When most people got their first exposure to the Undercity of Olympia - if they ever did - that was the first word to come to mind. From the base, massive metal roads and brick or metal buildings rising through the cavernous expanse. Huge struts and supports crisscrossed each other, ensuring that Olympia did not collapse on itself... and those had been set up with plenty of housing, business, and other necessities for life in the undercity. For some people, despite the fact that you had to climb up several flights of thin stairs to see the doctor, or ride a rickety lift just to get home, the advantages of living in the underbelly of Olympia far outweighed the downsides.
And of course, even when you looked up, you were reminded of where you were. Sure, when far enough away, the massive light fixtures installed in the great ceiling of the city blurred together, allowing you to almost pretend it was natural light. The color and the pallor, though, as well as the lack of warmth, made sure everyone remembered that they were in an artificial world beneath the real one.
Then again, mused the man standing outside his office, carefully positioned nearly halfway to the roof of the undercity, he was just as artificial as everything else here.
"Dr. Kalcyon?"
Turning around at the mention of his name, loud clanks echo from the metal beneath mechanical feet. A tall, large body, entirely robotic from neck to toe... and atop that, a jar holding a human head, the last remnants of what was once a normal man. Dr. Philo Kalcyon, accomplished chemist and biologist, until the accident.
Now, just a test subject himself. Lucky enough to be given a new body with far more power and strength than his old one, yet unable to fit in normally. As he looks over his client for the day, he nods. At least the people down here understood him. Accepted him.
"Yes, how can I help you?"
"Sorry, Doctor, it's just... my insides. They feel like they're... they're not there."
"...Not there, you say? Yes, this does sound serious. Please, step inside."
He'd been able to eke out a living down here, putting all his knowledge of biology and chemistry to work as a doctor. When his patients were as strange as the mutants and other odd inhabitants beneath the streets, they were able to trust someone as clearly bizarre as he was. His metal body may have been large, but he couldn't deny how dexterous and careful it was - if anything, it was easier for him to make the gentle cuts and stitches that he needed than it was when he was a normal man.
It didn't take too long for him to figure out what was wrong... in a way.
"It's latent PK mutancy. I don't know how this is going to develop, so I'll want you to check in here every day until we have an idea of what's manifesting. Make sure you report any symptoms you see to me as soon as possible."
His bedside manner may have needed work, though.
As his patient began to leave, they turned back and asked him a question. A question that would change Dr. Kalcyon's plans for the day... and indeed, for the next several months.
"Doctor, did you hear about the Kobbers?"
"I hadn't."
"They're coming here! To Olympia. ...The surface city, of course. They wouldn't come down here."
His patient left, but Dr. Kalcyon remained. Lost in thought.
"The Kobbers. They wouldn't come down here... but perhaps I could go up there. Meet with them. See them in person.
Understand them."
