"The APC has been attacked by three subnaturals."

Emma froze. It was amazing how quickly everything fell apart. Grant released Angel from the spider's web, but she was clearly injured, her face cut to ribbons.

"Lawrence is down and the rest are missing.”

She hardly knew Lawrence, but he was her roommate. He had listened to her problems- problems which she'd never really told anyone. He'd given her advice. He'd made her feel at ease.

"Callan, can you hear me? Go into town."

Of course, it was Callan that Brent would send. She was strong. She was trustworthy. Emma needed to be here. Callan would be there for him, like she always was. Not Emma.

Marcus.

What would Emma do if he died? Who even was he to her? It was true, Emma didn't really know him. Not really. Not in the way someone should know people that they have strong feelings for. Not in the way that she had known Riley. Not in the way she'd known the others she'd tricked into loving her, those that she had convinced herself into thinking she loved.

But you care about him.

One voice said.

You don't even like him. He's not the one you really love.

Came another.

One thing was certain: Emma wanted to be there. There to protect him, there to make sure he wouldn't die. It should be her, not Callan, that would save him. For a moment nothing else mattered- not Hazel or Siena, certainly not Angel or Grant, not their mission- Factory was dead, after all, they didn't need her, did they? They could finish things here.

Fuck the mission.

She shook her head. She couldn't abandon them in the middle of a fight- what kind of teammate would that make her? What would everyone think of her? The others, those fighting with her mattered too. Their lives meant as much as Marcus's. She had an obligation to fight with them, she was powerful, wasn't she? She mattered. They'd be weaker without her. The might get wounded, or worse yet die.

That's what made it hurt even more when Determination crumbled away. Not to her avail, but by way of her power... or lack thereof. Love wouldn't come, nor Devotion, let alone the others. She was now useless for as long as she was here, as long as she stood there uncertain with her friends dying around her. She couldn't leave, could she? All she could do was stand with mouth agape, an emotional wreck for everyone to see.

Dead weight.

They were leaving.

Good.

She was coming.

Good.

If he failed, Callan could finish it. Or maybe Marcus, with his instant movement abilities, would be able to blindside those three subnaturals before any more damage was caused? Maybe Sophia could reveal that she had some sort of secret power hidden all along, something beyond merely having magical vision? Or maybe, maybe, Savannah could actually do something.

As cruel as it was, Brent’s grim expression broke out into a genuinely meaningless smile.

Was he that afraid of failure that he had to set up all these safety nets instead of telling his teammates to leave it up to himself? Was he really satisfied with just being the guy who killed a single clockwork canine after it had already been immobilized by Angelic? His grip tightened, his knuckles creaking, burning through excess energy. Far down the road, the soldier had been the next to bite the bullet, impaled by a metal spike before being shot in the face by the olive-skinned man. Amethyst eyes flickered as Brent caught that glimmer of magic, originating from the blonde ponytail girl. Almost too small to be noticed, until it had disappeared.

So that was her magic.

Thank god.

He closed his eyes, let out a breath, and allowed his power to flow once more. The Desert Eagle creaked, evolving a second time, glowing a hot angry orange that threatened burn his skin as a burning gale encircled the object, wisps of it blowing in his face and causing him to squint. The object was practically squirming within his grasp, an inorganic weapon brought to life by silver blood as its parts creaked irregularly.

But, as always, before it fully escaped him, the Desert Eagle settled down, a light blue glow humming over its surface. Replacing the scope was a holographic projector, displaying a blown-up display of the trio as they stood before the APC. In his hands, the jet-black gun, barrel elevated slightly, swiveled, revealing that the trigger was no longer attached to the barrel. Like a camera, it swayed from side to side slowly.

The improvement was accuracy. The function was the ability to have a machine lock on and automatically center itself onto its targets. The projectile was an energy beam that cared not for environmental conditions.

His spare finger pressed against the holographic display, holding on until the crosshair graphics turned from red to green, indicating that the machine had locked on. One by one, he selected his targets and dictated the order in which the machine would pursue them. This was going to be simple. This was going to be easy. They didn’t know he existed, he could accurately shoot them down without thinking about aiming, and if they were human, they should definitely die.

He won't fail. Won't miss. Won't think.

Breat-

No meditation necessary.

A callused finger pressed against the trigger and pulled.

Once.

No recoil.

Twice.

No remorse.

Thrice.

No response.

Hazel Baker

Being on the elevated position that she was in, it was easy to see the cloud of dust and shield herself from any fast moving bits coming her way.

Was the main target taken down already? If so, it would not be too long before new orders came in. Then that just leaves these small fries wallowing in the mud to deal with. Speaking of which, she had realized it was idiotic to even try manifesting weapons with these sort of monsters; a mere touch would disintegrate them as readily as any projected weapon would.

Facing the other direction of where Angel was screaming, she simply swept a giant projected hand across the ring of enemies, disintegrating completely the rest of the surviving spiders.

