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April 2020 Approximately 1 week after the founding of Rurland 9:00 PM Ruins of Former Foundry Depot Two weeks ago this strip mall was shuttered, tenants bought out of their leases and ordered clear of the premises effective immediately. The convenience store and frozen yogurt shop that anchored the suburban holdfast vacated without even time for a going out of business blowout. One week ago the mall folded in on itself and fell into the hidden sub-basement of the Foundry weapons depot it had served as cover for. The owner of record claimed no ownership nor responsibility for the clean up. Curious teens crossed the police barriers some nights to poke at the craters edge. Private security had been placed within a few days to oversee the site at night when the initial cyclone fencing proved insufficient to deter the locals. Few had questioned why land that was left unclaimed was now under guard. They simply went about their lives happy the kids would be safe until it was cleaned up. Even fewer saw the small crew arrive and descend into the crater under the guards watchful eyes with nothing more than a knowing nod and wave. Which was why they had waited, now it was an eyesore best ignored not a recent disaster under careful watch from local authorities. Half an hour later the neighborhood shook with an all too familiar rumble as the edged of the crater began to collapse inward swallowing most of the street surrounding the hole. Alarms sounded up and down the streets and dogs were set to barking as lights lit up up and down the blocks shrouding the former depot with frightened civilians emerging to look on in fear as the crater slowly grew and broken pipes spewed water and natural gas into the sky just awaiting a spark. The guards car teetered on edge not quite swallowed by the growing sinkhole, but threatening to topple with every movement from the terrified rent-a-cop inside. Something had gone desperately wrong.