Fuel Cell Complex

A low-slung utility installation half a mile west of the research lab, its corrugated metal skin dull under overcast skies. Exposed piping runs like veins along concrete pads, venting a steady hiss of coolant. Inside, the air hums with the mechanical breath of generators—red warning lights bleed into the corridor’s dim glow. Safety rails carry the scent of ozone; the only warmth comes from the pulsed glow of control panels where Stevenson’s diagrams glow blue under the flicker of emergency lighting. Scorby expects secrecy here, but the Krynoid could vanish among the shadows of tightly packed racks and throttled turbines.