---

---

It had appeared that Factory had been defeated. However three enemy subnaturals now revealed themselves at evac team, if the voices from the cuff fused with his leg was correct. All the while the serpent was still moving despite all the damage it had taking. The thought of three individuals with unknown powers had Chris worried over evac team. Whoever they were, these strangers had their own motives and intelligence apart from these damned monsters. He had to go assist as soon as possible, but this construct wasn't going to let him go after a blow like that.

His priority was the serpent construct. Determined to defeat the construct, and knowing that time was critical, Chris abandoned any sense of patience or safe strategy. Instead, the dragon returned a fierce roar as he flew directly towards the serpent, head drawn down so that his horns were facing front. He intended to dive straight in and strike the head of the metal snake directly with hope that he'd be successful with little injury.

Screaming. Pain. Head hurt.

Are you alright?

Siena was far from it. She was tired. Her body ached from the impact from the mechanical hound. Her head hurt. Her ears hurt. Her shoulders hurt--an odd feeling of levity on the side that she'd been swept by--and worst of all, the white noise was starting to spiral out of control. One frustration after another, each one chipping a fraction more of the control that Siena craved so desperately. Control over her life. Control over her powers.

Control over those around you?

'Stop.'

She pushed herself to her feet, head still swimming, blood pounding in her ears, both sharpening her hearing and simultaneously deafening the world outside. Marcus in danger, gunshots. Sludge gone. A distant thought in the back of her head wondering whether Emma was fine tried to make itself known, but was quickly quelled by the rationalization setting in. Unidentified subnaturals were present. Perhaps they were in league with the late Factory, but the concept boiled down to a single thought.

Human opponents.

No, it was different, wasn't it? Killing a mindless monster and killing a human was different, right? Different. The word chanted over and over again in the back of her head. Different. Different, different, different. As if repeating the mantra could pull her out of the sea that threatened to drown her. As if saying it would negate the fact that she was reaching for the phone that had escaped from her into the sludge earlier on. As if it would negate the fact that she was reaching across her body to remove whatever might still be salvaged and legible.

'If they push you around, you show your fuckin' teeth!'

The arcane circle flared to life around her, a pool of hickory trying to overtake her eyes before suddenly being overwhelmed by a surge of steely grey. It felt different, her control slipping in favor of raw power. Hank for durability. Shizuri for power. The brunette turned her attention to the remaining centipede--the larger threat at the moment.

Take out the enemies before her, then focus on the other threats. The others would have to hold out on their own.

Two orbs formed--'Lower power. Too close to use it fully.'--and with careful aim, Siena fired both off in quick succession towards the centipede, cringing when the backlash of energy still managed to split the skin of her palm and wrist deep enough to draw blood despite Hank's physical durability.

---

Kusari flinched as the ground shook and a loud crash was heard in the distance. A cloud of dust and light debris blanketed the air, causing her to shield her eyes. "Was that?..." She resisted the urge to run outside of the diner and check for herself. Her cuff lit up as someone opened transmission, she anxiously waited for a message, but all she heard was unintelligible ambient noise. Eventually she did hear someone speak, Sander. He told them he... killed it? She had to assume he meant Factory, it certainly was large enough to cause that impact.

Kusari's eyes widened, she almost felt like celebrating. However, their job wasn't finished. There were still monsters in the town, there were still people that needed to be evacuated. Things were going well for once, but that only made her even more anxious. Perhaps that is why as Brent conveyed the status of the evacuation team the message hit her hard. "Huh?" She said, forgetting that she hadn't said 'transmit.' "What happened? All of a sudden- what do you mean Lawrence is down?" Her body shook with frustration, it was happening again. She knew someone was going to die, she just knew it. She took out her phone and checked on the location of the other medic team. They were moving away from the APC?

They were running away. Was that the smart thing to do? Was it just them following their orders? Sitting here and waiting was driving her up the wall. She turned towards Lily and Allison. "We have to go help them, that's what we're here for isn't it?"

"Yea." Allison didn't have to think too hard to come to a decision. She wasn't going to just let people die, and numbing her stigma was a tempting motivation. "Let's go." Allison quickly rose from her seat.

Lily nodded silently, getting to her feet and following suit.

"Alright! Let's hurry an-" Kusari tripped over her tentacle as she sprinted towards the diner entrance. She grumbled as she stood up. She needed to get used to this thing right away if she was going to be of any help. It was surprisingly easy to move now that she tried, she figured it's weight would be a problem but it was just as easy to move as a normal arm. Coiling the lengthy limb she made her way outside. She heard something stomping it's way towards them, now that she thought about it, one of the collector's was heading their way on the map, wasn't it? She looked down the street, and sure enough, there it was In hindsight, this was a highly avoidable encounter.

It was a disgusting machine for sure, she knew what it had been doing to the townspeople, but to see it for herself in person was something else. Poor civilians had been jammed inside of the monster, some of them were still alive. She almost wanted to vomit. She shook her head and grabbed her breaching hammer. "Allison, we don't have time for this, think we can deal with this quickly?" She said, moving the hammer near the end of her tentacle. With this she had range and power, fairly simple but she thought it would work. "I'll attack it first and try to get it's attention, you try to take out it's legs as fast as you can, once it's down we keep moving."

