Three figures clad in specialized Carapace Armor stepped onto the land of the Upper Hive as the elevator chimed softly. Their armor was matte gray, with sleeker lines than standard-issue Carapace Armor. The servo systems at their joints were nearly silent, designed specifically for stealth and reconnaissance.
"Moth calling Slime," the leading Player, Fluttering Moth, whispered through his built-in communicator. "My unit has arrived in the Upper Hive. This place..."
Moth looked around and could not help freezing for a moment.
Real sunlight shone down from above. Though filtered through thick industrial clouds into a somewhat grayish haze, this long-missed light—born of a star rather than fluorescent tubes—still lifted the spirits of those who had spent all their time in the middle and lower hives.
The streets here were broad and spotless, paved with some kind of white synthetic stone. As far as the eye could see, there was not a scrap of garbage or stain. There were even neatly trimmed green belts lining both sides of the road. The air no longer carried that inescapable stench of machine oil and decay from below; it could even be called fresh.
Yet Moth did not relax in the slightest. His hand remained tightly wrapped around his gun. Because...
"It's very quiet," he said softly.
"Quiet enough to make you uneasy," [Name? Haven't Thought of One] immediately cut in, warily scanning the empty streets.
"Yeah," the third Player, Great Horned Beast, agreed. "There isn't a single sound. It's creepy."
"Slime received," Robert's steady voice came through the communicator. "Continue searching. Stay safe. Over."
After the transmission ended, Great Horned Beast looked around. "What do we do next? Split up to search?"
"What are you thinking? Of course we stick together." Name pointed at a spire-like building towering into the clouds in the