April 22nd at 10:17am
Fine mechadendrites unfold from beneath Adept LIV`s cloak, sneaking past Commissar Bryce and crawling along the walls toward the exposed control cluster in the duct above the room. Her probes slip into the housing. Runes flicker faintly across her lenses. One by one, the panel lights switch off.

The workers pause. One tilts their helmeted head, checking a gauge. Another adjusts a valve. The fans lurch, then grind to a halt. Steam hisses and fills the room, no longer being sucked out. Visibility drops. A warning chime sounds below, muted but unmistakable.
The workers stiffen. One steps back from the vats. Another reaches for a wall console.
-Boss! The suckers `re furthed again!-

In response, the conveyor belts slow, then stop entirely. A low beeping begins to pulse, the flickering lumens flashing through the haze.
-Ok, lads! Emergency protocol and shit! Get out until Fixer patches the shit again!-

Below, the technicians scatter, coughing, some clutching their masks as visibility collapses. The room empties quickly.
Bryce makes a quick assessment. The workers were unsettled but not alarmed. Whatever has gone wrong, it is routine enough that no sirens have sounded. No lockdowns. No armed response. She grips the edge of the grate, eyes scanning fast.
-This is our call- she whispers.

Bryce signals. The grate is forced open with a muted screech of stressed metal, carefully controlled. One by one, the team drops down.

The processing room is larger up close, industrial and impersonal. The floor is sticky with residue. Layers of dried paste and fresh runoff create a treacherous skin over the metal plating. The boiling pots, now turned off, reek of cooked organs and chemicals. Working tables line the room, fitted with cutting tools and drainage channels leading into floor grates.
Behind them, a reinforced bulkhead marked with faded hazard sigils blocks access to the previous chamber. From beyond it, cattle-like sounds echo faintly through the now-stilled conveyor opening that connects both rooms. Whatever the primary source of the compound is, it lies behind that door.

Ahead, the second conveyor line carrying boxed material disappears through an open archway into the deeper facility, its lights flickering in sequence as it moves.

Perhaps it is worth taking time to disable the vats, jam the conveyor, and rig the room to collapse production permanently before moving on?

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Option 1. Breach the reinforced bulkhead into the primary production room.
Option 2. Advance along the conveyor into the facility.
Option 3. Secure and sabotage the production.