Central Zone Factories Conveyor Assembly

The conveyor belt runs beneath flickering fluorescent strips, its metal segments groaning under the weight of stacked boxes moving between stations. The air smells of ozone and hot wiring, the scent of overworked machinery. Workers in environmental suits shuffle along its edges, their gloved hands adjusting containment seals on modified artifacts disguised as carnival props. The belt’s rhythmic clatter mixes with the hiss of pressure valves, creating a mechanical heartbeat that echoes through the vast chamber. Grease stains darken the grated flooring while emergency stop panels glow amber in the corners, their warnings ignored in the push to clear inspection quotas. This space demands speed and precision—where alien detritus becomes bureaucratic property, and human oversight bends under the weight of temporal warfare logistics.