Inside Vault #3, the air burned with blinding, unnatural heat.
Unlike the obsidian gloom of Vault #4 or the rotting blood-scent of Vault #2, Vault #3 was an enormous sphere of molten brass and blackened iron.
Suspended in the center of the cavernous hall hung the Stellar Monopoly Furnace, a machine the size of a gas giant, pulsing with stolen solar fire. Thousands of massive siphon tubes stretched out from the furnace, drilling through dimensional rifts like bloated iron leeches.
Standing before the control console was Ancestor Tun Ri.
His body was nine meters tall, draped in robes woven from compressed solar flares. His skin was scorched like old charcoal, and streams of white plasma leaked from his nostrils with every breath.
[Ancestor Tun Ri. Vault #3 Master. Goodness Score: -95 / 100.]
Ancestor Tun Ri glared at the floating holographic monitors before him.
On the screens, five thousand newly hired Taichu employees in golden silk robes were laughing and eating peach-buns, while ninety thousand more were frantically sweeping streets in pink aprons.
