving it down as best he could.
“These helmets have the old gear. Ugh. This gas is…weird. It’s mostly scrambling the infrared,” the mare muttered.
“So, how do we find our way through?”
“Well, I said mostly. I’m not sure if your helmet has it- but try shifting the viewing filters. Or use voice commands.”
“Filters? Oh, right.”
Carefully tapping a hoof against one of the few buttons on the high-tech helmet, Astral’s view abruptly erupted into green static.
“Urg. Nope. I can’t see a thing. Not even shapes, just static.”
“Hmm. Must be an older model, or damaged. Just follow right behind me and-”
Astral was quickly learning that when Sassi stopped talking, that wasn’t a good thing.
“Astral. Cubicle. Now.”
Ducking into one of the few office spaces without chairs, Astral looked around, watching the entrance as Sassi slowly scanned above them. Moments later, he heard a heavy something pushing through the hallway and knocking over some of the still-standing cubicle paraphernalia. It was getting closer, staggering loudly through the fog as it hacked and wheezed.
Only the rough outline was able to be seen, but Astral nearly jumped out of his armor when the body of a Skitter slammed into the floor, the head looking away from him as the two ponies huddled in the cubicle.
A final hiss, and the Skitter stopped breathing.
They didn’t say anything, Sassi waiting to hear if there were more.
“It’s dead? Astral finally asked, Sassi nodding- her head barely visible in the fog.
“Apparently. Half a mind to sample this fog and see if we can flood the lower levels with it.”
A set of ticking numbers then drew Astral’s attention.
“Uh, Sassi?”
“I see it. Is yours about ten minutes?”
“Nine.”
She let out a growl, head shaking as the mare dug into her saddlebags.
“We’ve got a single spare each. Usually, that can last half a day with the nastiest stuff we had here. Obviously, that was a gross overestimate. There’s more in the security station, assuming they weren’t taken. So, let’s go.”
The mare led him out of the cubicle, but then abruptly yanked him into the next one.
The loud crashing of something indicated why.
The fear that had been tickling at Astral’s heart now dug deep, the stallion’s heart rate spiking. This was different.
A low clicking echoed out through the mist, the newcomer causing the occasional item to slide to the floor. Other than that, there was only the soft creaking of metal as it crawled about, presumably on top of the cubicles. Another set of clicks, and Sassi ducked under the large office desk, gently tugging Astral under as well.
The clicks that erupted above their heads were deafening, and Astral felt his hooves shake. He hadn’t even known this was a fear of his. Being hunted, yes, that was a terrifying thing in and of itself. But that added to not being able to see anything in front of his hooves ignited a sensation similar to the slime. He wanted out, he needed to get out!
A box popped up in the top right of his vision, the stallion’s rocketing heartrate flashing with warning labels. The air felt thick even with the filters, the numbers ticking down at a fast and faster pace, or so it seemed.
His trembling hoof was abruptly held by Sassi’s, the mare squeezing it tightly. It was a brief thought, but the realization he could squeeze back as hard as he wanted was a nice thought indeed. The fear still crashed against his thoughts, but at least there was something else to focus on other than that.
The metal covering on the cubicle walls creaked, whatever it was making its way past them. A grotesque, wet slurping sound echoed through the office. Something was being torn and tossed, the heavy items hitting either the ceiling or walls with a *splat*.
The unmistakable sound of something ripping apart flesh now filled the air. Astral knew what it was, but he wished he was wrong. When the severed, bloodied head of the Skitter crashed down onto the floor in front of them, however, that only confirmed it.
Whatever was stalking them was eating their enemy for dinner.
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Congratulations, this may be the one good "rules" story in existence, consider me hooked.
11207545
Why thank you!
For 'rules' stories, do you mean the hook being a 'rule' that is inevitably broken?
Deadly beast,
. Poison gas, 
. A time limit, 
.
Funny how adding a time limit adds an extra layer of tension to any situation.
11207796
Especially when everything outside your mask will kill you...
This doesn’t work as a response to “Is there a …?” question. Perhaps you want “Yeah, there is”; or to change the question to “Do you have a … ?”
No other glaring issues.
Aaaaand doesn't seem to mind all that Aperture Science deadly neurotoxin.
With the thick gas, it reminds me of the game GTFO. The team of four are equipped with bare minimum and are tasked to complete objectives deep underground by a Warden. The gas reminded me of the fog where, despite all wearing gas mask, are heavily affected when the smoke are at eye level.
It won't kill you, but it greatly limits one's max health. The team would occationally find tools like a "fog repeller" that blows/sucks away the thick fog in a large area. But last for a while.
I doubt these two would find such a thing though. On a side note, GTFO has a creature, a Scout, that spews tentacles very slowly over a large area. It would trigger it to scream and draw every monster to that area whenever something moves the tentacle.
11208104
I'm getting better!
11208193
"When I said "deadly neurotoxin," the "deadly" was in massive sarcasm quotes. I could take a bath in this stuff. Put it on cereal, rub it right into my eyes. Honestly, it's not deadly at all... to *me*."
11208344
Ohhh I've seen plenty of playthroughs like that. But if you're looking for a good visual image? That gas....yep.
Oh no! No emoji from the authors note, must be a grim situation indeed. Radbun, are these chapters getting smaller? Whatchu planning brother?
11209596
The chapters vary in length, around 1.2k-1.7k on average (or what I'm trying to keep as average.) Sometimes the story just hits a good breaking point for a shorter chapter. I also am putting out 2x chapters a week (usually) to make up for the shorter chapters at times.
While it probably doesn't matter, the gas here is most likely chlorine or at least chlorine based. Green color and a density greater than air are both properties of the gas.
But knowing the Stairway Company, there's probably a whole bunch of nasties mixed in there for some extra toxicity.
11209971
Or it's a bunch of nasties with a dash of chlorine for flavor.
How did I miss this update?
Poor Astral.
11211162
Well, to be fair, I've switched to 2 chapters a week (usually.)
And yeah...poor guy has his limits.