"Ah!" Dean exclaimed, coming across the meeting site. "Here we go."

The workshop of the engineer was an old, rusted sewer room. It reeked of booze and oil, and the sound of hissing steam and clattering steel was a must. The engineer was a jumpy, middle-aged man, behind multiple painful experiments and tests on conduits. The D.U.P's eventual fall drove him to New York, abandoning his old life in favor of shady, underhanded work. Yet another explosion of sound vaulted him forward, landing on a rigid steel traffic light with catlike grace. A more powerful explosion vaulted him again, landing him on the ledge of a concrete building. His form of transportation was an odd, fun mix of conduit abilities and light parkour. He was still attempting to further his experience in parkour, unfortunately, as his first few days consisted of bruised knees and scratched hands. He garnered several questioning looks as a powerful explosion of sound launched him forward, rolling onto an old, weathered sidewalk. 

He got up, dusting off his jacket. His transportation tended to attract dust, dirt, and trash. In front of him lay a conduit bar, The Amp. His age, unfortunately, usually got him shooed away from the bar each time he attempted to enter. He briefly peered in, catching a glimpse of several figures. He sighed longingly. In a couple of years, he could be a degenerate alcoholic. For now, the bar was unknowingly the host to the engineer's workshop. He slid around back, ducking through an alleyway. It was a dirty, old, asphalt alleyway, laden with plantlife. He slid the massive, grimy dumpster across a splash of graffiti, revealing a dark, carved cubic hole into the sewer room. The boy took one last look around, slowly dragging the dumpster back across as he lowered himself into the abyss. The odor of gasoline and smoke was already beginning to assault his nose, and the temperature grew noticeably more humid.

He landed with a soft, dulled thump. The room was hardly illuminated, the only source of light being a small, soft orange glow, emanating from a wired bulb in the roof. The room was covered with intrusive pipes, furnaces, and vents. The roof was a maze of steel girders, the floor beaten concrete. On multiple, dusky oaken tables around him, lay various oiled, bronze machinery and gears. The engineer stood just several feet in front of him, facing away. He appeared to be working on a new project. A long, heated hiss filled the room. The engineer was holding a welder that smelted together steel plates. The boy slowly crept up to the engineer, attempting to get a better view of the machine. It appeared to be a gun of some sort, with a long, onyx barrel. A cobweb of neon green lines snaked the barrel, causing it to give off an eerie green glow. He continued creeping up to him, before, with a grin, shoving him with all of his might.

The engineer nearly fell, screaming in surprise. The welder moved erratically. The fine, welded line in the process was ruined, completely off course. "Hey, Phil!" He laughed, doubling over. "You seem a tad jumpy!"

"Eat shit!" Phil yelled, flicking off the welder. He swung around, sliding the sniper behind him. "I'm not in the mood for your goddamn games right now, conduit. I'm trying to make something here, you asshole!"

"Hey, I've been waiting for weeks now. I'm a little antsy here." Dean said, defensive. "I'm going to need that weapon soon."

"It's done, dickhead." Phil said, scowling. He nonchalantly slid the gun into a cabinet, and continued over to a steel container. "I've been frying my ass down here trying to finish it for you. Conduits left and right are coming here, requesting their own weapons and tools. The only reason I finished yours first was because it was so simple. I mean, just a couple of days ago, I had a tar conduit come in requesting a crossbow. That shoots tar slugs."

"You know, Phil, hanging out with you tends to remind me how much I hate you." Dean said, rolling his eyes. "I want to use the weapon. Now."

The engineer sighed, revealing a metal key. He slid it into the steel box, turning it, and opening it. A cool, damp hiss emanated from the container. "I've got it right here." He said, reaching into the box. "I don't see why you wanted [i]me[/i] to make it. It would've been real easy for you to make one yourself with a couple of welding lessons. Unfortunately, you're just too stupid and impatient for that."