Democracy comes to Copper 9. (Helldivers 2 X Murder Drones.)

September 2184. Facility 7. Entrance.

Jason stepped through the door, eyes scanning the control panel opposite him. It was just like the one outside—showing signs of age but remarkably intact and fully functional. The door itself appeared freshly manufactured, without the slightest hint of corrosion or wear.

"This doesn't add up. No one's been here for at least a century. By all rights, there shouldn't be any power, and this door should look as decrepit as the rest of the place." Jason's voice held an edge of suspicion as he looked between his teammates, V, N, and J. They, too, shared his puzzlement, gazing at their surroundings with muted awe.

"I noticed something else," J chimed in, her voice low and pensive. "This room is untouched—no damage, no signs of aging, not even a dusting of snow from outside. Outside, whole sections of the building are in ruins, but here? It's like time forgot this place. I've only seen a handful of buildings this preserved."

Around them, the room was eerily pristine: a chair, a desk with a holographic system, and a few other objects lay untouched, as if waiting for occupants who'd never arrived. Meanwhile, V and N's eyes were fixed on a dim hallway stretching deeper into the facility, where the wind whistled, echoing through the empty passage.

"It looks clear that way. No movement, no sounds beyond the wind," V noted cautiously. "Jason, should we move forward?"

"Not yet. Let's check the front desk first. If that panel's operational, maybe we can pull a map or dig up any useful information," Jason decided, moving to the desk.

Pressing a button on the console, Jason watched as a blue holographic display flickered to life—a jarring burst of energy in the otherwise silent facility. He frowned, eyes narrowing.

"So, this place has power. But how?" N's question hung in the air, unsettling them all. "We've barely managed to keep our own lights functional with massive effort, yet here this facility's running smoothly, abandoned for who knows how long."

"Questions later. Focus on the task—find anything useful," Jason replied, typing into the console. His fingers were still moving across the keypad when the display glitched for a heartbeat, then stabilized, displaying a detailed map of the facility.

Jason's frown deepened. "Alright… this isn't just a research outpost. There's something more here."

Pulling out a cord, he linked his wrist device to the system, starting the download. But a sudden noise down the hallway made them all stiffen. A door had creaked open halfway down, and the team swung their rifles—AR-23Ps—toward it, fingers tense on the triggers.

"Got the map. Weapons ready; that wasn't the wind," Jason muttered, securing his SG-8S Slugger and taking the lead. The others followed in tense silence.

Moving forward, the hallway shifted from pristine to dilapidated in a stark contrast. Walls sagged, floor tiles cracked, and debris littered the path, except for the ominously open door ahead. The absence of noise felt unnatural—especially considering they were near a Bug nest. There were no claw marks, no Bug residue, nothing to suggest that any creature had set foot here in years. Jason's unease grew; his experiences with the Bugs' descendants, the Terminids, taught him they never left anything untouched.

"No Bug traces... This doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "Those things infest and consume every scrap of space around them, yet here it's as if they hit an invisible wall. From what I know about the Terminids—and Bugs are nearly identical—they don't fear anything. I've seen them hurl themselves into orbital bombardments, shredded to pieces, yet they kept coming. Here… nothing. What's stopping them?"

N shook his head, eyes darting nervously. "No care for self-preservation?"

"None," Jason confirmed grimly, edging closer to the open door. "They'll keep moving, bleeding, dragging themselves forward with missing limbs and shattered skulls. You've got to remember—once they lock onto you, they don't stop until you're dead. Bugs, Terminids… it's all the same breed of nightmare."

Jason activated his flashlight, casting a beam into the room beyond the door. The silence was crushing, amplifying every breath, every step. Whatever lay ahead was more than a mystery. It felt like a trap, something ancient and predatory, waiting in the shadows of Facility 7.

"It seems to be clear," Jason said, stepping through the open door and scanning the left and right sides beyond the doorway, it was a small lab. Much within was decayed and damaged through the ravages of time; a few of the windows within were broken with snow mounded around them.

Walking through the lab, the floor was a chaotic jumble of discarded items, shattered instruments, and patches of fallen ceiling debris. Snowflakes, brought in by the relentless wind, mingled with the wreckage, creating an eerie, frozen graveyard of the facility's former purpose.

