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Based on the map he'd seen earlier, Roy figured the gunfire was coming from the direction of the dining hall.
The shots were rapid and intense—definitely not from just a couple of guns. It seemed like the Russian soldiers, after scattering, had regrouped.
As he got closer to the dining hall, Roy could hear Mikhailov shouting and yelling.
Anya translated, and it boiled down to Mikhailov ordering the soldiers to open fire and protect him.
Roy suspected Mikhailov had secretly signaled the others after Roy and Anya left, gathering them to pull some kind of stunt.
Maybe Roy's effortless takedown of the fungal demon earlier gave Mikhailov the wrong idea—that he could rally the soldiers and deal with the fungal demons himself.
But when real danger hit, Mikhailov was cowering behind the soldiers, begging for protection.
Inside the dining hall, Roy saw exactly what he expected: a fungal demon over two meters tall charging toward Mikhailov and the soldiers, shrugging off their gunfire.
One Russian soldier was already caught, wrapped in fungal tendrils and being swung around like a weapon.
For that soldier, death was only a matter of time—his protective suit was torn, exposing him to the fungus.
Yet the remaining soldiers didn't flee. They stood their ground, firing away.
In truth, they could've escaped. The fungal demon wasn't that fast—the captured soldier was probably just unlucky.
But Mikhailov kept barking orders to capture the creature, leaving the soldiers no choice but to stay.
Incendiary grenades weren't doing much good. Earlier, Roy had burned a fungal demon to ash, but that one was already knocked out. This one was very much alive and could easily dodge the flames.
Roy made another heroic entrance, kicking the fungal demon to the ground.
"What the hell are you all doing?" he demanded.
Under Roy's piercing glare, the Russian soldiers—even those who didn't understand him—lowered their heads in shame.
Only Mikhailov kept yammering, undeterred. Roy didn't even need Anya's translation to know it wasn't anything worth hearing.
After punching the fungal demon unconscious, Roy stormed over to Mikhailov and hoisted him up by the collar.
"What the hell are you playing at, huh?"
Mikhailov immediately folded, yelling for the soldiers to help, but they all kept their heads down, avoiding Roy's gaze.
"Still shouting?" Roy growled, landing a punch to Mikhailov's stomach.
The guy puked on the spot—right into his helmet, since he was wearing a protective suit.
Now that's the real sting!
Roy was about to keep chewing him out, but seeing Mikhailov's pathetic state, he decided it wasn't worth it. The guy wouldn't understand anyway.
"Anya, translate this: This is the last time I'm putting up with your nonsense. There won't be a next time."
Did they think Roy was their babysitter?
He was protecting Anya because she'd put in the work last night.
Mikhailov and these soldiers? They hadn't done squat. Roy had no obligation to save them.
The soldiers fell silent, and Mikhailov was too busy choking on his own vomit to respond.
Shaking his head, Roy dropped Mikhailov and turned to collect his spoils.
This time, nobody dared to yap.
Roy quickly swept through the rest of the level, taking out another fungal demon and rescuing three survivors from the observation room by finding them protective suits.
With that, the 3,000-meter level was cleared, leaving only piles of fungus-covered corpses.
"Time to head deeper," Roy said.
To reach the 6,000-meter level, they needed clearance from someone with authority—Mikhailov.
For once, Mikhailov didn't screw it up, successfully activating the elevator to head down.
The three survivors stayed behind, waiting for the elevator to return so they could head to the surface and report to Grigoryev.
The elevator ride felt like a drop on a roller coaster. Five minutes later, the nine of them reached the 6,000-meter depths.
This was a place 99% of humanity had never set foot in.
During the Cold War, the U.S. and Soviet Union had competed over who could drill deeper—one claiming a few thousand meters, the other boasting ten thousand.
In that era of peak arms races, the superpowers competed over everything.
As the elevator doors opened, Roy and the others were hit with a haze of red spores and visible waves of heat.
Anya's face paled as she realized something. "Oh no! Someone must've opened the safety door!"
Roy glanced at the elevator's control panel, which displayed environmental data. The temperature was already 50°C and climbing fast.
The 6,000-meter level was a work zone. Due to the extreme heat at this depth, insulated safety doors were used to keep temperatures manageable.
The fact that it was this hot meant the safety door was open.
"Anya, how high can the temperature get here?" Roy asked.
"According to Grigoryev's data, it can hit 200°C!"
Good lord, 100°C boils water—200°C would roast a person alive.
"Can our suits handle that?"
Not all protective suits could withstand 200°C. Even if the suits held up, the people inside might not.
Anya hesitated. She wasn't sure about the specs of these old Soviet-era suits they were wearing.
Since Anya didn't know, there was no point risking her safety.
"You all stay in the elevator. I'll check things out alone."
The elevator was the critical link for the entire mine, designed with top-notch safety. Closing the doors would shield them from the heat outside.
"Roy, be careful!" Anya said.
This time, she didn't insist on coming along. In this extreme environment, she'd only be a liability.
"I will," Roy assured her.
The elevator doors closed, and Roy ventured alone into the 6,000-meter work zone.
