The only elevator I could find was broken. Because of course it was.

I trudged up one of the concrete staircases. Desperately trying and failing to ignore the trash and debris. How could you not at least remove the filth? Were the people that lived so lost to anguish that they truly didn't care? How could you help people like that find hope again? How do you instill them with a sense of purpose and personal pride again? I didn't know, but I had a feeling that one day it would be of vital importance.

Fix met me at the 12th floor's entryway. Two still smoking corpses filled the doorway. I chucked their corpses to the side after stripping them of anything unburnt. I had to vomit, thanks to the the smell, and as realization of what we were doing hit me, my gorge rose again. While they were, according to my information, just as despicable as the 'Strom, the Scavs didn't look as inhuman. Hell, most of them I had looted so far barely had any cyberware. I guess it was easier to sympathize with folks that still looked human.

The Scavs had taken over the entire floor. On this side of the building by the stairs, the majority of the rooms were more or less intact. The Scavs had been sleeping in these rooms, and doing less pleasant things. The smell of human excrement always hits me hard. That was why despite finishing the plumbing course in trade school, I didn't even try to become a plumber. I simply saw it as a skill worth knowing, and hoped I'd never have to use it. It seemed that I wouldn't get to keep anything in my stomach today. Oh well, that XXL burrito wasn't worth trying to keep down.

I found no less than three makeshift "operating" rooms, deeper into the core of this floor. The amount of blood and viscera resembled an abattoir. Fresh blood and gore had been added from where the Scavs had joined their victims. Good job guys, I mentally cheered Fix and Scuff. I gave them both a thumbs up.

Correction, there were four rooms where the Scavs had been entertaining "guests". In the fourth room, I found the remains of a young woman still laid out on the surgeon's table. Her chest cavity had been opened up, in a gruesome display. I was no doctor, but even I could tell that several of the organs necessary to maintain life were missing. I examined the room, I couldn't really internalize everything I was witnessing, so I kept the details to simple facts. The instruments spread around the table, were all crude. They also looked like like they had never once been cleaned.

As I was about to continue cataloging the horrors of this macabre theatre, the woman's corpse made a noise. I didn't even pause at the awful sound, I leapt to her side and began trying to pour mana into her. Regrowth spread throughout her flesh and for one tiny moment I was connected with her. I felt that last gasp of life flee her broke form, the moment when death claimed her. For several minutes, I kept trying to save someone that was already gone. When the reality of the situation set in, my mind went blank.

Scuff and Fix hovered nearby. It was an odd moment where Robots were trying to offer me emotional support. That more than anything, let me return from that terrible cold place, my thoughts were trapped in.

Of course, then began the cycle of self-recriminations. If only, I had noticed she that still had some life left in her sooner, maybe I could have saved her. If only, my mana shaping had been better. If only, I knew more spells. If only, if only. Then the painful questions began. Had she been in love? Did she have a family? Would her friends miss her? What projects had she started that she would never be able to finished? I knew it was likely impossible to answer those questions, but they rolled around in my head anyway.

While I wasn't crying, something inside me was breaking down. I honestly wished I were bawling my head off. It would have been a healthier way to deal with the pressure, to deal with feeling all of this anguish.

None of this made any sense to me, my impression from Sinnamin had been that they cut people apart for their organs. To sell on the black market. A terrible act, as I could see in front of me. Definitely worthy of a bullet or three to the brainpan. If the young lady, whose name I make never know, could only speak, she might have told me that the situation was much more traumatizing than that.

I finally managed to gather myself and began to once again search the floor. I certainly found many organs in refrigeration units haphazardly place around the walls. My throat burned from upwelling acid as the sight of bodies discarded in haphazard heaps, imprinted itself deep in my psyche. Throw in side rooms, that were so dark I couldn't make out too many details. That's for the best I'm sure.

I choked back another round of vomit, and tried to figured out what the Scavs were after. All of this slaughter, just for money? I couldn't accept that. I've never been great at judging the motivations of others, but all of this seemed to be needless. There had to be be better ways to make money available.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

I had to clean the results of the Probes' assault off the refrigeration unit's glass doors in quite a few places. My now empty eyes peered into cases trying to comprehend. Mostly the stolen organs were kidneys, hearts, eyes and lungs. They had been preserved in jars, submerged in unknown fluids, and kept at temperatures just shy of freezing. I could feel a rage brewing, drowning out the hollowed out places inside me. The anger burned bright and hot, knowing that normal everyday folks had been reduced to this. The ones that were obviously from children, stoked the inner blaze the most, messing with children was always the most heinous of crimes.