"Alright." Allison flexed her right hand slightly, itching to summon the shard.

Seeing Allison's acknowledgement, Kusari sprinted towards the colossal monster. Her pace was uneven for a moment, but she quickly adjusted her left limb to balance her pace. The monster's limbs were long, so she stopped short once she felt it was just in range. She spun her body, swinging her tentacle as hard as she could. She let out a fierce yell as the hammer swung towards the construct's head with the speed of a whip tied to an out of control carousel.

Without even thinking about it, Allison rushed in to follow up Kusari's attack. It was a sort of primal need that seemed to propel her forward, before thoughtlessly summoning the ephemeral blade, and wildly cutting through the machine, starting at it's legs.

Gregory Irving

---

---

Peering into the building, Gregory quickly sighed in relief at the clean conditions within. That wasn’t to say the place wasn’t trashed, but at least there weren’t blood splatters and signs of a desperate struggle within. He glanced towards the map again, studying the movements it displayed before he flicked out the baton and stepped inside. Pausing after a few steps as Brent’s voice cut through the silence, he restudied the map as the other student spoke, but ultimately dismissed it as something that he couldn’t be concerned about. There were other groups closer, and he’d just wind up as another casualty if he decided to head over there.

Putting aside any plans of rummaging through the building for the moment, Gregory made his way up to the building’s top floor before finding a window he could use to clamber up onto the roof. The apartment building probably would have worked better for this, but he had a feeling Brent wouldn’t have appreciated his presence there. With a shake of his head, he clipped both baton and phone back onto his belt before finding something to tie another bundle of rope to, forcing the window fully open, and then hopping out for the roof top.

---

---

---

With the net rendered useless and the spiders gone, nothing impeded Siena's attack as it tore through the nearest centipede's head, sending spasms down the creature's body and finally rendering it immobile.

Angel's scream pushed the dead creatures backwards into the centipede circling on the outer ring and the remaining sweep of Hazel's hand disintegrated over half of its body, leaving just a twitching tail length behind.

A burst of white light from nearby blasted a wide path through the small dirt hill that had buried Ethan and Genevieve during Factory's fall and the two of them clambered slowly out of the ring-shaped patch of smooth earth that had been the effect of the barrier preventing the worst of the dust storm from reaching them. As Genevieve complained about the bits of soil in her hair, Ethan looked towards the fallen form of Factory, noting as his gaze swept over them the fallen clockworks nearby.

As if Factory's fall and the partial destruction of the subnatural inside the core had signaled the end of the fighting's worst, the remaining creatures seemed to lose the single-minded purpose they had prior.

The collector nearest the offensive support team jerked suddenly, its movements faltering into repetitive motions with its outstretched hands while the lights on its face blinked sporadically. With a modicum more autonomy than its peers, the construct limped and hobbled on legs that no longer moved in tandem, the inside chamber of its body breaking apart with the loss of vital administrative functions that had set and maintained the inner segmentation of its body.

The weak screams and pained groans from inside its form ceased rapidly after a brief burst of muffled crackling and watery noises.

The three dogs that had shaken themselves free from the impromptu burial in debris collapsed as well once their legs refused to move in any useful pattern, sliding along the ground almost pitifully before several shots of light vaporized the majority of their bodies, leaving behind the scorched remains of their densest parts.

Only the sky serpent remained actively fighting, meeting Chris's charge head-on with an open maw, swallowing the dragon whole just as the last of the subnatural's fine control on his clockworks dissolved into mindless static that barely held together independent function.

The change was immediate.

Every scale on the snake's body spasmed, displacing and realigning rapidly in no apparent order, revealing the minute construction of its inner workings where strange gears and cogs whirred and spun beyond their proper speed, some breaking and others snapping off their places, flying outwards as its body spat up parts in the malfunction. The systems holding it aloft failed and basic movement mechanisms ground to a stuttering halt. With Chris clamped in its jaw, the massive creature crashed to the ground, its body sprawling out across the ridged hill of Wisford and the spasming Factory.

Beside the toppled behemoth's chest lay the large sphere missing a ragged chunk as if someone had taken multiple bites from it. There was little human left in the vaguely humanoid shape that was almost enmeshed into the metal with only its torso visible, and the black strands of liquid that pooled from the missing head could hardly be called blood.

Nearby, a broken cranium had been thrown carelessly aside, the back and sides of the metallic skull crushed by two hand-shaped gouges. A face had been in the process of merging with metal, the front of it separated from the head by careful metallic wiring and joints as the power worked to replace every organic part with alloys.

Now the thin plating of the face lay looking upwards besides the rest of its head, one eye already mechanized and broken off in the struggle.

But the rest of the person it used to be was still recognizable in the glassy glaze of the dead eye staring into the last vestiges of dusk.

Aaron.

Ethan watched the large construct's uncoordinated movements a moment longer before coughing and spitting out some of the dust in his mouth. Eventually, he turned towards the group of combatants nearby, walking over slowly with Genevieve. Several of them he recognized from the fight near the Institute's grounds and he really should have pinned more faces to his memory when the rest also seemed familiar.

