Stray - Entry 12: Betrayal
Blazer carries the box to the entrance, chatting casually with the Companion on duty. Within moments, the guard waves him through, letting both Blazer, and us, inside without suspicion. Once past the checkpoint, Blazer sets the box down and starts to yuck it up with another factory worker. I seize the moment, slipping out of the box and darting behind a compressed cube of trash to take in my surroundings.
A massive production line stretches across the factory floor. Overhead conveyor belts haul caged bins of garbage, which are unceremoniously dumped into chutes leading down to the lower levels of the city. For a company that proudly advertises itself as a waste-management giant, I see very little actual processing or recycling, just an efficient system for pushing the problem downward, straight into the Slums.
The constant hum of machinery fills the air. Sentinels patrol every corridor, their searchlights sweeping relentlessly, probing for anything out of place or unexpected. I move carefully through the facility, slipping past roaring production lines, skirting control rooms, and leaping across foul wastewater canals. Every step is measured. Every pause deliberate. One careless move would draw the Sentinels’ gaze.
Deeper inside, I encounter a Companion leaning over a railing, staring down at the trash below. He explains that he lost the keys to his apartment and can’t go home. The Sentinels, unmoved by his frustration, see his predicament as a convenient excuse to keep him working. He asks for my help.
Not long after, I spot a familiar glint in a mound of refuse, his keys, half-buried among the garbage. Sympathetic to his situation and his quiet resistance to the Sentinels, I double back to return them. On the way, I draw the attention of several Sentinels, but I manage to evade them by hiding inside boxes and ducking behind towering piles of trash. When I finally return the keys, the worker presses a Neco Corp badge onto my harness in gratitude.
Eventually, I reach what must be the main control room. Its entrance is sealed off by a grid of humming laser beams. I try to dash through, only to be jolted back by a sharp shock that forces an involuntary leap and a pained "meow".
Nearby, I notice an empty barrel lying on its side. I climb inside, brace myself, and roll forward, gliding cleanly past the lasers without a scratch.
Inside, the room is far cleaner than the rest of the factory. Sleek, high-tech consoles and reinforced glass windows line the perimeter. At the center stands a pedestal encased within a protective pillar of metal and glass. Suspended inside is the Atomic Battery, radiating a green glow that washes over the entire room.
I quickly discover that the protective pillar is secured by a series of three pressure sensors positioned throughout the chamber. All three must be activated at the same time to disengage the lock. Thankfully, several cleaning robots are quietly sitting in the room. With B-12’s help, I guide them onto the sensors. Combined with clever use of the barrel, the pillar retracts, exposing the Atomic Battery. I grab it, and in an instant, the factory power cuts out.
B-12 immediately urges haste. The Sentinels will rush to the control room to investigate the sudden loss of power. We bolt through a rear exit and leap into a conveniently placed zipline bucket, which carries us swiftly back to the top of the elevator shaft between Midtown and the Slums.
We move fast, knowing the news of the factory shutdown will spread quickly through Midtown, drawing the attention of Peacemakers and Sentinels alike. As we hurry along, I spot the open door to an empty Peacemaker security office. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I slip inside, hoping to find something that might help us escape.
A framed image of a Sentinel on the wall triggers a memory in B-12.
“The Sentinels. They were meant to protect people. Fighting crime and maintaining order. But as life became harder in the city and groups started to rise up, the Sentinels quickly became the hounds of the powerful. They were the perfect tool to keep the city under control. Obedient, unquestioning, tireless. Even after the end of humans, they continued to exert their control. Always on duty, relentless."
Finding nothing else of use, we rush back toward the Residence only to see our fears realized. A blockade has been erected, sealing off both entry and exit. Dozens of Companions crowd the barricade, arguing desperately with the Peacemakers in an attempt to reach their homes. The chaos works in our favor, allowing us to slip under the barricade unnoticed.
Inside, Sentinels patrol the lobby and the upper hallways, their searchlights cutting through the gloom. We move carefully, slipping past them floor by floor until we reach Clementine’s apartment on the third level.
But she isn’t there.
However, pinned to the bulletin board in her workspace is a note addressed directly to us. It reads, "For B-12 and the cat: The answer lies in my stuff. Clementine", accompanied by a series of strange, unfamiliar symbols.
B-12 and I search the apartment carefully, scanning every shelf, corner, and hiding place for anything unusual. Before long, a pattern begins to emerge. Scattered throughout the apartment are objects that match the symbols from the note, each one concealing a fragment of a message:
- An incense burner in the living room: "I'm with"
- A crystal tucked away in the sleeping loft: "Blazer"
- A traffic cone perched on a mannequin head in the bathroom: "Come to"
- A lava lamp resting on a high kitchen shelf: "Nightclub"
The message is clear.
