The Path Of Dead Spiders | Cyberpunk Darksynth Industrial Hacker Beats

Описание: DataStreamBeats - The Path Of Dead Spiders - Cyberpunk Music

Evo Corporation Research Complex “Izanami,” Sector 4. 2:14 a.m.

Without Static dragging the cameras and Brick’s barrage of fire, getting in wasn’t a run—it was sneaking through a minefield.

Rifa had summoned a city spirit, a shimmering entity of smog and exhaust fumes that enveloped her and Kuro in a gray veil. The Obfuscation spell muffled their footsteps and blurred their outlines, but it couldn’t pick the electronic locks.

Kuro knelt before the maintenance airlock. The voice in his head was no longer a whisper. It was a hum, like high-voltage power lines in the rain.

“The door,” Kuro gasped. “It won’t open. Maglocks are spinning.”

Rifa leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. The spell was taking its toll. “I can ask the spirit to overload the circuits, but that will trigger an alarm.”

Kuro cursed softly and was about to pick his lock pick when the keypad on the door beeped. A green light flashed. Click. Hiss. The heavy steel door slid open. Just like that.

Kuro froze. He aimed his preachers at the dark corridor beyond. "Did you do this?"

Rifa shook her head, her eyes wide. "No. And in the Astral Plane... Kuro, the wards are down. Someone opened the door from the inside."

"A trap," Kuro whispered.

At an intersection in Sector C, a patrol drone buzzed around the corner. But the drone didn't fire. Its scanner scanned Kuro's face. The red laser scanned his retina.

Subject identified. Access granted: Priority Alpha.

"What the hell..." Rifa stared after the drone. "Since when do you have Alpha clearance with Evo?"

“I didn’t,” Kuro growled. Cold sweat trickled down his neck. This was wrong. So incredibly wrong. “They want us there. Someone is leading us.”

“Or it’s leading us,” Rifa said, glancing nervously at the shadows.

The Steel Lynx drone that had been “escorting” them suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks. A volley of armor-piercing ammunition ripped through the floor at Kuro’s feet.

“CONTACT!” a voice roared from the loudspeakers.

Four heavily armored Evo Red Samurai guards stormed out of the side corridors. They wore full combat armor and carried assault rifles. This wasn’t your average guard. This was the elite. And unlike the facility’s systems, they apparently knew nothing about a clearance.

“Take cover!” Kuro shouted, pulling Rifa behind a reinforced concrete pillar. Bullets hammered into the concrete, showering dust and shrapnel.

"I thought they were going to let us through?!" Rifa yelled, hastily weaving a tank spell.

"Maybe the executive level!" Kuro roared back, firing two shots blindly around the corner. He heard a scream, but the fire didn't let up. "But the Grunts here didn't get the memo! We're trapped!"

A ricochet struck Kuro in the left shoulder, where the armor was weakest. He grunted as the projectile bit through the Kevlar, tearing open flesh. Blood spurted onto the sterile floor.

"Kuro!"

"I'm fine!" he lied. The pain was there, sharp and hot, but it was immediately overshadowed by something else. The throbbing. It was now as loud as a jackhammer. The weapon was close. Just through the large airlock.
... “We have to get in there!” Kuro shouted over the din of battle. “Rifa, can you blow the door open?”

“I’m a shaman, not a demolition expert!” she yelled back. Another volley from the Red Samurai pinned her down. Rifa whimpered as a piece of shrapnel struck her calf. She was bleeding heavily. “But I can try to melt the lock! Give me ten seconds!”

“We don’t have that much time!”

Kuro looked around. They were wounded, outnumbered, and surrounded. The Red Samurai advanced tactically, in shield formation. In less than a minute, they would be dead.

Then it happened again. The large airlock to the laboratory, ten meters in front of them, began to open. Not completely. It jammed, spraying sparks as if the hydraulics were fighting against a safety interlock. A gap, just wide enough for a person.

He grabbed Rifa by the collar of her coat, yanked her to her feet, and they charged forward. Bullets whizzed around them. A shot hit Kuro in the back, sending him tumbling forward, but his armor plate absorbed most of the impact. He stumbled, nearly fell, and together they hurled themselves through the crack in the lab door.

Kuro turned on the floor and fired at the control panel on the inside. The panel exploded, and the door slammed shut with its last bit of force, locking mechanically.

Silence. Except for the heavy breathing of the two Runners and the dull thud of the Red Samurai against the steel door. Kuro turned. He leaned back against the door, blood running down his arm. Rifa lay beside him, clutching her bleeding leg, her face as white as a sheet.

And there she lay before them, on the same pedestal as before.

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