"We'll go have a look," he spoke between heavy breaths, gesturing at the fallen clockwork titan. "You guys can head back to the drop-off point. ...Good work."

In the distance, the roving, jittering collector caught his eye and he pointed at the teetering creature.

"Can I leave mopping up to you guys?"

---

While Marcus, Dean, and the old man got into position, the opposing trio approached the back doors. Inside the APC, the girl with black hair silently stood from her seat amidst the other passengers. Facing their backs, she gripped her scarf tightly while holding it over her nose. Beneath the fabric, a rapturous smile blossomed as her features slowly distorted. The changes were small and subtle at first. Easy to miss. Before the doors swung open, however, a chorus of staccato shouts served as the only warning for the pandemonioum that was to come.

Two large, sturdy bat-like wings sprang from the girl's back, roughly slamming the nearby survivors against the inner wall of the vehicle. She now possessed sharp claws where fingers should be as well as talons for feet, which were used to grab Savannah's leg just before she launched herself towards the half open doors, bowling over those stationed beside them. Dean, who was already out of the line of fire, pressed himself up against wall and avoided the charge.

Anticipating their comrade, the trio of aberrations had quickly backed away from the doors upon opening them. They were sure to give the winged girl plenty of girth as she knocked Marcus and the old man clear out of the APC, sharply dragging a screaming Savannah along the way.

The perfectly aimed beams from Brent were, in that moment, obscured by her passing as she flew out of the doors. Three smoking black marks upon the tough webbing that made up the girl's wings seemed to be the only evidence of his hard work. She came to a stop, spreading her wings to block Brent from any addition shots directed at her allies while she pinned Savannah's torso to the ground with the claws of her feet. Savannah kicked frantically, pulling at the heavy claws on either side of her neck and shoulders in vain. The girl turned a pair of yellow cat-like eyes in Brent's direction with an aggravated expression marring her already distorted features.

Between a pair of large, pointed ears, two black horns protruded from the girl's forehead. Her nose had shortened and scrunched between her eyes, forming a knot of angry wrinkles where her brows met. Elevated cheekbones as well as the upper lip set her mouth into a permanent snarl that revealed a set of sharp fangs. A large, powerful reptilian tail extended from beneath the back of her black petticoat. In a sweeping motion, she swung it towards the downed time mage, aiming to knock the shotgun away.

The older looking aberration with black hair gestured towards the them, her hand glowing yellow as debris and bodies alike began to float. The gargoyle girl dug her claws into the dirt to keep herself from floating away, though her hair and the loose ends of her clothing moved weightlessly about her person.

---

Kusari’s attack managed to halt the collector. The breaching hammer, propelled by the unnatural strength of her monster limb, connected with the massive creature’s head, creating a huge dent on the smooth surface dotted with the thin grooves of its red eyes. Right at that moment, Allison went in with her blade, the magic slicing off the two front legs with ease. With only its two hind legs left, the creature stumbled, but its arms were still reaching out toward the mages.

Then the connection from its creator dimmed to a flicker.

Abruptly, the grasping arms went limp and crashed into the ground with the front half of its body, throwing up dust and debris. Its remaining legs still moved jerkily, as if trapped in some sort of twisted momentum. Slowly, the creature pushed itself along the broken ground, still heading toward the mages. As it moved, the hatch on the front of its torso went lax, blood and bodies spilling out to litter the ground, marking the creature’s trail in vivid red and choked gasps from people who had barely survived.

Near the other healer team, the other collector wes exhibiting the same pattern of movement: its limbs spasmed and jerked, sending it slamming into a nearby wall. The collision left the creature with a deformed head, the lights on its head sporting cracks. Yet, it repeated the motion, pounding against the wall again and again, until the surface broke before its weight. Free of any obstacle in its path, the creature charged forward, moving head first into another wall.

To the far right of town, another collector was stumbling about, its failing limbs dead weight as it weaved back and forth between the buildings.

---

---

---

Sander did not have a name for this scent. He knew it, he remembered from before. Something sweet yet strong, a sharpness to its taste. Complex.

But he couldn’t remember the name.

No matter. He just needed to know where it led.

The mine shaft was dimmed, but his enhanced sight allowed him limited vision. The path before him was blocked though, walls of metal completely obscured the way. Even then, he knew the scent was behind it. The heart beat was so close.

Without hesitation, Sander slammed both of his arms against the metal surface, using the momentum from his sprint to put even more force behind the blows.

The thudding of impervious flesh against thick metal startled Dylan, standing behind two layers of the hypercondensed metal his power afforded. He tried to tell himself it was more dirt hitting the alloy, but that was wishful thinking to an extreme, especially when the sound rang out again to the rhythm of anger and manic strength.

He hadn't been paying attention to the wave of dust that rolled into the mines, preferring instead to not let the structure immediately around him cave in from the fallen titan's collapse. The slamming didn't lessen in volume--in fact, it sounded like the attacks were growing more frequent.

