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You think you’ve seen the worst of Los Demonios?
Trust me, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve laid eyes on the Proxy Recycling Factory near Malibu (in Los Deminios).
This place is the stuff of nightmares— literally where proxies go to be gutted, sorted, and harvested for parts and materials.
It is truly a sickening place to be for more than an hour at a time…
Picture this:
A massive industrial complex sprawling across several city blocks.
The whole surrounding neighborhood chokes on this unholy cocktail — a rotten tinge, mixed with ammonia like chemicals and something sickeningly sweet that punches your gut and twists your insides. No filtration mask can shield you from it.
The stench invades you, becoming your unwelcome shadow for days.
The ground?
It’s a treacherous maze of rainbow-colored sludge that nobody dares name.
Workers shuffle around like the zombies, never lifting their feet—one wrong step could cause you to slip and you’re face-planted in synthetic goop that’ll eat through your clothes.
And the noise!
My God, the noise.
Imagine a thousand metal beasts screaming in agony while giant industrial teeth gnash and grind non-stop.
It assaults your ears day and night, a cacophony of destruction that never sleeps.
The yard itself is the real horror show—grotesque mountains of proxy parts towering toward the sky.
Arms, legs, torsos, and hollow-eyed faces silently witnessing their fate.
The factory devours these synthetic bodies ruthlessly, ripping apart what was once whole, cannibalizing valuable components like mechanical piranhas in a feeding frenzy.
A monstrous machine howls in the background, pulverizing whatever remains after the valuable bits are salvaged.
History of the Proxy Recycling Facility
Here’s the kicker—this hellscape used to be something miraculous.
Back when Proxus Inc. first cracked the proxy code, this was their gleaming crown jewel, their flagship printing facility.
The first generations of proxies drew their first synthetic breaths here.
They even printed three of the mysterious An’jels within these walls!
That sacred space remains untouched behind blast-proof glass—a pristine island in an ocean of industrial carnage.
Then SoulTech swooped in like vultures, forcing Proxus to surrender — it is rumored this happened through tactics that’d make a mob boss blush…
Overnight, a birthplace of innovation mutated into a synthetic slaughterhouse.
The real sucker-punch?
For the workers, this place is soul-crushing purgatory.
Most are folks who missed payments on their afterlife insurance, their digital souls hijacked and enslaved here for years.
They’re trapped in the ultimate cruel joke—dismantling discarded synthetic bodies while their own futures are ripped apart and liquidated for corporate profit.
Welcome to Los Demonios Proxy Recycling Factory — where proxies, dreams, and second chances all go to be shredded, cannibalized, and repurposed for someone else’s benefit in the future.
