Marcus stopped in the doorway just in time to notice two things. The first was Savannah apparently blowing up Lawrence; something he would have been way more upset about were it not for the fact that Lawrence seemed minimally affected, and the second thing he had noticed.

A creature that Marcus could only assume was a Collector, stopped in the street. There was no doubt in his mind that they'd been noticed. Which meant they needed to leave immediately.

But they certainly couldn't leave without the people hiding in the basement. But that thing was far too close for them to be able to get everyone loaded and gone. But they couldn't just leave the group to die, or whatever the thing would do when it found them.

Too many 'but's and 'if's were floating around in his head right now. Indecision had lead to Lawrence's injury, and he wasn't going to let anybody else get hurt by standing in place processing the situation.

Without waiting for Lawrence's instructions, Marcus bounded back across the room to the door, hammering on it with his fist.

"Marcus here! It it time to go! NOW!"

Once again, things were happening too quickly. She watched from inside the truck as a rolling car, running man, and a giant clockwork creature came into view. She agreed with Savannah, the man needed help. But she also agreed with Lawrence. They needed to stay in the truck because they couldn't do anything against the Collector, no matter how much she too wished that something could be done. Their team hadn't even been able to deal with an already injured dog by themselves, how could they deal with this giant?

But Sav hadn't listened, and now Lawrence was on the pavement... and the Collector had stopped it's pursuit of the man. Maybe the man would be safe now, but only because now their team was in danger instead. Taking advantage of Sav's frozen state, she jumped out of the truck and took a hesitant step towards her while still remaining near the truck. "Sav, come on," she said in a loud whisper, gesturing back towards the truck and then towards the Collector as she spoke. "The man's already gone, see? Maybe we can find him later, but for now we need to get out of here!"

Savannah nodded stiffly as Lawrence got back to his feet. "I'm sorry," she said into her hands as she moved past Sophia, rushing into the truck. Lawrence said nothing as he motioned for Sophia, Dean, and Lauren to follow suit.

Too far away to hear anything else, the Collector resumed its pursuit of the man.

By the second knock, the basement door flew open. The man in the green cap nodded curtly, calling out to the others, "Come on! Hurry!"

The blonde woman and raven haired teen followed after him first, each carrying one of the children, while the two other men brought up the rear. As the last survivor climbed into the APC, the sound of wreckage and a desperate scream signalled that the chase had come to an end.

"Drive! Now!" said Lawrence sharply, closing the door as the group sped off towards the point marked on the map by the Halvost Team.

Bringing up the back of the group as they piled into the APC, Marcus was relieved to see that the Collector was not immediately barreling down on him. He was more than prepared to find that they were seconds away from driving without the full group, but was happy to find that not being the case.

He tried not to think about how happy he was someone else had been killed, and not any of their group.

"Everyone alright?" Marcus asked, looking around the vehicle, giving Lawrence a deliberate glance as he did so.

Sophia had heard that scream. That person was not alright because, well... so much for picking him up later. Her gaze wandered over to the children in the truck, and she couldn't help but wonder how many loved ones that man had left behind. Or perhaps those close to him had already died?

Marcus's voice brought her back to the present, and she nodded weakly. "Yeah," she whispered. Realizing that she could now use her power once more, she turned it back on. "I uh, power. On." Time to try and make herself useful again.

Lawrence merely glanced at Marcus before returning his attention to his communicator, checking the map for any changes. The others nodded, some staring out the window at the looming Collector in the distance as they sped away.

Everyone was fine, everything had turned out okay. Savannah seemed to be taking her earlier action with no small amount of regret, so he assumed that she was currently under control. Or at least, as under control as an apparently pissed off aberration could be.

He took a look at the live map feed, a thought crossing his mind. The collector was pretty far away by now, but it's not like a quick 'heads up' would hurt anybody. Pulling his radio from his belt, he switched it back over to Brandt Team.

"Brandt Team, this is Evac. Almost had a run in with a collector about..." he stopped suddenly, nervously looking around at everyone gathered on the vehicle. They weren't supposed to give away the healer's positions, no matter what the situation. And while he didn't think anybody here was a threat, there was no reason to risk it.

"...near-ish you. It shouldn't be a threat, but just keep your eyes on the map."

"Hey, speaking of eyes," the man in the turtleneck sweater grinned, motioning towards his bandages. He winced his one green eye. "Never got an answer to that question earlier. Any healers here?"

"Not in here with us, no." Marcus said, giving a glance over towards Sophia as her eyes lit up again. Back on the clock, no point wasting time circling back around to Brandt team now, they needed to use Sophia's ability to the best while they had it.

Marcus turned to Lawrence, plan already forming in his mind, but wanting to get another opinion on it. "What do you think, Lawrence? Head towards Halvost group, grab their subnatural and any people we find on the way, then have them heal us up while we're there?"

Of course, there was always the option he didn't want to voice out loud: They're not as important, don't waste your healer on normal civilians..

He shook his head slightly to clear the thought. It was probably the best course of action, but there was no way he was going to be the one to suggest it.

"Mm," Lawrence looked up from the map, "We definitely need to pick up the rogue first. If Halvost team is smart, they'll have tied him up and moved locations." He cast a doubtful look a the one eyed man, "But we'll see, I guess."

"That means you better get used to looking like a pirate," the man with the green cap gleefully chuckled under his breath.

Emma scowled. Not good enough! Everyone else will die if I let Determination wade into the enemies. Still, she was at a loss as to what to do. Hazel had managed to stop the spider's attack for but a moment before they began to regroup, but in doing so had pulled the others into a group that the enemy now surrounded. Angel's raging didn't help... did she not understand that Hazel had saved them? Was now really the time to go off on Hazel? During the time Emma had spent worrying about what to do the others already began to resolve the situation, a series of waves coming from Angel and a large attack from Hazel.

You're falling behind. Not useful enough.

Emma waited until Hazel and Angel were done to summon Determination beside them. "Clear out any remaining spiders!" she shouted, hoping that Hazel and Angel would be enough to take care of the centipedes. For a moment Emma reached for her radio. She wanted to tell Angel to shut the fuck up. She wanted to tell Siena to take it easy, that they'd handle it, that she needed to catch her breath after being attacked by the canine, that she didn't need to...

Emma shook her head. Now wasn't the time. She had to focus on the battle, and getting caught up in pointless conversations wouldn't help.

---

---

They left "David" at an intersection where the residential lots met a street of small businesses smashed to rubble, the captive's pained sounds his only noises of protest now. On the phone display, Gregory had entered that same street, though a block north, and that much closer to the worst of the fighting. Faint vibrations through the ground denoted furious combat in the direction of both the offensive support team and the strikers while a flash of purple light shot towards the fray from an intact apartment building only meant the defensive supporters had to step in after all, rather than just wait for any stragglers to mop up.

It wasn't ideal, and Gregory so far out of position while a collector type prowled several blocks away only seemed to emphasize just how little control they had over the situation. Nothing seemed to be going as planned, especially when the distant, looming figure of Factory tried to stand again despite two of its legs hanging slack from its body.

It was all too much to take in, really. Just a few hours ago they had been playing at being students in a school, but they hadn't rehearsed enough to play at being soldiers on a battlefield.