Probably the supergirl he had seen earlier. He knew shouldn't have been so loud, but he really hadn't wanted the nearby metal to fold inward.

Sparing what he could, Dylan pressed his hands against the layered walls in front of him, pushing the metal on the other side around the assailant and hoping to stop them if not catch them in a steel alloy prison.

With the walls on either side of him closing in, Sander slammed his entire weight against the one on his right, getting it out of his way.

The material, strong though it was, didn't stand up to the blood mage's strength and warped backwards easily. On the other side of the wall, Dylan felt the force surpass his slow control of the metal and backed away, the grasping walls of steel halting their progress.

Super strength and he hadn't prepared enough for it.

Throwing as many jutting beams and partitions behind him as possible, he scrambled further into the tunnel as roving white runes began spiraling down the length of the corridor. Their watcher's eyes, and Dylan knew Nasrin's call before he even truly thought about it: she'd be leaving first with Galen and a select few through a different passageway. He would be fending for himself.

Swearing under his breath, he hooked around the nearest corner, hoping to lose his pursuer in the maze of metal.

Meanwhile, Sander had finished dealing with the metal walls on either of his sides, and once he did, he started on the obstacle still standing in his way. It gave, soon enough, crude metal parted around his arm as he tore through.

The scent was moving. The chase was on.

Sander broke into a mad sprint, smashing through whatever flimsy hindrance the metal mage had thrown his way.

Footsteps approached him far too quickly and Dylan couldn't outpace them. Of course super strength came with super speed. How had he even hoped otherwise? Another desperate surge of metal slid into walls behind him as he ran, the material thickening far too slowly. He wasn't a damn fighter. Had never been. They just kept him fed and safe from sanctioned imprisonment so long as he fortified and maintained this particular cell's hideout. A bit of mental tugging from Linus and his metal remained permanently once generated, but that had come at the cost of his manipulation speed and now he sorely regretted tampering with his original ability.

It had felt wrong from the get-go.

"Wait! Wait!" he shouted, hoping the ever-closing footsteps would hear him before inhuman strength tore him limb from limb. The mage running after him didn't even seem to slow down, and Dylan had been hoping for the disorientation of darkness and unfamiliar paths to further his escape. In vain.

The walls were growing thin, the material broke easily beneath his grip. His prey was growing tired. Sander knew this, just as he knew the frantic heartbeats that were getting closer. A few moments more, and its life blood would be his. He bared his teeth in participation.

No. Focus.

“Transmit.” -Sander managed, the words slightly mangled as he fought the stiffness in his jaws –“No…cuff. Doesn’t have…a cuff.” -He said to his shackle. A chained dog justifying its kill.

Dylan stared at the twin, gleaming red lights in the darkness, cold dread rushing down his spine. He recognized them as eyes when the owner began speaking in a voice like a rabid animal's growl.

No cuff. Right. The USARILN mages were collared. That's how they identified friend from foe.

"Wait! You don't have to kill me! You can--you can bring me back to the research institute, or--or something!"

Sander titled his head for a brief moment, as if he was considering the option. He wasn’t. The fire had shut that line of thought down even before it could begin.

“Over.” -The words left his lips, then Sander surged toward his target, throwing the stranger down on the ground before planting a knee on his stomach. Teeth closed around the rouge mage’s shoulder, crunching down on tendons and bones while Sander pulled on the limb to the sounds of screams and tearing flesh.

A few minutes later, Myla’s voice came through the communication channel.

“Order from up top: If you’re in the mines, retreat!”

Even when Sander didn’t recognize the voice, he could still understand the words. The fire cried out for more, but he knew his limits. Anymore, and he wasn’t sure he could hold back. He had to leave. He had to follow orders.

The blood mage began to dash toward the entrance, leaving behind the mutilated corpse.

"Fourth is some bullet-resistant gargoyle, pinning down Savannah."

Emma didn't wait for the last of the creatures to fall. As soon as their victory was assured she turned for the APC's location, hand moving towards the phone Kardos had given them, confirming their position. "I'm going to help the APC." she said quickly to Brent and the others in the Support team. She didn't wait for any sort of confirmation from the others to start running.

Her heart pounded in her chest, not from the exertion of running, but from fear. Now Savannah was in direct danger. Lawrence was down, whatever that meant. Still no word on Marcus. She wasn't sure if she could take it- the death of a little girl, the death of her roommate, the death of Marcus.

Emma stopped suddenly. She had to get there fast, an idea suddenly forming in her head. Determination appeared beside her. Luckily it had seemed that her Tulpas had returned to her, her emotional energy reignited by her desire to save Marcus. Unprompted she grabbed onto the creature, climbing onto it's back. "Run down the street, as fast as you can!" after a moment of consideration the creature did as asked.

If you end up investing everything in the people around you as your foundation instead of yourself, then when they die here it's going to destroy you.

Emma remembered what Lawrence had said to her for the second time today. He was right, she knew. She also knew that she was scared- very scared. It would be the first time that she'd actually fought enemy subnaturals- real people, not monsters.

What she didn't know was if she was more scared for herself or for the others.