As expected, he felt the oppressive heat almost immediately. The old suit couldn't fully block it out.
Luckily, Roy's enhanced physique could handle it. Anya and the others would've been immobilized.
The work zone was eerily quiet compared to the 3,000-meter level—no fungal demons here.
But the fungal growth was denser, constantly spewing red spores that made the lit area hard to see through, even with lights.
The spores stuck to Roy's helmet, further obscuring his vision, forcing him to wipe it down frequently.
A map hung on the corridor wall near the elevator exit. Roy studied it, planning to close the safety door first before inspecting the rest of the work zone.
But as he approached the safety door, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
"Oh! Who do we have here? A lost lamb?"
Roy's brow furrowed. Mental communication wasn't something just anyone could do.
Had something powerful slipped through from a hell dimension?
"Who are you?" Roy asked, engaging the voice in his mental space.
"I am, of course, the Almighty Lord! Come to me, and I shall grant you great blessings!"
Roy smirked coldly. Pretending to be God, huh?
It was a decent trick, though. If a devout believer heard this voice in their head, they might actually buy it.
Roy figured this wasn't some named demon—those types wouldn't resort to cheap theatrics like this.
"Oh, Lord! Where are you now?" Roy replied, feigning devotion to trick the voice.
"Pass through that safety door into the tunnel, and you shall meet your Lord!"
Roy pulled the Leviathan Axe from his inventory and stepped through the safety door into the tunnel. The passage was only half-finished, likely halted by whatever incident occurred.
The surrounding cave was filled with red fungi resembling sea anemones, their dense, crimson mass making Roy's skin crawl.
But there was no "Lord" here. Instead, Roy spotted a unicycle covered in fungal growth.
(Arcee)
Roy: ???
A Cybertronian? Here?
It clicked—Grigoryev had mentioned the Russians built this base because a meteor landed nearby.
So, the "meteor" was this Cybertronian, now buried 6,000 meters underground.
Roy didn't quite get how that happened, but now wasn't the time to ponder. The purple unicycle was charging at him, its laser gun powering up.
"Damn it, why do I always have to fight these Cybertronians?" Roy muttered.
He dodged the unicycle's laser fire. If his suit got breached, he wasn't sure he could resist the red spores in the air. Better not take the chance.
Fortunately, Roy hadn't gone far past the safety door. He ducked back into the work zone.
The purple unicycle was fast—its fungal coating didn't slow it down. Roy heard the screech of tires behind him.
"Hey! I know your sister! We don't need to fight!" Roy shouted, switching the Leviathan Axe to its folding shield form. He turned just in time to block a laser shot.
The unicycle didn't let up, unloading a barrage of firepower.
No choice—Roy tapped into Ghost Wolf's explosive speed, appearing in front of the unicycle and smashing it to the ground with a shield bash.
Clauria had been controlled in Silent Hill because Alessa's otherworld powers corroded non-organic beings. But what was controlling this unicycle?
The red fungi?
Roy wasn't sure, so he started by scraping the fungi off the unicycle.
It resisted, so Roy snapped its weapon arm and gave it another shield bash, finally calming it down.
A few seconds later, the unicycle went still—either broken or powered down.
After a moment's thought, Roy used his brand to contact Clauria for help.
Roy: Clauria, I think I found your sister, but she's under some kind of control. No way to communicate.
Clauria: My sister? What color is she?
Roy: Purple!
Clauria: That's my sister Arcee! Roy, please don't hurt her!
Roy glanced at the broken gun barrel at his feet.
Uh, that probably doesn't count as hurting her, right?
Roy: You better tell me how to snap her out of it, or I'll have to get serious!
Clauria: Every Cybertronian has a reboot button. Press it to restart Arcee. It's at her central pivot joint!
The pivot joint was the part connecting a Cybertronian's upper and lower body, kind of like a human waist but way more durable.
Roy quickly found the spot, located the reboot button, and pressed it.
Clauria: That spot's pretty private for female Cybertronians, Roy—be careful!
Roy: …Why didn't you say that sooner?!
Talk about awkward. Arcee rebooted fast, and the first thing she saw was Roy's hand on her reboot button.
"What are you doing?!" she snapped, swinging a slap at him.
Roy reacted quickly, blocking her hand. "Arcee, hold up! I know your sister Clauria! She told me how to reboot you because you were out of control!"
He quickly explained, and Arcee held off on a second slap.
"You know my sister?"
"Yeah, I know Clauria and Bumblebee. They're my friends!"
The names Clauria and Bumblebee finally convinced Arcee of Roy's sincerity.
"Then can you take your hand off me?"
"Oh, sorry—forgot about that," Roy said, pulling back with a slightly embarrassed look.
"What happened? My logs from the past few months are a mess!" Arcee said.
"I think when you entered Earth, you crashed deep underground. There's some weird fungus here that covered you and took control."
"That makes sense. I vaguely remember hearing strange voices."
Roy's interest piqued. "What did the voice say?"
"It called itself the 'Lord,' but I don't know what that means."
Yeah, trying to explain Christianity to a Cybertronian would be pointless.
"Do you remember where the voice came from?"
"Of course I do!"