Christmas glanced at the reddened skin around the edges of the blindfold, grimacing at the flesh seared by both the orange coloration of pepper spray and the burn of drain cleaner. His own injury sent a sharp pang through his neck as well, reminding him that they truly were taking an eye for an eye here. And then some.

The right thing to do was heal the victim. They had to be breaking some conventions of war here, he thought, but knew better than to undo the work of two testy Aberrations. Instead Christmas averted his eyes, because not seeing was always easier, especially when everything seemed so bleak--so unbecoming of teenagers who could barely manage themselves let alone a no-holds-barred match against a subnatural capable of this. He had zipped up Sander's jacket upon leaving earlier, afraid the flapping edges of the loose outerwear would catch on something and he'd be forced to leave it behind in a rush. Now he looked decidedly underwhelming in a blue hoodie that bloused around his arms and sagged where it hung low well past his hips.

But it was soft and it was warm, so he didn't mind the look of swimming in the clothes. He focused on those sensations instead of the destruction around them, the odd stains of dark and brownish red here and there, the occasional distant rumbling of something or other walking---prowling, and the clamor of his own pulse in his ears that the helmet seemed to insulate and amplify in his head.

"Hopefully this whole experience'll teach you not to mess with superpowered strangers," Ernie commented lightly as he secured David's ankles with more tape. It'd make it harder for Marcus to load the Arbiter onto the truck but at least there'd be less chance of him getting away. Not that there remained much chance at all, considering the healer team's handiwork. With a few more rough kicks to the torso and a violent coughing fit provoked by another direct spray of pepper, David was left on the road as a satisfied Ernie trotted back to his team's new temporary camp.

They were closer to the action now, a lot closer than he would've liked. Wary eyes scanned their whereabouts, determined to not let a second subnatural come as close as David had gotten. They wouldn't be caught off-guard a second time, especially now that the danger lurked closer than ever before. Ernie's gaze flickered back and forth between his phone and the window. The proximity of those dots, not good at all. He observed with worry as one large dot in particular sped down one of the main roads, close to Marcus' team. Too fast. Not good.

"Zoe," he called, successfully sounding calmer than he really was, "do we really need to stay here? I don't like the look of those big guys."

Zoe glared down at the map, trying to think things through. It was true, they were vulnerable in this position, and the big ones were worryingly close. Still, the idea of fleeing didn't sit well with her, and it showed.

"Not many options. East's closer to the fighting, North's practically all rubble, and we can't head back where we came from in case that mic had a tracker." She scowled at the rapidly-moving dots, looking more frustrated than worried. "Unless you fancy a hundred-metre sprint over open ground, South's out too."

After a second's pause, she sighed, managing to look even more annoyed than before. "There's an undamaged building to the Northwest. No real shelter 'til we get there, but I guess it could be an option." Despite the concern about their safety, Zoe seemed genuinely irritated at making the suggestion. It was dumb, but she felt reluctant to swallow her pride and run away.

"Mm," Ernie scratched his head as if he were actually debating the option. It was important not to show how much he wanted to take it, "I think that's a good move. It's not that much further from our current position and Brent would have a clearer view if we get into trouble again. Healer's safety comes first after all."

He chose to not raise the topic of David's proximity to the monsters, lest it affected Zoe's course of action. If ensuring their safety meant throwing the chubby bastard to the dogs, then so be it. Ernie was sure that Kardos and whoever monitored the radios would have caught wind of their captive, yet they had remained silent. If they actually wanted Halvost Team to bring David in, then they would have said something. But they hadn't so it was fine to leave him behind. That was Ernie's rationale anyway. Moral standing wasn't even on his list of priorities at the moment.

Christmas blinked at the suggestion, looking between the prone David in the street ahead and his teammates. He knew what they were doing, in a way, but grasping the essence of it--that of leaving someone to die, potentially--was eluding him in a way that felt almost relieving. He didn't want to think about his actions here, or his lack of action here. The morally right thing wasn't always the situationally right thing, he tried to assure himself, but the feeble attempt to lay out a justification only worsened that nagging guilt.

He hadn't protested any decision Zoe or Ernie had made, nor did he have a mind to after what happened with David, but it scared him to know that were the decision left up to him, he might have chosen the same thing, but after much longer deliberation.

Cold evening air and creeping shadows across the ruined ground pulled his eyes away from David whimpering in the distance, the dampness on his throat icy in the faint wind. He didn't know if something so small warranted the quivering figure across the broken asphalt. More things to not think about unless he wanted to risk finding out their exact weights on the scales of his fear and shame.

"Better get moving then. We can't afford to waste time."

The situation didn't sit well with Zoe, especially as she caught sight of their victim on their way out. It was obvious what the implications were here, and part of her wanted to fix it, to pretend she was better than this. But instead she kept walking, resolved to do what had to be done despite the bad taste in her mouth. For one of their own group, she'd face down the monsters alone if she had to, but David wasn't someone she cared about. And when it came down to it...

Well, everyone was selfish in their own way. And even if the others wanted to play hero, that was never her place, or her intention. Zoe may not have considered herself as a priority, but her teammates' lives had to be cared for, even if that meant there were victims paying the price. Evil, maybe, if you saw things in black and white, but ultimately necessary. Someone had to take responsibility.

Still, that didn't stop it from weighing on her conscience as the team approached their new location, leaving the constructs and David far behind them.

Before Kusari could get a response from Allison Marcus's voice came through the radio again. She tensed at his words, and quickly checked the map. The collector didn't seem to be aware of their presence, at least for now. Regardless she was starting to feel a lot like a fish at the bottom of a barrel. She clenched her teeth and let out a breath. She wasn't going to panic, she wasn't going to let this scare her. She was invincible, nothing could kill her. She'd be fine.

"Just... fine." She quietly muttered to herself, her eyes glaring at the open windows to the streets outside. She contemplated what she'd do if a collector did attack them. What did she say to her team, that she'd fight the threat alone while they ran away? That sure was easy to say, doing it was another thing. She'd like to think she wouldn't run, after all she'd always had more of a Fight or Bite response to conflicts.

Whatever the case was, all she could do at the moment was wait.

---

---

---

---

Scrambling to her feet once she was free from the wreckage, Callan vainly rubbed her palms against her thighs in an attempt to clean them off. It was no use-- she was absolutely covered in a stubborn layer of dirt. The dust had yet to settle and she coughed as she waved her hand in front of her face. The action brought less relief than she'd hoped-- awakening a peculiar ache inside her chest. She tried not to think about it.

A few slivers of light pierced through the mine's opening, still mostly clogged with shattered support beams, rocks, and dirt, some of which was still very damp from the rain. With it being so cloudy, the light was faint, but it was enough. Focusing on that, Callan set to work. Tossing rocks aside, she dug as fast as she could-- stopping only to curse when the movement of one particular rock caused a miniature collapse.

Finally managing to create an opening big enough to crawl through, Callan climbed out. Setting her sights on Factory, she ran, still trying to ignore the burning in her lungs.