Three shots, but there was a fourth.

No reward.

In the same half second that took his three shots to travel 200 meters, a fourth subnatural burst from the very APC itself, a half-gargoyle, half-female with wings that caught all his shots. The purple beams were stopped in their tracks, energy dissipating against the magically-generated flesh. Only scorch marks remained, the gargoyle girl shooting a single glare into his direction before putting her attention onto more important things.

His shots weren’t powerful enough to pierce her hide, and now that the element of surprise was lost, his next shots were going to be so much less effective.

His teeth ground against each other, Brent’s jaw tightening as the Desert Eagle groaned and creaked beneath his grasp, slowly losing its form. He was running out time, and he was distinctly aware of it. The next shot or the shot after would start to have a lasting impact on his weapon, and once those malfunctions began, there was no way he’d be able to effectively snipe afterwards. Shit, shit, SHIT.

It was pure bad luck that the fourth subnatural had burst out of the APC in the same second as his shots. If it was a bit later, he would have killed all three. If it was a bit earlier, he would have held his fire and waited for another opportunity. But this? THIS was the worst situation! His amethyst eyes flared violently as silver blood boiled within. Everything was falling apart so fast. Savannah was dying. Marcus was completely restrained. Lawrence was bleeding out. Sophia was useless!

All because he didn’t have the destructive force necessary to punch through the thin membrane of a subnatural’s wings.

Weak as ever.

He spat out the current situation robotically for all to hear.

Unlucky as ever.

He replied to Ernie’s query systematically, pausing only once as he almost prohibited something attached to ‘winning’.

Pathetic as ever.

A wall of spikes, the growth of ice, as well as Emma and Callan’s speedy arrival. Offensive Support coming in for the assist while, on the map, it was clear that even Christmas, Zoe, and Ernie were going to join the fray, supporting people. Tortured pleas that were suddenly cut off from Sander’s transmitting cuff made it clear that the bloodlusting berserker had killed another enemy subnatural, while Chris had disappeared, tumbling into the earth. Everyone was moving, moving, moving, and yet, he was still here.

Stagnant.

Watching.

Not even trying to strategize.

Savannah’s neck broke before his very eyes, Callan’s aggressive tackle not taking into account the fact that the gargoyle girl had the small child in her grasp. Without being able to do a thing, Brent watched through his scope as a life was extinguished. Sav, the brat that got super pissy whenever he talked about drinking milk. Sav, the idiot who spent so many years teaching herself the violin and only now getting the chance to learn from a professional. Sav, the girl that had such a bright, eager smile when she was praised!

What was winning? Before, it would be saving Sav, but now that she was dead, it w-

FUCK, SHE WAS DEAD.

It was black and white, wrong and right, zeroes and ones, lose and win. There obviously wasn’t any other path but to fucking KILL the bitch that killed Savannah! How much of a snivelling fucktard was he, if he couldn’t even understand that immediately? Why would he even CARE about how Callan was currently smashing a fist or two into that bat-winged slut’s skull? Lawrence can bleed out, Brent hardly talked to that dude, but Sav?!

He had known them all, from the bookstore owner to the panhandler.

“CALLAN, BACK THE FUCK OFF!”

Every bit of restraint, every bit of pessimistic logic, he tore it all apart.

A stream of silver circuitry rushed down into the already overloaded weapon, springs and bolts and plates popping off as the Desert Eagle became more magic than steel. Grasping the weapon tightly in both hands, Brent’s eyes smouldered as they glared through the tortured, distorted scope. The gargoyle’s body. Her head. Her eyes. Her pupils.

If her skin was enough to deflect bullets, then he’ll shoot through the hole in her eye and scramble her brains from within.

The hot wind continued to blow even after the final form of the weapon was revealed, jet-black with turquoise lines racing up and down a barrel that was much too large for the small chamber. Sparks of energy burst from cracks within, and it thrummed, dangerously unstable.

How many shots would he have? One? Two?

How many people was he abandoning with this? Emma? Marcus? Lawrence? Sophia?

This single bullet could have been used to take down someone much more dangerous, someone that Callan, their powerhouse Striker, wasn’t already grappling. And perhaps, this single bullet may still be insufficient to piercing the cornea of someone who had superhuman durability.

“Losers and winners,” he muttered under his breath, tensing in expectation of the pain that would follow, “Doubt and faith.”

The fourth shot seared the skies, darting towards the individual that mocked the first, second, and third.

As Marcus nervously waited for the doors to swing open at any moment, his twitchy finger was almost set off by the series of quick shouts behind him, causing him to jump and whirl around just in time to see two gargantuan wings sprout from one of their passengers. The girl who had been hiding behind the scarf.

He had no time to let out the expletive he intended to shout, instead being thrown sharply from the vehicle as the air escaped his lungs and Savannah was pulled screaming out of the vehicle. His shotgun clattered from his hands as he hit the ground, but was quickly retrieved as Marcus lunged towards it, quickly turning to the newest threat, attempting to stead himself into a kneeling position.