I slip back out of the apartment and head straight for the nightclub. A long line stretches out front, filled with Companions who were also denied entry to the Residence earlier. When B-12 speaks with the bouncer at the door, we’re firmly refused entry.
We strike up a conversation with a few of the hooligans from the Residence who are waiting in line. They mention a back way in, something they’ve used before. With that, I pad down a narrow alley that wraps around the rear of the building.
Behind the club, I spot a Companion on the ground chatting with another leaning out of a second-story window. Using window awnings and balcony railings as stepping stones, I leap upward, cross a series of pipes, and reach the open window. The Companion there gestures for me to jump inside.
Without hesitation, I do.
The club is vibrant and alive. It is a vast open space with a bar and dance floor stretching beneath a raised stage wrapped in speakers, cables, and holographic Companion dancers that flicker in rhythmic patterns. At the center of the stage, a DJ drives the party forward with bass-heavy tracks that vibrate through the floor and walls. Neon lights flood the haze-filled air in saturated purples, blues, and pinks.
Companions gather around high-top tables or sway and jerk in loose, mechanical dance movements. As I weave through the crowd, meeting various Companions, I can’t help but notice the unrestrained freedom they display here, a rare refuge far from Sentinels and Peacemakers.
I leap onto the bar counter and B-12 speaks with the bartender."Hey customer! The access to the VIP balcony is closed. Some private biz' is going on there. It has been reserved by some Blazer guy I think."
I glance upward and spot Blazer chatting with another Companion on the VIP balcony but Clementine is nowhere to be seen. If I want answers, I’ll need to reach Blazer.
We turn back to the bartender, who cuts us off before we can ask anything else."I had several complain so, no, we can't disable the Holo-Dancers because some idiot thought it was funny to steal the lever handle."
I hop down from the bar and move along its far end, where I discover a dumbwaiter. Without warning, it rattles to life and lowers me into a shadowy space beneath the club, a loading dock of sorts. At the center sits a small table with an empty bottle and two chairs. The sight stirs something deep within B-12.
“When I was human, my friends and I would gather and party long into the night even if we had to suffer the annoying consequences the next morning. It felt good to find joy despite the unlivable surface. And the underground living conditions becoming more and more squalid, And the capitalistic greed of companies like Neco Corp, And the police state created by the Sentinels. Now I remember why we were doing that."
With that memory lingering, we head back into the club, asking around and listening closely for anything that might help us reach the VIP balcony. That’s when we overhear a frustrated Companion venting nearby.
“Pfff... This club sucks. When I tried to go to that stupid VIP room, they kicked me out! ME! Can you believe it? So I stole this Lever just for kicks. If you get me a drink, I'll give you this silly Lever. I don't need it and I don't want to be caught with it."
An idea clicks into place.
I trot back to the bar, where B-12 quickly nabs a drink from the counter. We bring it back to the Companion, who gladly hands over the lever in exchange, unaware of just how useful it’s about to become.
I continue wandering through the club, searching for a way to reach Blazer. I leap onto the DJ podium and come face-to-face with DJ MatCee, who is completely absorbed in hyping up the crowd. From this vantage point, I spot a narrow walkway above the stage that could lead to the VIP balcony. The problem is the holo-dancer unit blocking the way. I’ll need MatCee’s help to lower it.
I hop back down to the dance floor and spot a loose record. I scoop it up in my mouth and weave through the dancers, returning to the DJ booth. I drop the record onto the turntable, and I begin rhythmically scratching it, remixing the track in real time. The beat stutters, twists and the club erupts. Companions cheer and the energy spikes.
DJ MatCee turns toward me, eyes wide."HARDCOOOORE!"
With the crowd distracted, I rush to the holo-dancer control and install the stolen lever, powering the unit down and lowering it into reach. I gesture to MatCee, who casually strolls over and reactivates the holo-dancer at just the right moment. I spring onto it, riding the lift upward until I can leap onto the narrow walkway in the rafters.
From there, I pad along until I reach another control panel, this one governing the ceiling lights. After some careful fiddling, I align the lights into a path, hopping from one glowing fixture to the next until I finally land on the VIP balcony. Just as I regain my footing, I spot Blazer slipping into a side hallway.
On the balcony, I pass a Companion named Raf, who says, "I have a very good relationship with the Sentinels. I don't understand why people complain so much about them."
The comment sends a chill through me.
I hurry down the hallway after Blazer and reach the private VIP room. Inside, I find Clementine. She is bound and restrained. She tries to speak, but her voice is muffled. Before I can react, Blazer steps into view, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
“Two birds with one stone. You're not as clever as you look, little cat. Anyway, nothing personal. Business is business. Business is money. And I value money way more than friendship or camaraderie. They are all yours."
Two Sentinels glide into the room, their targeting lights locking onto B-12 and me.
ZAP!
…everything goes black.