---

---

Chris was satisfied to see the sphere Sander lobbed do a great deal of damage to the construct that had blasted him severely. With the serpent distracted with its own injury, the dragon-arbiter sprang off of the ground as fast as he could. Blood had been sent down in showers from his swift motion, yet despite the pain Chris powered through with a roar to boost his own confidence, trying to reinforce the belief that he was indestructible. His jaws then closed as he tried to discern a good place to strike the beast. Flames Then began to leak from his closed maw as he flew.

The dragon rolled above the construct in the air before delivering a strike from its front claw to the serpent's back, all the while unleashing the fire within his throat in hopes the heat and force together could tear the machine in two.

Surrounded, all around his team. Wiping a bit of dirt from his face, Grant gulped down the lump in his throat, almost feeling dry. Discomfort. From this situation, and from the enemies closing in. His teammate’s shout and rage, the desperation. He shook his head, his teammates continuing their detached attacks on the surrounding Metalworks.

Random shouting, minions attacking, a sweeping attack from the emotionless girl. How was he supposed to get an attack in without getting in the way of any of this? It was almost frustrating. The fact how the whole team was acting as a mess. He was looking for an opening among the group of attacks. Waiting…

And he eventually figured, waiting for Hazel’s attack to end would be preferable. Once it had, he’d step toward the Arachnid Metalworks that were still standing, away from the other attacks, hoping, and he dug his chains back into the ground, but instead closer to the enemies. Wider apart from each other. Deep breath. He started to pull a wide wall up from the earth. Pressure pushing down on him, harder than his usual projectile pull. Grunts and struggling noises came from his clenched teeth, his brows tensing toward one another. Raising the earth as much as he could, and before he could get too carried away, he let the raised earth tilt forward.

Relief flooded through his senses as his chains released the earth, letting it fall and crash down on the ensuing Arachnid Metalworks like a wave. Grant stopped himself from just giving out and collapsing, planting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, his eyes clenched shut.

"If it gets to be too much, you can take it out on me."

"No." Allison gritted her teeth, fingers digging into the underside of the seat again. She let out a deep sigh, releasing her grip along with it, placing her arms on her legs in front of her. Allison stared at the ground, leaning forward, keeping the tentacle-armed girl out of view. "I appreciate it, but no. I can handle myself. I'll be fine." Allison didn't know if she was telling the truth or not, she just didn't want to hurt Kusari, even if it wouldn't harm her.

After Allison answered, she registered the message from evac team. She checked the map. The collector was most definitely close. Hopefully it wouldn't come for them, but if it did, she would be able to numb her stigma for a little while.

Despite that, the close proximity of the machine put some fear in Allison's head, fighting with the stigma for dominance over her thoughts. Kusari's ability didn't inherently add all that much to a fight, besides immortality and monstrous limbs. She'd likely fair relatively well, what with the whole inability to die thing. Allison, though, had an ability that could possibly defeat each machine in a single stroke. If there was fighting to be done, Allison would have to be willing and ready to join in, and oh was she ready.

Gregory Irving

---

---

Sighing in relief as the construct stopped its pursuit to wander north towards the offensive support instead, Gregory studied the map for a few moments before determining the other three weren’t threats either. Well… the two that continued towards the theater were close enough that he didn’t want to hang around, but he probably had a minute or two before they’d start to move away from their destination. Looking around at his rather bleak surroundings, he frowned for a moment and brought the phone up. “Off. support. Collector heading towards you.”

With the bad news delivered, Gregory decided to make his way further west. While the closest buildings were pretty much levelled, it looked like there was one on the north side of the street still standing. Way further than his original position, but it was about the best he could get going from the map. Flicking the baton out and refolding it as he walked past busted up stores, he occasionally paused to look in through shattered windows and glance at the map on his phone.

Breath escaped between clenched teeth as the situation progressed much better than expected. The threat of the spider net had been more or less obliterated by Hazel, who then went on to eviscerate the spiders and centipedes with a sweeping strike. Emma’s sludge monster had slowed the multi-legged clockworks to the extent that the surrounding tactic that he had warned them about wasn’t effective at all, while a combination of Angelic and Grant’s attacks seemed to clear off what remained. The ‘main team’ had rested enough to help out as well now, the clockwork numbers thinning dramatically. Off in the distance, the flying snake had sustained noticeable injuries from both Sander and Chris, while Callan…if nothing else, it was clear that she was still alive and kicking.

One large dot was uncomfortably close to Offensive Support, the elephantine figure easily spotted from Brent’s vantage point, but at the same time, he couldn’t imagine it being much of a threat at all. Hazel was proving herself much too useful, both the strongest shield and the strongest sword, and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Factory’s magic wasn’t enough to prevent its army from being disintegrated by those purple constructs of hers, and its giant form, while impressive, clearly didn’t hold up against Sander’s invulnerability or Callan’s destructive force. No one had been injured so far, if Siena’s ‘I’m fine’ was to be trusted and the one subnatural that attacked Ernie’s team had been subdued.

The magic within his gun faded, the Desert Eagle turning back to polished steel.

His eyes glanced over the map once more, before he clicked his tongue. That large dot was only getting closer.

“A big one’s getting real close, Offensive Support,” he spoke, watching it churn through rubble, “At 100 meters or so right now. Watch your back. Shouldn’t be much of a problem though, judging by prior performance.”

And then, his eyes narrowed.

“Christmas, is there a particular reason why you’re getting closer to the frontlines?”

---

---

---

Steel and iron scales gave way as easily as fabric under the dragon's claw and Chris's fire melted the serpent's impossible wiring and connected armatures sheathed in the now-penetrated protective layer of metal. The damage spread far enough to shut down a third of its body, destroying the supernatural mechanisms powering three other wings in the process. The two remaining wings prematurely released a scatter of red lines into the sky, but impacted nothing as the creature spasmed in the air. It turned towards Chris, red lights flaring down the lengths of its body as it rushed towards him, intending to knock him out of the sky once more.

Below them, Sander's fists were breaking through the sphere's reinforced armor, revealing rough, veined alloys that appeared at first to be leaking some sort of oil. Looking closer, it was a mix of human blood and machine lubricant. As another fist punched through the penultimate layer, a partially mechanized arm came into view, merged with the metal of the orb by bronze wires that pulsed and pulled with the elasticity of arteries, melding with skin and muscle almost seamlessly. The arm twisted and bent at the wrong angles with every blow against the spidery lines tracing across the final sheaths of defense, like an alternative patellar reflex gone horribly wrong. If there was a person left in there, not even Benediction would be able to fix it.

Above the core, Factory loomed, undamaged hand outstretched to retrieve the sphere. Its balance failed as it leaned forward on the two unsteady legs and the entire construct toppled with a thundering crash onto both Sander and the orb, creating a depression in the ground as long as a high-rise building.

The impact reverberated through the town like a quake as the earth spat dust and dirt sky-high and outward.

Circling around the offensive support team, the centipedes' and spiders' formation provided an unwitting bulwark against the surge of soil and gravel that swept towards them just as Angel's attack tore through four spiders and part of another centipede, spending them crashing back into each other and easily into range of Hazel's sweeping slice. Her annihilating cut horizontally bisected the entirety of the closest centipede, shutting it down and dropping it heavily into the sludge of the floor as Grant reshaped the earth into another barrier that crashed onto the decimated clockworks' remains.