Sparing no time to gaze upon the newest threat's features, he pulled the trigger once, aiming to shoot her in the center mass. The shotgun nearly wrenched itself from Marcus's hands as he fired, not prepared for the increased recoil, and as the tail slap sent him sprawling across the dirt, the shotgun bounced away from him.

As he pulled himself up again and reached for his pistol, he began to feel weightless. The gravity controlling mage was at it again, and there would be no way for them to defend themselves with her in play.

Marcus looked around, trying to find the source. Every mage had a telegraph; he had his static, Sophia's eyes glowed, Grant had his chains. One of them had to be- there!

He spotted the woman with the yellow hands, twisting and trying to aim as he floated off the ground, taking a clumsy shot at her as he struggled to maneuver.

With her attention fixed on the back doors and what was about to happen, Sophia didn't see what was happening nearby until she felt something bang against her, nearly knocking her off her seat. She let out a quick shriek of surprise, watching as a set of clothes flashed past her and out the doors along with three other people. Marcus, one of the men, and Savannah. A screaming Savannah.

It took her a second to realize what was wrong. The person who had slammed the nearby people against the wall couldn't have been strong enough to do that without some kind of power... meaning that there had been another subnatural with them in the APC. As if on cue, the ten minute timer on her power ran out once more and she was able to see what was really happening. Upon catching sight of the winged and clothed monster pinning down Savannah, she got up from her seat and began to scramble backwards away from the back of the truck, only half realizing what she was doing.

Her attention was fixed upon the winged woman as she continued her transformation, not even looking at Marcus until the path of the woman's tail collided with him. Oh no. Lawrence had been injured, Marcus was beginning to float, Savannah was pinned down. She was the only one in her team who had the potential to do something unhindered, but she couldn't do anything. Her power was useless. Even if she could shoot well enough, bullets did nothing against the winged thing. Her power was absolutely useless and weak, and therefore, so was she.

Marcus's shot hit the ground in front of his intended target, forcing her to step backwards, but not far enough that there was any noticeable difference to the field she projected.

The shots from Brent hadn't gone past her notice, either, and though her ally was blocking the sniper's line of sight for the moment, it was only a matter of time, especially if the USARILN mage had any other tricks up his sleeve. With Dreamcatcher's absurd magic anything was a possibility.

"Take them out! Quickly!" she shouted to her comrades as the three of them stepped back behind the safety of the armored car so the demonic Aberration could move freely.

Anchored to the ground and relatively safe from anything in the immediate vicinity, the clawed Aberration girl grabbed at Savannah's throat, squeezing as the girl's screams broke into jagged, choking noises.

Her small hands had no effect on the now rough skin of the mage's transformation and even a spell sigil placed right on the demon's forehead did little more than ignite in a fiery explosion that would have nearly killed anything less durable. The Aberration girl simply barked out a series of sharp, angry sounds that finally fell into enough rhythm for laughter, clutching tighter until Savannah's arms went limp.

Bits of shattered asphalt exploded at Callan's feet with every stride.

"Callan, they'll be to your right." Brent's voice was just barely audible over her own footsteps and breathing, which was bordering on a wheeze as the heavy feeling in her chest persisted. "Four subnaturals now. Blond-ponytail can create spikes out of pre-existing material, black hair girl has some sort of anti-gravity or telekinesis, and the male's ability is unknown. Fourth is some bullet-resistant gargoyle, pinning down Savannah."

Turning right down the nearest street, her eyes fell on the APC. Everything was as Brent had explained. The question of who she should go for first, however, was given little forethought as she surged forward.

"HEY!"

The four hostiles turned to face Callan, but wasted no time gawking. A wave of the blonde girl's arm brought up a wall of spikes to shield movement from the sniper as she and the black-haired girl moved away, leaving the winged monster and the dark-skinned man behind, though the anti-gravity Aberration maintained her field even as she moved.

For his part, the man made sure to stay squarely behind the truck as ice particles shimmered and condensed around his body, spreading outwards from his feet along the ground, then into the surrounding air. Where he stood closest to the APC's wall, the metal there became ice-cold to the touch before slowly freezing solid.

The sound of another voice caught Marcus's attention as he floated around, helplessly watching Savannah get strangled. He craned his neck to look, happier to see a streak of aquamarine than he had ever been. His mind didn't ask any questions about why she had suddenly appeared, all to grateful for the intervention.

"Hit the rock-lady!" Marcus shouted, perhaps a bit unnecessarily. Callan's sudden arrival had put the subnaturals into a defensive position, one that he'd be able to take advantage of if he could only aim properly.

His mind raced to come up with a plan. Something he could do to help before his entire team got wiped out by a product of his own carelessness. He did the one thing he could do in the situation - he rewound.

The sound of static faded as he found himself back towards the ground, but still floating. He mentally cursed himself for not using his power sooner - another one of his, thus far, numerous mistakes. Still, maybe he could do something with this.

He pushed the ground with his hand, sending his body into a lazy rotation. It probably would have been a hilarious scene at any other time - him slowly spinning in midair - but he at least had line of sight on the subnaturals who were crowding the APC, including the one with glowing hands.