"Nothing here looks worth salvaging," Jason muttered, his voice tinged with suspicion. "But if this place has been in disrepair for ages, how the hell is the front entrance still pristine?" He shook his head, the incongruity gnawing at him.

V, N, and J followed behind him, their boots crunching over debris as they scanned the area.

"You think someone's been living here? Keeping only certain areas intact?" V speculated, her tone low and wary. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Or someone—something—wants it to look that way," N added, his optics flickering uneasily as he scanned the room.

Finding nothing of immediate value, Jason turned and stepped back through the doorway, his fingers brushing over the doorframe. Gripping the door, he moved it experimentally, feeling its stubborn weight. The wind couldn't have moved this. Someone—or something—must have.

Keeping his SG-8S leveled, Jason motioned for the others to form up. V, N, and J raised their AR-23Ps in unison, their flashlights carving piercing beams into the encroaching gloom. The sound of the wind outside became a distant hum as their boots echoed through the desolate corridor.

The hallway veered abruptly to the left. Ahead, illuminated by their flashlights, a glint of metal caught their eyes. Embedded in the far wall, half-hidden in shadows, was a skeleton. Its torso was pinned to the wall by a long, gleaming blade plunged deep into its chest.

Jason froze. "What the—"

"Oh my…" J's voice broke the silence first, a mix of disbelief and dread. "Is that… a combat drone class blade?"

The grotesque tableau unfolded under the harsh light. The blade had severed the spinal cord, leaving the skeleton's lower half—a crumbled heap of pelvis and legs—on the floor. The torso slumped lifelessly over the blade, limp and grotesque.

"It looks like one," V murmured, stepping closer, her voice tinged with unease. "But why would a combat drone do this? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe it wasn't acting on its own." N's voice was solemn, his optics reflecting both pity and revulsion. "Could've been forced—controlled by someone—or something."

Jason studied the grim sight, his flashlight sweeping over the hallway beyond. No signs of a skirmish. No other bodies. Just the eerie silence pressing in around them.

The implications chilled him. The Illuminate were known to control minds, twisting people into weapons against their will. But drones? That was a darker possibility altogether, one he wasn't ready to rule out.

"This is a hell of a way to die." Jason's voice was grim. "Had an Automaton blade rammed into me once. Thought it'd split me in two. Damn thing's serrated edges… worst pain I've ever felt." He let the thought hang, glancing back at the body. "Whoever this was—they didn't die quickly. Let's move. I'll call for a recovery team later."

The group shifted uneasily, the sight of the mutilated skeleton lingering in their minds. Their steps grew quieter, tension radiating off them as they pressed deeper into the labyrinthine facility.

A sudden, sharp screech shattered the oppressive quiet, reverberating through the empty halls. Everyone froze.

"What the hell was that?" V hissed, her head snapping around, her eyes darting toward the shadowed walls.

"It's everywhere," J said, his voice tight as he checked their rear, the echo playing tricks with his ears.

Jason's jaw tightened. He'd heard that sound before. Too many times.

"Bugs," he muttered darkly. "I know that noise anywhere."

Another screech followed, louder and more piercing, accompanied by the deep groan of metal bending under immense pressure. The floor beneath them trembled, a slow, rhythmic vibration building with each passing second.

The next sound was even worse—a metallic tearing like the facility itself was being gutted. Jason motioned for the group to advance. If bugs were here, they had to find them first.

Turning the corner, their flashlights pierced through the choking darkness, revealing a long, oppressive hallway. The walls seemed to close in with every step, lined with rusted metal and old, flaking paint that hinted at a time long since forgotten. Jason's grip tightened on his SG-8S as his gaze swept the corridor, expecting the monstrous, insect-like forms that haunted their every mission.

But instead, glowing optics reflected their light, staring back from the shadows. A familiar purple pair stood out among the group, sending a wave of confusion through Jason's team.

"Uzi?" N's voice broke the uneasy silence, his tone tinged with disbelief.

"N?" The drone with the purple optics responded, stepping forward hesitantly.

"What are you doing here?" Both spoke in unison, their mutual surprise palpable.

Jason shifted his flashlight, its beam revealing three figures in full. Worker drones. His brow furrowed in disbelief. This was the last thing he expected to find in the bug-infested abyss. Slowly lowering his light, his gaze darted between the group of drones and the open door behind them.