Determination was grappling with two spiders at once when the rush of earth reached them, threatening to drown them in particulate matter.

But Devotion was still obeying its order, and Emma's tulpas knew neither fear nor lack of concentration. The wall of dirt turned to sludge as it entered Devotion's range, splattering onto both team members and enemies as a thick, dark liquid that impeded movement, but didn't crush them under its weight, rolling over them like a tidal wave and settling into the sludge already across the floor. While it protected the group, the effect also prevented any severe damage to the remaining clockworks in its field as well. Disoriented, but still functional, the remaining spiders flung the remnants of the net at the group caught in the center, catching mostly Angel in the deadly thin wire mesh and slicing superficially into the exposed skin of her face, but tightening dangerously as the creatures pulled.

Nearby, but well out of Devotion's inadvertent safety net, Genevieve had thrown up her barrier immediately, decreasing its size to make it easier on herself and protecting Ethan as the dirt obscured both them and the three dogs outside of the tulpa's range.

The remaining tide of ground and rubble petered out quickly, leaving only a light rush of dust catching on the evening wind towards the rest of town.

The titan's sudden fall and the subsequent explosion of earth had damaged its good arm and it now struggled to raise itself back up on weakened appendages, failing repeatedly in tandem with the weakening core.

Too close to the sudden onslaught of soil, the mine's entrance was almost entirely flooded with dirt again, the sudden rush sweeping Callan off her feet and shoving her right back towards the collapsed entrance.

Far behind her, Dylan pulled the nearest steel walls and girders out of position, abandoning maintenance efforts as he closed off that entrance to the mines temporarily, reinforcing the new metal wall repeatedly with both the already existing material and the newly generated segments he created.

The quaking shook the mines and several tunnel segments held hollow by weaker metal plating collapsed, closing off certain routes and damaging several storage areas of food and supplies. Detecting all the damage at once to his subterranean base, the mage had to resist swearing out loud. Fixing all that would take ages between resting and generating more metallic components.

He focused on making sure the current entrance was fortified, already tallying up the workload in his head.

---

The APC reached Cain's location without incident after narrowly avoiding the previous collector and the back doors opened for Lawrence to get a good look at their recent captive. He raised an eyebrow.

Zoe hadn't been the most merciful of Aberrations, especially from the flag football game, but he knew her to be apologetic even if she held firm in following through on threats. That was the thing. She at least warned you if she was going to make you regret it. By his guess, this guy hadn't taken the hint.

With a sigh, he jumped down and hoisted the blubbering mess into the car, sliding him across the floor and towards the far corner, ignoring the shocked sounds and gasps of the car's extra occupants. Not the time for pity at the moment. They were starting to get pretty full. Their driver would likely begin making his way back to the drop-off point soon before another foray into the other side of town, so it was best to hurry this up before anything catastrophic happened, because Lawrence of all people knew these fights never ended cleanly. He had seen enough of the sheer destruction wrought by Dreamcatcher's monsters that he figured it still had one or two tricks up its sleeves, no matter how well they handled the situation.

The ground shuddered violently beneath him, as if confirming his suspicions.

Dust-laden wind rushed over them, prickling his eyes with the small grains and irritating his already chapped lips. Whatever had happened, he didn't want to be a part of it.

He was already stepping back onto the APC when a young man's voice shouted from behind the nearest intact building.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Lawrence scrambled for the pistol in his holster, having needed both hands free to grab the unfortunate victim of what looked to be Zoe's ire.

"You guys military? We could use some help!"

The footsteps and voice drew closer, but Lawrence was already facing them, his gun raised and ready.

"Stop."

They stopped. It was a small group of three: one young male of seemingly Middle Eastern descent, a black-haired girl who looked to be in her early twenties, and another slender girl with long blonde hair tied in a neat ponytail behind her, blue eyes flicking between Lawrence's trigger finger and the rest of the equipment on his belt. She had a blue and orange themed tartan scarf and the other two were in turtleneck sweaters--black and grey stripes for the guy and a white, cable knit for the black-haired girl.

"Necks," Lawrence gestured slightly with the gun's barrel.

"Woah, man, we're just trying to get out of here," the guy replied, raising his hands slowly towards his throat. "I'm just going to pull down my turtleneck, okay? Don't shoot. We're not subnaturals--"

The man doubled over before his hands could reach the layered fabric over his throat, collapsing to the ground with a loud cry of pain.

"Behind you!" the black-haired girl screamed, hands over her open mouth as she stared at something over Lawrence's shoulder.

He spun quickly, reflexes sharp enough to make the action almost instant.

There was nothing there.

He realized too late the deception as a bright yellow field appeared below his feet, lifting him without letting him control the angle of his body. Lawrence faced downward, staring at the ground as he berated himself mentally. He had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, and they were about to be attacked by potentially three enemy mages.

"Marcus--" he tried to order them to leave him behind and run, but a sharp spike like an elongated pyramid jutted out from the ground, spearing upwards and puncturing his chest just as the levitation field disappeared and let gravity run its course again.

Impaled only briefly on the spike before that, too, slid back into the asphalt covered in his blood, Lawrence struggled to remain conscious, hoping Marcus had the sense of mind to leave before things could get any worse.

From inside the truck, he could hear the other passengers screaming.

"Tr-transmit," he wheezed, the sensation of liquid in his lungs already confirming the extent of the damage.

The cuff's light turned on as the three sets of footsteps drew near. Lawrence didn't know whether to be relieved or infuriated when he heard the driver's door open, the soldier coming round to help--or more likely die trying.

---

The sudden shaking threatened to collapse the apartment building's weakened, external structures and small fragments of cracked flooring and wall paneling did crumble loudly to the ground. There was no further damage, however, once the rumbling ceased and the location seemed to hold steady afterwards.

In the near distance, Gregory had bounded away from the proximities of the closest collectors, taking up position in a small office building where the words "Morton & Mill Accounting" in large, individual acrylic letters had been torn from their iron scaffolding, leaving only the name "Morton" intact amid marred plaster and wood.

Where the proprietors had gone was anyone's guess, but the lack of bodies and blood at least meant they had escaped the building unscathed.

The collectors that had converged on the theater by now had obliterated what remained of the building in their single-minded hunt for living people, ignoring entirely--or perhaps entirely unaware--that their pursuit methods were more likely to kill their targets than spare them.

Regardless, the creatures exited the now collapsed theater amid a small rain of rubble, showing no notice of the trembling ground below them. The sound did attract the attention of the collector southwest of the offensive support team and it plodded forward with the same uncaring devotion to its only programmed task.

The remaining collectors separated outside of the theater, one heading west while the other went east. The southernmost quadruped thundered towards Lily, Kusari, and Allison, its long, clockwork hands pawing at the area immediately around it. Soon, it would be in range to detect them outright.

---

Emma raised her arms to protect herself as the torrent of dust and sludge came upon them, struggling to keep upright on the shakin g ground. "Shit." she muttered under her breath, realizing that the source of the sludge was Devotion. It only took a couple of seconds for him to disappear, the sludge dissipating alongside it. Now she had to worry about Angel, who was caught in the spider's deadly web. Emma took a second before reacting, Determination appearing between a pair of spiders. "Kill the spiders!" Determination was quick to comply, picking the two nearest him and smashing them against each other before moving towards his next target.