Yet the organs were an afterthought. That was the only conclusion I could draw from the sloppy extraction methods and poor packing techniques. Most of these organs probably wouldn't be worth a damn. They certainly wouldn't survive transport. This tragedy was all wasted effort and a severe waste of life. What was the point?

Then I discovered reality of what they were after. The offending materials were stacked neatly in crates filled with thick foam and advanced shipping materials. The precision of storage and the care taken to clean and maintain the integrity of the goods painted a stark contrast to the treatment of the organs. The only filth present, being the remains of the Scavs splattered everywhere in their last ditch effort to defend their cache to the bitter end.

Cyberware. It was all cyberware. "Chrome."

People slaughtered like livestock for bits of chrome. Metal valued over flesh. This was an abomination. That was the only word I could think of, to describe what this act felt like to me. The spark of life snuffed out just to steal the false animation of metal. I could sense that my world view had begun to shift. My rage crashed into me. All of my earlier sympathy for the Scavs, that Scuff and Fix flatlined felt wasted. Anyone who could do this didn't deserve to suck the same air as me. They didn't deserve to be counted as human at all.

I was shocked by both the amount and the shear variety of parts. This group of Scavs must have been operating in this area for a long time. Giving the crate a cursory once over, showed me thousands of units of cyberware. I had little clue what any of them were for, other than the limb replacements. I growled at the thoughts of how each part must have been extracted. How much pain was inflicted in the gathering of these materials.

How was I better? A stray thought whispered. It was that bitter part of me still upset that I couldn't save the young lady. My answer began in halting bursts, Target selection? Intent? Purpose? Morals? This kind of self-recrimination was nothing new to me. All the time I questioned whether I made the right call not going to college. Every time I wondered what I had done wrong in trying to get a date. Yet never had I faced anything with this level of grim weight. Parts of me, hollowed out earlier, crumbled away. This left only the strongest parts of my myself to rebuild with.

I knew I could have fallen into the trap of endlessly questioning myself, but that's what it really was, a trap. Think too much and fail to act. Act without thought and commit atrocities. It was an endless circle.

That bitter part of my old self threw out a final thought, that I was just as bad because I did all of this, and that's the sort of thing the objectively bad people do. I growled, "Bullshit." Fuck that. I'm not going to waste the time constantly justifying my actions here and now. I'd never get anything done. Then I sneered at that part of myself. "Some people need killing. Some people need saving. In the end it's all just people needing." If anyone had a problem with that, even my own subconscious, they could suck it.

Chuckling at the ridiculousness of my own two-bit philosophy. My resolve settled, and I started looting once more. 15 dead Scavs, not counting the two by the door. So twenty Scavs had been here? Unless someone had gotten away. They had possess almost $12,000 in script, dozens of crappy weapons, and other small things to sell. My assumption was most of it was from the victims, especially anything that was actually valuable. That soured my thoughts, but they couldn't use it anymore. I'd have to attempt to be worthy.

I couldn't do anything with the organs and I simply didn't have room in the Galena for all of the cyberware. Luckily, one of the Scavs had a fob for a car. Maybe it would be big enough. I checked it out. It was indeed.

[ Mahir Supron FS3

Model: Basic

Fuel Type: CHOOH2 formula Delta

Top speed: 135

Weight: 2,690

Horsepower: 108 ]

It was a boxy piece of junk. It was poorly made, and had been poorly maintained. However with the back seats down, I could fit maybe four crates of cyberware in there. That made it the vehicle I needed right now. when Scuff and Fix scanned it, I could feel their contempt. My little Robo-Buddies were getting cocky, but they deserved it. They had performed, above and beyond expectations.

In a way, I was happy they were acting up. They had been subdued. I guess they didn't like what they scanned in there, or maybe they didn't like how those events had affected me. "It's okay guys, I'll be fine. We'll be okay. You were awesome and I'm glad you were here. I couldn't have done this without you." They gave me doubtful, half-hearted beeps. Those beeps mirrored my thoughts as I tried to convince myself it was true.

I didn't want to leave the Galena behind. Though as I understood it, once I was chipped I could call my baby to me with the fob. I nodded, my plan had been formed.

I loaded everything I could pack into the minivan. I was officially and thoroughly over going up and down stairs, while carrying heavy things. Oddly enough, the manual labor helped to clear my head. The soreness burning in my muscle banished my doubts, at least for the moment.

Scuff and Fix found adequate attachment points on the roof of the van.

I tried to calm myself as I headed towards Misty's.