“Deep in a forgotten foundry, a tiny FACTOPUS made its home in an abandoned furnace. It slithered through charred metal and ash, surviving on leftover coals and toxic sludge. As the heat from the active furnaces nearby began to seep in, the little FACTOPUS slowly fused with the blazing metalwork around it. Whenever danger lurked in the dim corridors—a stray scavenger or a lurking predator—the FACTOPUS defended itself with an inky spray of crude oil, staining everything in its path. Yet, with every passing day, its kind grew fewer and farther between. Now, only the faint hiss of steam and the echo of dripping oil remind us that the FACTOPUS once lived—and may still linger—somewhere in the hidden depths of the old furnace.”