Emma's attention was taken by the screams that were now coming from her walkie-talkie. What the hell? Thankfully she didn't recognize any of the voices, but her hand still darted to retrieve it from her belt. "Who is that? What the hell is happening!?" the words came quickly, panic in her voice.

---

---

The armor broke, eventually, and Sander plunged his hand into soft flesh beneath. It moved, but there was no sound. No screams of pain and terror his Stigma was clamouring for. No indication that this thing was even remotely human. Because it was. Its blood was wrong, the heat it gave him miniscule. But he would take everything, regardless. He needed this.

The fire flowed back into his limbs as he absorbed the monster’s tainted blood. Then suddenly, shadow pooled around him. Sander turned his head, but it was too late. The weight of metal crashed over him, pinning him into the orb’s jagged metal. He let out a grunt of frustration, the stirred dust prickled at his senses and threatened to choke him. He needed to get out. Cold metal jutted against his skin as he lifted himself on all four, then slowly clawed his way toward the light, swatting away anything in his path. The orb wasn’t forgotten, of course, as he dragged it out with him. Once free of the colossus’s weight, he turned his full attention back to the broken orb.

He caught something fleshy this time. With a quick jerk of his hand, it came off, alloy and skin meshed together in a chaotic pattern. Awful, screeching noises emanated from the creature, prompting Sander to bring his hand down on it. Had his mind all here, Sander would have balked at the abomination. But he wasn’t, so he just held the severed arm aloft, wild eyes watching the glistening metal before closing his jaws around a fleshy bit. Warm blood dripped down his throat, and immediately, the red glow was back around him. It called for more, but he remembered why he was here. This thing needed to die. Dropping the mutated limb, Sander dug further, dragging out bits of flesh and metal, frowning each time the thing screeched and the terrible sound hit his sensitive ears. Eventually, he grasped hair. His fingers crept lower, digging and pulling, breaking into flesh and metal alike. The head came off, finally, with a last high pitch screech, the sound like grating metal.

He looked into its lifeless eyes, the face that was vaguely human, yet most definitely not. He wondered…what did he look like.

The heat flared again, so Sander dropped the thing at his feet, and thought no more about that. There were more strange scents. More things to chase down and to dispatch, now that the fire in his chest was burning full force again.

Focus.

“T-Transmit…” -Sander managed against the crazed thirst that still hounded his thoughts –“I…killed it. I will…kill the next one.”

“Over.”

With that done, Sander turned to the new scent, chasing it toward the mines.

Barely hearing Brent’s words transmitting now on her cuff’s speaker, Angel turned her face to witness the behemoth clockwork starting to barrel down on the rubble of the buildings behind the offensive support group, slowly but surely making its way towards them.

“Fucking great…”

Angel muttered just as her vision was now clouded once more by dust that came from the massive Factory that had crashed to the ground, causing a shaking from the soil even Angélique felt at this distance. Devotion’s sludge splashing onto her clothes and naked bits did not help to appease the sonic Mage’s mood. But at this point of the battle, this nuisance was barely any worse than what already happened.

They might be fucked now, but at least the Strikers seemed to handle their situation on their side of the field. If only the support group could hold on just a little longer…

Panic suddenly settled in as the raven-haired Aberration felt something hit her face, soon to be followed by a cutting sensation and the pain the came with it. Reflexively, Angel brought her hands to her face in an attempt to get the webbing out of her face, but as she tugged on the wires, the tightening web only sliced deeper into her skin, through the rubber material of her right glove and even caused slight cuts on the girl’s left naked hand.

It took mental effort for the young woman to not scream out of panic, afraid to let out a sonic wave that would hit her teammate and further pull the web onto her face. The pain was already bad as it was now, she did not want her face to be completely eviscerated by a reckless push.

“H-Help! Get this thing out of my face!”

Angel could only plead for help from her teammates. By now, the screaming Mage was shaking, both from the rage of being so powerless and the fear of death that was petrifying her.

Gulping down some more dryness, Grant pried open his eyes, looking up at the remaining enemies. Luckily, it seems as if some of the Arachnid Metalworks had been dealt with. Unluckily, it wasn’t all of them. Breath in, breath out, Grant’s legs brought him backwards, almost a stumble as he struggled to keep his footing at the ground shook. He had to get his head on straight.

Shaking his head to clear the daze and exhaustion, he let out another breath and examined his surroundings. If the dust from earlier wasn’t enough, here was even more dust covering the area. Coughing and squinting his eyes, he tried to focus. What was going on around him? The spiders, they were...

“H-Help! Get this thing out of my face!”

”Oh shit.” Came from Grant’s mouth, as well as a couple of coughs to clear the dust away. The spider’s net, or probably more accurately, web was now pulling against his teammate’s... Angel’s face, and from her reaction, it wasn’t harmless. Grant’s squinted eyes darted from Angel to the Metalworks that were responsible for the net. Scenarios and plans went through his mind, yet there was no time to think about it too much. Just act.

Grant quickly darted his chains to the net that was right now cutting into Angel’s face, and before it could get any worse or deeper, he made contact with it. His brows narrowed as when he tried to pull the net back, he was only met with pressure... resistance. He could only pry it so much from her face, but there had to be another solution. At this rate, he’ll only just end up collapsing without being able to help.

Think, think, plan, plan. His eyes narrowed with his brows before he focused. The net, against Angel’s face, began to thicken, losing its sharp and cutting capabilities, and quickly after it wasn’t a threat to her face, the chains did their work. Splitting the net into two, letting the force of the Spider’s pull slide it away from Angel’s face. After the net halves left her face, he forced them down onto the ground. Focus, focus... that he did, making the net and the ground merge into one, disabling it.

He took in a breath after realizing he had been holding it, and out of instinct he let his voice out. ”Deal with those remaining spiders!!” He’d order out in a shout through the dust.

Up above, the flying snake was being torn apart by Chris’s flames and claws, the red lasers that it shot out striking nothing as the accumulated damage caused it to convulse.

Far off, Factory fell, Sander single handedly smashing his way through the heart of the subnatural. Its body impacted with enough force that the superficially damaged apartment building shook, dust sprinkling on Brent from above, but it held.

Down below, the battle that they should have already won was becoming messier. Observing from the scope once more, Brent couldn’t tell if it was good or bad that mud-man’s abilities were continuing to make the battlefield a quagmire. Hazel’s attack was effective, at least, but the spiders had finally drawn blood. He winced as the web caught onto Angelic’s face, the rock star’s panic and agony clear even at a distance. Smoothly aiming his Desert Eagle, the arbiter was about to begin taking out the spiders when a flurry of noise sounded.

Screams, splatters, and then, the phone squawked to life, asking for information. Eyes scanned over the constantly updating map, spotting the yellow blip that overlapped with Evacuation’s own red dot. Something went wrong with extracting? No response sounded from Marcus, Sophia, Savannah, or Lawrence, and Brent swivelled, keeping low as he brought his scope to look down the road.

“Oh fuck.”

