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Description
The Confederate Infantryman had been expecting many things when he was taken by these machine men. Underground vaults filled with glittering and blinking panels like in the fiction videograph reels, or maybe a giant factory with a stack of smoke rising and dissipating into the sky.
Nothing quite like something on this scale, however.
Simply, it was a city. It looked like one - gray, tall and marked with many, many structures all over it. It was in far better state than many cities, however. For one, it actually resembled a gargantuan version of some of the old concrete facilities he had seen in his Basic Training. More so, the spires of the buildings seemed clean, or at least not blackened.

He was led forward suddenly, still looking about. As they entered through a truly massive door that was opened by large tubing connected to the things - hydraulics, he vaguely recalled from his brief stint in the engineering courses of his service and youth.
The innards of the city simply boggled the Tuzkinn man. He saw cables and pipes, and an utterly spectacular number of machine-men - some, also, looking like the Sergeant that lead him on - and something...
Robert balked as he saw numerous things. 'Things', because they most certainly did not have any resemblance to Men. Grotesque and deformed things, with their augments being barely enough to contrast between their sides. Had he been looking at one of them without any augments, the Infantryman thought he would have vomited. Pale flesh surrounded the ugly scars which in turn surrounded their augments, and they lumbered around with robotic disregard for themselves, hauling parts or operating machinery or reaffixing this or that.
Robert's head was knocked forward by the barrels of one of the machine-men following his guards. Wishing to remain at least in one piece, the Tuzkinn man got the message and kept his eyes forward.
That didn't stop him from noticing things about what was in front of him - nor did it stop what was in front from noticing him. He glimsed crowds of servant parting a way for the group 'escorting' him. Their stares were horrified ones. Did they never see a man without augment before now?
One group of the robed machine-men proved him wrong. They had positively flinched away when he looked at them, returning to their duties. He got the feeling that whatever had transpired between them was not good. For him, anyway.

They came through a hallway, where a repulsive sight met Robert's eyes. He saw people - starved, scared and poor, being led along in shackled hands and with metal collars around their necks by one of the machine-brutes.
The Confederate Infantryman's eyes bugged out as a stunned gasp left his mouth. Those people were slaves. He didn't realise he had stopped before the Sergeant had clapped an arm to his shoulder and shook him. Roughly, too.
"Those men! They are slaved!" Robert stunnedly said. To his further shock, the people around him laughed.
"They aren't people. They're chumps to be turned into Servitors." the Sergeant leading him explained, albeit with a strong accent.
"What?!" Robert's exclamation seemed to humor them even more.
"They are not persons. They are vat-grown sub-human clones. We make Servitors out of them." one of the other guards informed the Tuzkinn man. Robert blanched.
"Servants?" Slavery, among the worst of crimes, being the center of an entire base of population like this.
He didn't think the military forces would invade... key word in that statement being 'think'.
He was nudged forward, and with his head full of frantic thoughts he walked forward with his seemingly humored escort.

He began to notice various changes. The further they went into this massive construction, the better the interior became. The machinery seemed better maintained, the pipings less prone to leaking, and generally the entirety of the place was better. Soon enough, he was walking within gleaming halls with bright tapestries and large stations where groups of the machine-mutants walked by, carrying all sorts of things and fixing nigh everything.
Eventually, the group escorting him came up to a large, important-looking door. Robert presumed that this was the door which would bring him forth to their leadership.

The Confederate Infantryman raised his head, taking in a deep breath and taking the remains of his rifle in hand. He had but a few seconds to straighten his uniform as best he could as the door opened, disappearing into the walls. He was led inside without much fuss.
Inside, he saw a podium, surrounded by a set of booths where he could see more robed machine-men - some of them linked into cables and lines that went off into the walls. He was ushered forward by his advancing escorters, and eventually they ended up on the podium.
He drew in a breath. It looked as though his judgement was nigh.

Description
The Confederate Infantryman had been expecting many things when he was taken by these machine men. Underground vaults filled with glittering and blinking panels like in the fiction videograph reels, or maybe a giant factory with a stack of smoke rising and dissipating into the sky.
Nothing quite like something on this scale, however.
Simply, it was a city. It looked like one - gray, tall and marked with many, many structures all over it. It was in far better state than many cities, however. For one, it actually resembled a gargantuan version of some of the old concrete facilities he had seen in his Basic Training. More so, the spires of the buildings seemed clean, or at least not blackened.

He was led forward suddenly, still looking about. As they entered through a truly massive door that was opened by large tubing connected to the things - hydraulics, he vaguely recalled from his brief stint in the engineering courses of his service and youth.
The innards of the city simply boggled the Tuzkinn man. He saw cables and pipes, and an utterly spectacular number of machine-men - some, also, looking like the Sergeant that lead him on - and something...
Robert balked as he saw numerous things. 'Things', because they most certainly did not have any resemblance to Men. Grotesque and deformed things, with their augments being barely enough to contrast between their sides. Had he been looking at one of them without any augments, the Infantryman thought he would have vomited. Pale flesh surrounded the ugly scars which in turn surrounded their augments, and they lumbered around with robotic disregard for themselves, hauling parts or operating machinery or reaffixing this or that.
Robert's head was knocked forward by the barrels of one of the machine-men following his guards. Wishing to remain at least in one piece, the Tuzkinn man got the message and kept his eyes forward.
That didn't stop him from noticing things about what was in front of him - nor did it stop what was in front from noticing him. He glimsed crowds of servant parting a way for the group 'escorting' him. Their stares were horrified ones. Did they never see a man without augment before now?
One group of the robed machine-men proved him wrong. They had positively flinched away when he looked at them, returning to their duties. He got the feeling that whatever had transpired between them was not good. For him, anyway.

They came through a hallway, where a repulsive sight met Robert's eyes. He saw people - starved, scared and poor, being led along in shackled hands and with metal collars around their necks by one of the machine-brutes.
The Confederate Infantryman's eyes bugged out as a stunned gasp left his mouth. Those people were slaves. He didn't realise he had stopped before the Sergeant had clapped an arm to his shoulder and shook him. Roughly, too.
"Those men! They are slaved!" Robert stunnedly said. To his further shock, the people around him laughed.
"They aren't people. They're chumps to be turned into Servitors." the Sergeant leading him explained, albeit with a strong accent.
"What?!" Robert's exclamation seemed to humor them even more.
"They are not persons. They are vat-grown sub-human clones. We make Servitors out of them." one of the other guards informed the Tuzkinn man. Robert blanched.
"Servants?" Slavery, among the worst of crimes, being the center of an entire base of population like this.
He didn't think the military forces would invade... key word in that statement being 'think'.
He was nudged forward, and with his head full of frantic thoughts he walked forward with his seemingly humored escort.

He began to notice various changes. The further they went into this massive construction, the better the interior became. The machinery seemed better maintained, the pipings less prone to leaking, and generally the entirety of the place was better. Soon enough, he was walking within gleaming halls with bright tapestries and large stations where groups of the machine-mutants walked by, carrying all sorts of things and fixing nigh everything.
Eventually, the group escorting him came up to a large, important-looking door. Robert presumed that this was the door which would bring him forth to their leadership.

The Confederate Infantryman raised his head, taking in a deep breath and taking the remains of his rifle in hand. He had but a few seconds to straighten his uniform as best he could as the door opened, disappearing into the walls. He was led inside without much fuss.
Inside, he saw a podium, surrounded by a set of booths where he could see more robed machine-men - some of them linked into cables and lines that went off into the walls. He was ushered forward by his advancing escorters, and eventually they ended up on the podium.
He drew in a breath. It looked as though his judgement was nigh.