He recognized two immediately. Uzi, the rebellious daughter of Khan, and Doll, the enigmatic drone from their earlier encounter. The third, however, was unfamiliar—her neon-pink optics casting an eerie glow as they flickered toward the door nervously.

"You must be the leader of the humans," Doll said, her tone sharp yet restrained. "Uzi mentioned you. Something about forgetting your name."

"Helldiver Jason," he replied evenly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. He gestured toward the third drone. "And who is that?"

Lizzy's voice cut in before Doll could respond, her tone laced with inappropriate amusement. "Damn, you look hot in that armor."

Jason ignored the comment, his focus unwavering.

"That's Lizzy," Uzi interjected, her voice tinged with exasperation. "And for the record, I didn't expect her to tag along either." She gestured toward the others.

Jason looked back at his group expecting some acknowledgment or confirmation, V was the one to respond "These two? Maybe. But her? Definitely not." V folded her arms, her optics narrowing. "Alright. Spill it. What the hell are you three doing here?"

Uzi sighed heavily, glancing at the door. "It's a long story, but we were exploring the old tunnels when Lizzy decided to follow us. Things… escalated. We ran into something ugly and barely made it through the door alive."

As if to punctuate her words, a deafening clang echoed from behind the sealed door, followed by an inhuman, guttural scream. The sound sent a shiver down Jason's spine.

"Bugs…" Jason muttered under his breath. His eyes scanned the group, assessing their condition. "You're lucky to even be standing here. Without weapons or defenses, you'd be dead meat. How you escaped is a miracle."

"We manage," Uzi snapped, her pride clearly stung. "And you?" she countered, her tone accusatory. "What's your excuse for wandering around this death trap?"

Jason's expression hardened. "Fuel." He paused, letting the word sink in before continuing. "The bugs' bodies can be processed into Element-710, a substance so energy-dense it powers everything from our vehicles to FTL drives. Since we're cut off from the rest of the galaxy, this nest is our only viable source."

The worker drones exchanged uneasy glances. Even Doll seemed momentarily unsettled by the revelation.

V stepped forward, addressing Jason directly. "Sir, with all due respect, we need to get these three out of here. They're a liability."

Lizzy nodded fervently. "Seconded. I didn't sign up for this."

"I'm not useless!" Uzi snapped, stepping in front of Lizzy defensively. "I might not be combat-ready, but I can hold my own."

Doll placed a hand on Uzi's shoulder, her voice calm but firm. "We should go back. We're just in the way."

J spoke next, her tone clipped. "Sending them back means backtracking. That's time and resources we don't have."

N chimed in with an uncharacteristic cheerfulness. "We can keep them safe! Besides, Uzi's been helpful before."

Jason raised a hand, silencing the growing debate. His voice cut through the tension like a blade. "We take them with us. They stay in the middle of the formation, no exceptions."

"If you expect I accept… Wait, what?!" Uzi blinked in surprise.

Jason's expression softened slightly as he addressed her. "I've escorted civilians through worse. On Vernen Wells, I carried a pregnant woman for miles to safety before completing my mission. It's not ideal, but we adapt."

V sighed, clearly displeased. "If you say so."

J nodded reluctantly. "Let's just get this over with."

N grinned. "Adventure time!"

Lizzy looked at Jason with wide, fearful optics. "Can't you just send me home?"

Jason crouched slightly to meet her gaze. "Listen to me. Stay close, follow orders, and I promise you'll get out of this alive."

Taking position, Jason led the way with his weapon drawn, the drones clustered tightly in the center of the formation. As they advanced deeper into the facility, the air grew heavier with the stench of decay. A trail of dried, orange blood marked the floor—a grim reminder of the danger ahead.

"Bug blood," Jason muttered, crouching to examine the streak of orange ichor trailing beneath their boots. His tone was low, almost to himself. "But what hurt it?"

The uneasy silence hung over the group like a shroud until Uzi broke it. "Do they... fight each other?"

Jason shook his head, his expression hardening. "Not usually. But in an environment like this, with no food supply..." His voice trailed off, the grim implication sending a ripple of unease through the group.