It was easy to find the APC and the site of the attack when fresh blood colored the pavement. Lawrence’s unmoving body laid face-flat, as an unfamiliar trio strode away. Where were the rest? Did Sophs escape? Where they the rogue subnaturals that Kardos had warned them about? Fuck fuck fuck…and the phone! Fuck, the phone showed where everyone was!

“Kardos! The maps displaying on Evac Team’s phones! Shut it down!”

The damage was already done. Those three bastards would have heard Emma’s voice ringing through Lawrence’s phone. They may investigate. And once they found it…it’d be much too easy to figure out where the Healers were.

“Offensive Support, Strikers, Healer Teams, Gregory,” Brent said, excluding Evac from the message, “The APC has been attacked by three subnaturals. One male with olive skin, one female with black hair, and another with blond hair in a ponytail. Necks hidden. Don’t know their powers yet. Don’t message anyone on Evac team. Lawrence is down and the rest are missing.”

He paused, looking at the map. Oh god, Christmas, Ernie, and Zoe were WAY too close to that group. Were there even more subnaturals then, lurking around Wisford? Brent’s brows furrowed. Offensive Support couldn’t spare anyone, not now. Sander was chasing down a different ‘scent’. Chris was still duelling the snake up there, the construct that persisted even after its creator fell. Which meant…

“Callan, can you hear me? Go into town. Factory’s down, but we have possibly even more enemy subnaturals in Wisford. We’ll need your help.”

The arbiter let out a deep breath, glad for once that he couldn’t smell anything other than filtered, rubbery air.

The Desert Eagle gleamed, and then exploded once more, retaking its white-with-purple-lines form.

---

---

“Christmas, is there a particular reason why you’re getting closer to the frontlines?”

Oh, was Brent mad at them? Knowing that the blond's difficulties with doing anything coherent without blanking out, Ernie took the radio and answered for the team. "Sorry, old location got compr-- uh, it's not safe anymore. The mage was hiding a mic and--"

His train of thought was derailed by a sudden transmission. Strange voices, strange noises, and... was that screaming he could hear on the other side? Emma didn't seem to know the source so it wasn't from the support team. And there was too much screaming to consist of a three-person healer team, strike team or one of the snipers. The only team left that was travelling with a large number of people was Evac and...

Ernie blanched. They were the ones who had David. And if it was them who was screaming... What was happening? He cast a brief glance at Zoe before talking into the radio.

"Evac, what's the situation with the mage? Evac, can you hear me?"

"...and Brent would have a clearer view if we get into trouble again."

Remembering his own words, Ernie thumbed through the channels and switched to the amethyst-eyed sniper's.

"Brent, what's going on?"

Zoe had reached much the same conclusion - this had to be connected to David in one way or another. Had they missed a tracker when they searched? Another mic? Either way, this was on them. They should've killed him when they had the chance, and now Evac were paying for their mistakes. But out of everything, there was one thing that stuck out.

Why are they screaming?

They were supposed to be calm. If things weren't calm, there was every chance that Lawrence was in trouble. And it was her fault, coming off the back of her decisions. She wasn't sure if she considered him a friend, but... He'd helped her, given her a chance when she probably didn't deserve one, and now she might have gotten him killed. She'd stopped moving, fists clenched tight and an expression mirroring that of a rabid dog. Panicked, angry, and viciously afraid.

Not again. She couldn't do this again.

"I'm going out there."

“Offensive Support, Strikers, Healer Teams, Gregory. The APC has been attacked by three subnaturals. One male with olive skin, one female with black hair, and another with blond hair in a ponytail. Necks hidden. Don’t know their powers yet. Don’t message anyone on Evac team. Lawrence is down and the rest are missing.”

Three subnaturals with necks hidden. Aberrations. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. They must've come after David. Now one of their classmates was down and Marcus was badly outnumbered by what Ernie presumed were experienced mage agents. The long-haired aberration grit his teeth. He should have poured drain cleaner down that fucker's throat instead.

"There are three of them, you can't go out there!" he grabbed Zoe by the wrist but let go after remembering her ability. He opted to keep a firm grip on her covered shoulder instead.

Brent's voice sounded from over the radio. "Ernie, Zoe, Christmas, head northwest, away from my building."

"Healer comes first," Ernie insisted furiously, concurring with the tech mage's orders.

Zoe shrugged off Ernie's hand, her voice shaking with barely-restrained anger. This was irrational, and she knew that, to an extent, but that didn't change her priorities. "Then take Christmas and start walking. I'm no healer."

Events seemed to prefer simultaneous starts, at least from Christmas's limited perspective. No sooner had they wordlessly resolved to put David behind them both figuratively and literally than the sudden buzz of radio static sounded from apparently multiple speakers.

First it was one of their teammates, asking him in particular why the group moved as they did (and Christmas had come up short for an acceptable answer, anyway), then it was the ominous transmission from another group that sent only screams and muted noises through the speakers. And that prompted even more responses from others, asking the inevitable questions of "What."

He couldn't juggle this mentally. It was hard enough just thinking about where he should and shouldn't be on the battlefield, especially now when they didn't have the relative certainty of assigned locations. Trying to process it all at once was a huge mistake and Christmas felt that old panic rear its head against his heart and nerves.

Zoe and Ernie were saying something, and the tones of their voices were harsh. Biting. But he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here. It had been simpler to let them make the calls, but now they and someone else on the radio were arguing. Meanwhile distant screams petered from all of their cuffs, echoing and replicating the sounds threefold.

He thought it sounded a bit like the white noise in his head.

"...U-uh..." he managed, the sound preluding a series of half-thoughts he didn't know how to piece together and voice.

Losing your goddamn minds like you did today will get them killed.

Prioritize your objectives.

Criticisms from a half-skimmed pile of evaluation papers swam around in Ernie's head. The objective was here. Healers as powerful as Christmas were a one-in-a-billion find. He couldn't fall into the hands of an Aberration faction. The objective was here and he couldn't have Zoe endangering that.

They had to stay back here. Because back here was safe.

Ernie's eyes widened at that thought. 'Safe'? He hadn't been thinking about Christmas at all. It was all for himself. Just like it always was. Even when a comrade, a friend, was facing certain death, Ernie was only looking out for his own hide. Marcus had stuck by him even after finding out how awful he really was. He'd scolded and advised him. He was a friend.

But as amazing and right as he was, he couldn't make Ernie a better person. Friendship had no meaning here in a warzone.

A golden noose shot from his hand and wrapped around Zoe's neck. Christmas was of no help here. It was up to him to make sure the team stayed together. Even if it meant dooming Marcus. Even if it meant he'd lose yet another person he cared about. Even if it meant that he would stay selfish.

"I'm sorry," Ernie murmured, looking sullen, "You can't go."

"It's not your choice to make. Let me go, Ernie." Zoe's voice was cold with rage, the redhead forcing herself to keep it level as she glared at the other aberration, but there was a note of something else underneath. Something akin to desperation.

Not again.

She was meant to stop this, to stop people from hurting them. That was why she'd made her choice in the first place-- So what use was she if she couldn't even do that? Every time someone tried to help her, she just had to go and fuck it up, leave them worse off than before.

