Denver

[Turkish]

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator began to descend; there were fourteen levels before they would reach their destination. They stood there for hours, passing with each level farther below the surface of the planet.

It was dark, the sky looked like it was being beaten into submission, with every foot they lost more light. They were eventually left with nothing but the dull glow of the lift controls. They were old, the controls. Everything in this place was old. The lift, the corridors, the blast doors sealing every level, everything in the facility was easily a century in age, but still operating perfectly.

They reached the fourteenth level, the platform made a loud thud as it anchored itself. He couldnt help but stare at the size of it. Before the party stood an immense, and old containment seal. They followed their guide; he took them ever deeper, until they finally arrived.

L14 Sub-section: D, Containment Vault: 3

Their guide finally spoke.

<Here.>

In the far corner of the containment module sat an archaic stasis chamber, clearly of early Libertonian design. As they approached the constant click of their footsteps seemed to grow more apparent with ever moment, until finally every step was a pain.

The unit was labelled:

<HNS-314>

His breathing hastened.

He touched it. It was cold.

---

I have a fetish for all things Norse.