The faint echoes of something alive reverberated through the steel corridors ahead, a sound too faint to place yet menacing enough to quicken their steps. The oppressive quiet only amplified the metallic groans of the ancient structure as they pressed onward, their movements cautious but deliberate.

Then, something ahead of them broke the gloom—a dim, flickering light cutting through the oppressive darkness.

"Is that a light?" V's voice carried an edge of surprise, her gaze fixed on the faint illumination spilling from a cutoff to the right.

J, walking close beside her, muttered under her breath, her unease growing. "Just like the front. Power's still running in parts of this place... and it looks intact."

Jason raised a hand, signaling them to halt as they neared the corner. Hugging the wall, he peeked around, scanning the area ahead. A single metal door came into view, eerily pristine compared to the corroded surroundings. Overhead, two functioning lights hummed softly, casting harsh shadows on the walls. The trail of blood snaked its way under the door.

Drawing his SG-8S tighter to his shoulder, Jason motioned the group forward. His boots echoed softly as he approached the door. Placing a hand on the handle, he tested it cautiously—it gave. Taking a step back, he delivered a hard kick, sending the door swinging inward with a metallic clang. He swept the room quickly, his weapon following his gaze, but no movement greeted him.

"Clear," he called out, his voice steady but laced with unease. "But someone's been here. That much is certain."

The others filed in behind him, their optics adjusting to the stark lighting within. Their gazes widened in collective shock. The room was a crude laboratory, its walls lined with makeshift tables bearing the grotesque remains of bug corpses. The bodies were eviscerated, and their exoskeletons cracked open to reveal dried, orange entrails that smeared the metal surfaces. The floor was sticky with blood, the stench overpowering.

Lizzy pulled out her cell phone, snapping a picture with trembling handstand morbid curiosity.

"Sweet Liberty... what is all this?" N murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Doll tilted her head, her usual sharpness cutting through. "Looks like someone's been having... fun."

Jason ignored the comment, his tone authoritative. "Spread out. Search for anything useful, but stay sharp. Whoever did this could still be nearby."

The group dispersed, their steps hesitant on the slick floor. Torn scraps of paper adorned the walls, the jagged and erratic scrawls revealing a deranged mind. Uzi moved toward one corner, her gaze drawn to a cluster of pinned notes. In the center of the room, Doll managed to remain calm, while Lizzy clearly seemed uncomfortable.

As Uzi neared the wall, her foot struck something with a sharp crunch. Startled, she glanced down, her optics widening as recognition struck. Her fingers trembled as she slowly crouched to pick up the object.

N, who had been keeping an eye on her, noticed the shift in her demeanor. "Uzi, what did you find?" His question cut through the room, drawing everyone's attention.

Turning slowly, Uzi held the item up for them to see—a black choker dangling from her grasp, its center adorned with the number 02. The room fell deathly silent.

Jason was the first to speak, his tone measured but curious. "What is that?"

V's optics were wide with shock as she stared at the choker. "That... that's not possible. How could she have ended up here?"

J's voice was tinged with disbelief as she recalled the past. "I remember the day she vanished. Left without taking anything—no weapons, no supplies. Just... gone. There's no way she could've made it here on her own."

"This place is miles from Bunker 00," N added, shaking his head in disbelief. "Hostile terrain, bugs, the Steel Terror... The odds of her getting here alive are..." His voice faltered.

Lizzy, still processing, looked to Doll. "That belonged to her mother, right?"

Doll's usually sharp demeanor softened, her optics betraying something raw and unreadable. She didn't respond.

Jason's gaze shifted to N. "Who did this belong to? What am I missing?"

N sighed heavily, the weight of the revelation settling over him. "That... belonged to Uzi's mother. She disappeared years ago. No one knows why she left or where she went."

The room seemed colder as the group stared at the choker, its presence raising far more questions than it answered. In the suffocating quiet, their thoughts spiraled.

What brought her here? Who—or what—was she running from? And why were there bug corpses everywhere, dissected with such brutal precision?

Jason's voice broke the silence, steady and commanding. "We take this as a sign. We're not alone down here—and whatever did this is ahead of us. Stay focused. Eyes sharp, weapons ready. Move out."

Jason tone was full of authority towards the others, for whatever had happened to Uzi mother if she was chased here, whatever it is could still be within this facility. On top of whoever was using this place as a makeshift lab.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.