After a few seconds of pulling at the rope, she began to realise it was hopeless to try and break it - At least without seriously hurting Ernie. And with his durability, holding back wouldn't be an option, so she couldn't afford to try. She tried to pull on the rope and unbalance him, but the guy was immovable. There was no way for her to run with the rope tight around her neck. No way out. Trapped.

No. No, this wasn't supposed to--

Her voice finally cracked. "Ernie, please."

He shook his head silently, ruefully. Selfish. Stupid.

"Christmas is..." he struggled to not choke on his rationale, "one of the strongest healers I've ever known. We can't let those Aberrations have him."

One good reason.

"Cal and Angel and Emma. All our classmates. They're important too. What if they need us and we're not there?"

Another solid point. So many valid excuses for this retreat, so logical and effective. Ernie wished that they could outweigh his own cowardly justification.

"Zoe, do you understand?"

Zoe was silent for a long moment.

Of course she understood. She knew it made sense, that it was rational and sensible to retreat. But it didn't make her feel better. The others were so far away, and... Fighting was the only thing she knew how to do, really. They needed Christmas to live, they didn't need her to run away so that could happen.

"I just don't see what difference I make." Zoe spoke almost inaudibly, weakly protesting the statements. Despite her arguments she wasn't looking at either of the others, shoulders slumped as she looked down at the floor. She wasn't winning here at any rate, and it was clear that the girl knew that to an extent.

It almost hurt to see her look so defeated. Almost.

"Throwing your life away won't make any difference either," he said quietly.

The rope returned to its loose state, releasing its hold on Zoe. He still had a bit less than twenty minutes left, and if she tried to run again he could easily leash her. Hopefully the whole thing will have blown over by the time his rope time ran out. Cal will have responded to Brent's call for help and the Evac team would get out with minimal casualties. Hopefully. A guy could dream.

"Cal's making her way over now," Ernie offered, "We'll go back to them as soon as it's clear. But for now we need to hang back."

"We both know that could be too late." Zoe nodded halfheartedly as the rope disappeared from her neck, rubbing her throat absentmindedly. This hadn't gone the way she'd hoped. None of it had, really-- Everything had just fallen apart when it got the chance, and a lot of it was on them. No, a lot of it was on her. At least until now, most of it had been her decision.

Forcing herself to at least appear composed, she sighed, sounding almost too exhausted to bother arguing anymore. "If we're going... then let's just go, okay?"

Ernie scratched his head tiredly and nodded, keeping the rope on just in case. What a mess. One hand ushered his teammates north while the other raised the radio to his mouth.

"Brent. Heading to the location now."

Subdued after his failed attempt to say anything cohesive, Christmas bit his lower lip and followed Ernie, trying to put aside his self-deprecating thoughts until a better moment. He stared at the moving feet in front of him instead, counting the steps and letting his mind linger on simple numbers so it wouldn't find out that he had been--and still was--entirely useless. Far more than anyone here.

Oblivious to all the drama, Brent's voice sounded through the radio once more. "That's good. Get as much distance as you can from my location, cause it's gonna be attracting attention very soon."

---

---

---

---

Callan fell into another coughing fit as she pushed herself back to her feet again. The dirt in the air aggravated the burning in her lungs, more droplets of blood accumulating in the palm of her hand as she tried to get it under control.

Through the clearing of dust, she could see Sander and the orb in the distance.

“I… killed it." His voice came through her communicator. She enjoyed a brief moment of relief before the message kept going. "I will… kill the next one.”

What? She watched as Sander turned towards her, breaking into a sprint. At the same time, she heard a muffled sound. It seemed to be coming from inside the mine. She wasn't given much time to investigate as her transmitter came to life again. She looked to the device on her ankle, as if it might provide some answers. The only discernible sound that she could make out... was screaming. Who--

Before the gears could turn enough for her to put two and two together, Brent's voice came through her transmitter with a message that caused her hair to stand on end.

“Offensive Support, Strikers, Healer Teams, Gregory,” Brent said, excluding Evac from the message, “The APC has been attacked by three subnaturals. One male with olive skin, one female with black hair, and another with blond hair in a ponytail. Necks hidden. Don’t know their powers yet. Don’t message anyone on Evac team. Lawrence is down and the rest are missing.”

Evac team.

Marcus.

She immediately turned away from the mine and looked towards the town. Lawrence was down? Did... did that mean he was dead? Several thoughts raced through her mind at once, most focused on trying to decide what to do. She felt an immense sadness at the news, but panic and a strong desire to do something overpowered everything else in that moment. Lawrence was supposed to be the most seasoned out of their group. If he'd been taken out, then Marcus and the others were in real danger.

“Callan, can you hear me? Go into town. Factory’s down, but we have possibly even more enemy subnaturals in Wisford. We’ll need your help.”

The word 'go' was all she needed to finally make up her mind, though her brain still felt like a mare's nest of thoughts as she moved forward, racing past Sander without so much as a word.

Where? Where were they? She didn't have her map. She couldn't stop and ask Brent using her cuff-- the people attacking Marcus would hear. The burning in her lungs returned as she sprinted past the offensive support group and into town. Gun shots and a pained shout rang out from her transmitter. It didn't sound like Marcus, but it sent her heart racing even faster.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Whoever it was, their misfortune had given her a vague direction at least. She tore through the streets with purpose, the echo of that gunshot still ringing in her ears as she silently prayed the cuff would remain silent until she got there. No more gun shots. No more lives lost. The hulking Collectors and decimated buildings barely registered in her mind as they flew through her peripheral.

Through the tightening web of thin wires, Angélique could feel the pressure and the cuts not only digging through her skin, but also starting to saw through parts of her new pair of shades. Cracks had started to form where the pressure was most exerted.

Just as she thought she was fucked, a familiar set of chains had appeared on the wires. The attempt at wresting control of the web did not go without pain however. For each of Grant’s effort to pull the web away from the spiders, the clockwork would struggle back to pull it back to them, causing some sort of sawing motion on the obsidian-haired Mage’s face, causing more pain to flare up.

“I-It hurts!”

She yelled with a despair-filled tone. If this kept going, the cutting strings will slice through her skull and cut the poor girl’s head in ribbons. At this point, Angel couldn’t suppress the groans of pain as she felt the webbing sawing inside the skin of her face.

She was just about to scream, let out a last-ditch effort shout to get the strings out of her face when suddenly she felt the wires thickening on her face. While it felt uncomfortable, for the strings were now thicker than the cuts they had made, the ever-growing suffering had stopped getting worse.

When the netting of thin wires had finally snapped and fell off the sonic Aberration’s face, she let out a loud sigh of relief. A twisted smile crept up on her lips as her legs flinched from the pain and the fear, sending the raven-haired young woman on her knees. Her face was a mess. The deep cuts were bleeding all over, painting the ex-rockstar’s skin with streams of red.

As if to try and appease the pain, Angélique brought her two hands to her face, applying light pressure. But all it managed to do was cause more pain and spread blood everywhere and on her hands. The cracked sunglasses gave out under the pressure of the girl’s hands, breaking into pieces to the ground, revealing the bright distressed green eyes underneath.

