Delta Magna Refinery Forecourt

The refinery’s forecourt squats in the industrial heart of Delta Magna, its weathered concrete pads etched with tire tracks and puddles of chemical runoff that glint dully under the pale sky. Chain-link barriers sag against rusted stanchions, and the air hums with the distant thrum of machinery even as the floodwaters lap at the edges of the compound. Fenner and Thawn move between scattered crates of gear, their Tyvek suits crinkling like stiff whispers as the wind carries the sharp tang of oil and wet earth. The perimeter floodlights flicker to life, casting long shadows that shrink away from the flooded marshes beyond, where the hovercraft’s shallow skims already disturb the stagnant water.