Post 2-2: Entering Scrapwall
The terrain continues to be composed of mostly rusted junk. Here and there, dirt has settled and small bits of wilted, stunted plant life have taken root, though a lot of them look sickly and dying. The narrow canyon looks treacherous. There is much less signs of scavenging here, as though the gangs from the other areas are wary about coming to this place.
As you wind your way farther along, the faint rumbling sound you had been hearing in the background gets louder and higher pitched tones add to it. As you round the last bend, you find yourselves faced with a wall of grinding, churning gears. Only two of the gears remain motionless, down near ground level, each about the size of a conventional door.
The notion of them being a "door" in the conventional sense doesn't seem to bear out, however. There are no handles or hinges, apparent.