Fortunately for the girl, at this time of the year, the sun wasn’t as vivid in the evening as during summer time, combined with the gray rainy clouds that were obscuring the sky. The aching in her eyes wasn’t as bad as it would’ve been in the afternoon, and didn’t immediately affect her. Thanks to the contact lenses provided by USARILN, her vision was still clear despite having lost her shades. With them gone though, there was nothing hiding the tears that had begun to form into her eyes, slowly trailing down her cheeks now that the day's brightness was reaching for her sensitive eyes.

With the pain not subsiding yet, adding to that the loss of another pair of sunglasses and her injuries flaring, Angel’s wrath was still burning ever so strongly inside her. She wanted the machines to pay for what they did to her.

The sheer strength of will from her anger had dissipated the paralyzing fear that had taken hold of the Aberration’s legs. Slowly, Angélique got up to her feet and faced the spiders’ direction. She walked past Grant, placing herself directly in front of him as he held down the spiders with their own net. She was too deep into her rage to even thank the guy that saved her. At the very least, the only thing she could do to acknowledge his help was to not put him into the range of what she was about to do.

EYE FOR AN EYE!

Taking a deep breath, the Aberration fury let out a series of long-lasting raging screams at the southeastern part of the clockwork army, slamming with full-force into the spiders there and one of the two centipedes’ head. The force applied to her screams were also strong enough to clear the cloud of dust in that area.

With her facial muscles tensing up, more blood trailed down from the gashes on Angel’s face. However, for now, the pain would only fuel her desire to destroy.

Marcus stood by the APC's back door as Lawrence loaded up their current cargo. He was one of the people who gasped in surprise; Halvost Team had done quite a number on the poor guy. His mind flicked to Ernie - the source of Xmas's beaten and bruised face. He wouldn't do this sort of thing without a reason...would he?

For now, he was forced to assume that there was a method to the apparent brutality. Whatever had gone down to leave the captive in this state, Marcus had to think that Ernie was in the right. Still, he couldn't shake the slight sliver of doubt from his mind. Perhaps there'd be questions later.

The ground shuddered underneath them, throwing Marcus slightly off balance as he righted himself. As he held up his hand to protect his eyes from the cloud of dust that billowed over them, he found himself hoping that the tremor signaled something good for their little group.

The next series of actions happened so quickly. The new survivors, the 'nothing' behind Lawrence, and the immediate ambush. He stared wide-eyed at Lawrence as he rose into the air, his brain beginning to piece together the situation.

As suddenly as the realization hit him, a spike of asphalt jutted into Lawrence's body. His own mind recoiled, ears becoming deaf to the sounds of the passengers screaming. From his position behind Lawrence, he could see that the damage was bad. If he wasn't dead yet, Lawrence probably would be soon, unless he helped.

But he couldn't help. There were three subnaturals facing them - no way they could stand up to that kind of enemy by themselves. Trying to help their fallen teammate was basically suicide at this point. Not only suicide for themselves, but the death of all the passengers in the APC. They had to leave him behind.

He couldn't help Lawrence when the dog jumped him, and he couldn't help him now either.

Whipping the pistol from his belt, Marcus took only a brief moment to try and steady his aim, letting off a shot at the closest mage, before diving into the APC, slamming the doors behind him. The black haired girl tried to duck the shot, but swore loudly as the bullet grazed her shoulder.

"GO!" Marcus shouted, the panic in his voice clearly evident. Yet, even as he shouted the order, he could see the driver rushing around the side of the vehicle.

No, no, no no. This was bad. They were stuck. What he had thought was protection was actually just them locking themselves in a trap. Their only way out of this was if the driver heard him after he launched over the bench and began pounding on the window.

But it was too late. The soldier leveled his rifle at the trio as he came around the corner and spotted Lawrence's prone position. He immediately bent his knees and took a step back-- prepared to use the truck as cover. Through the window, Marcus could only watch as a metal spike shot out from the side of the APC, piercing straight through his Kevlar vest. Pinned in place, he lifted his head in agony and gave a wet shout just before the young Middle Eastern man fired a round into soldier's face.

"Jesus," Dean growled through his teeth. Lauren gripped his arm tightly, her complexion pale like most of the others in the trucks.

"What are we gonna do?" the brown eyed girl looked to Marcus with exasperation, "We're sitting ducks in here!"

Throughout the arrival of the trio and their attack on Lawrence and the driver, Sophia remained motionless in her seat. Only a gasp escaped her when Lawrence was lifted up into the air, the rest of the time she remained tense with eyes wide, gaze darting from place to place as she realized they had no where to go. She didn't need to see the faces of the people around her or the blood to understand what was happening, and her imagination filled in the parts she could not see.

It filled in what she could not see too well, in too much detail. A faint ringing had begun in her ears when Lawrence went down, getting louder as her heartbeat quickened when the soldier was killed. Killed. Who could have survived that?

She didn't want to see the motionless bodies of the two men for any longer. Bending over and resting her forearms on her legs, she put her head between her shaking hands. Attempts at taking deep breaths soon followed as she tried unsuccessfully to stop her heart and mind from racing.

His blood ran cold as the metal from the APC shot through the driver like he was made of butter. When his head exploded, Marcus looked sharply to the ground, his body growing shakey. His mind raced, trying to come up with some sort of plan. But there was none; at least, none that ended well for him or the occupants of the vehicle.

There was one thing he could do...but...

A soft sigh. Preparation for the inevitable.

He turned to the man with the shotgun, holding his hand out expectantly. "I've got a plan, but I need your gun." he said, his fearful words becoming forceful.

"As soon as that door opens, I'll take out whoever's there and try to get the other two. I might be able to keep their attention on me for a little bit. Someone needs to hop out and get into the driver's seat to get you guys out of here."

"That's it?" the one eyed man queried as the man in the green hat handed over his shotgun with a curt nod.

"Don't you have a superpower or something?" the girl pressed.

"Don't pressure the boy," the older man cut in, getting up from his seat as he drew his pistol. "I'll help. I may look old, but I'm a good shot," he insisted, "Dean-- you're probably the quickest one here."

The man didn't seem too happy with the plan, but nodded nonetheless. He quickly moved towards the doors, waiting behind Marcus and the old man.

The voices of Marcus and the people around her seemed distant, but nevertheless Sophia caught the plan. What was supposed to be a good and working plan but probably was not. Listening to the people get in position, she couldn't help but lift her head up and shift so she could see where they were waiting. As much as she didn't want to see... at the same time she needed to see what was going to happen. It was scary not to know what was happening.

Be careful. Useless wishes. How could one be careful and stay safe in this situation? She wasn't doing anything to help either.

Marcus sighed. It wasn't a perfect plan. It wasn't even a good plan. But it was all they had left. He'd messed up time and time again, and had backed themselves into a corner. Maybe if he'd done something about the dog, Lawrence would have had enough alloy to not get speared. Maybe if he'd done anything other than jump back in the APC, they'd already be gone.

He had a superpower, the only reason he might get to see tomorrow if this all played out well. The only one he could protect was himself. He gave the old man a thankful nod, checking the shotgun and readying himself. A mournful glance to Savanna and Sophia that said more than he could.

His finger nervously shook as he held it near the trigger, aiming at the doors.

One thing he could do...but...he'd felt this feeling before. A sinking feeling of despair in his gut.

He wasn't ready.