One last desperate attempt he could try. Reaching into his holster, he pulled out the one thing he'd not used yet - the flare gun. As he waited for his body to spin into just the right position, he was vaguely aware of the sounds of other voices he couldn't locate. He ignored them, right now he had to focus. Marcus breathed deeply once, took aim at the anti-gravity mage's face, and squeezed the brightly colored trigger.

Callan was the fighter, his power didn't allow for much more than support - if he could distract, or even force the bad guys to shift their focus to him, he was doing his part.

It didn't take long for Emma to arrive, aided by Determination's speed. Anyone looking in her direction would be greeted by the sight of her desperately clutching onto her Tulpa's back as it sped down the street, suddenly stopping as it came within view of the APC. Emma dismounted, turning to take in the fight before her. Callan and Marcus already moved to fight the enemies, but Emma took a second to process the situation. Savannah was pinned to the ground... and she had stopped struggling.

That was a bad sign.

Lawrence was also downed and bleeding severely, red pooling underneath him. Emma brought a hand to her mouth, tears threatening to break- but now wasn't the time for that. She had to help them. "Get the gargoyle off of Savannah! And be careful, make sure to not hurt her!" she said to the Tulpa. Emma layed her hand on the knife- just in case.

Recognizing Savannah's dilemma as Marcus directed her attention to it, Callan set her sights on the gargoyle. As she neared, she heard a second familiar voice calling out some distance away. Emma was here? Of course she was here. Marcus was her boyfriend. As quickly as the thought came, however, it was gone. Recentering herself, she focused on what needed to be done, leaping towards the enemy in hopes of knocking her off of the young blonde aberration.

Callan's tackle caught the gargoyle just as Marcus's flare shot hit the black-haired girl dead on. She screamed as the flare flashed and burned her face before the cartridge fell to the ground only seconds before she did, crying and clawing at the likely permanent damage to her eyes.

Without her conscious control the targeted antigravity field disappeared, dropping all its victims to the ground. The ice field was still spreading and thickening, however, and the blonde-haired girl spared her a single glance before abandoning her, escaping the field before it reached critical levels.

Perhaps, in the series of events that occurred, a different action would have saved Savannah. Or perhaps not.

As frost steadily coalesced on everyone within the ice Aberration's field, the impact of Callan's charge against the gargoyle had two effects.

1. She and the demonic girl flew over eight meters away from the APC, crashing into the ground together.

But the Aberration's clawed grip on Savannah's throat remained.

2. On landing, the small girl's body continued moving with the momentum. The gargoyle's hand and its unnatural strength did not.

There was a sharp snapping sound. Savannah's neck bent at an absurd angle.

And the Aberration released the corpse, howling and swiping at the superhuman mage on top of it.

As soon as Callan made contact with the demonic aberration, time seemed to move as if it were drowning in mud. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a small body moving with them. That wasn't supposed to happen. They crashed into the ground and a loud snap brought everything in her mind screeching to a terrifying halt. That wasn't supposed to happen. She turned her head just enough to see as Savannah's body slide out of the gargoyle's grasp. Her breath hitched in her throat as honey gold eyes, wide and lifeless, stared back at her. Those eyes burned themselves permanently into her mind in the split second she had to observe.

Her fault.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

Callan was forced to look away as razor sharp claws embedded themselves in her cheek, carving out four linear divots as her head turned. Anger and regret washed over her in the form of nausea, but there wasn't time to stop and be sick. She could even feel her shadow beginning to bubble up from the distress of seeing her teammate's lifeless body, but there wasn't time. Wasn't time to lose control. Wasn't even time to think. Her brain buzzed with static. This girl-- no-- monster. She shared the blame for what had just happened. She couldn't be allowed to hurt anyone else. "RRRGH!" Callan screamed through her teeth in irate frustration, though her lungs painfully protested. Callan lifted her fist and sent it flying towards the creature's face, already cocking her other fist for a second blow.

He hit the ground, sadistically pleased with the sound of crying that had denoted his hit. On Callan's end, she'd done well, sending the gargoyle, herself, and Savannah sailing across the battlefield. She'd probably need a healing after a fall like that, but-

The sickening sound of crunching bone, and the young girl's sudden stop caused Marcus's heart to skip, and his stomach to do several flips. She was throw to the side like a ragdoll, and although he didn't want to acknowledge it, he knew. She was dead - no amount of healing could fix that.

A million different emotions coursed through him - he was angry at Callan's recklessness, he was furious at himself for letting this happen, distraught, sickened, afraid. All of them whirling around in his head, threatening to burst from him.

Later.

No time to stop and think about them now; there were people that were still in danger.

Always later.

Right now, he was allowing one emotion to slip through. The current offender was Ice Man. He gripped his crowbar tightly, the sound of static filling his ears.

He was vaguely aware of Emma being nearby. He should have called out to her, asked her to get Lawrence to one of the healer groups. Or maybe he should have gotten Lawrence into the APC. So many strategies, lost to the breeze.

It didn't matter. Right now, anger was clouding his judgement. He rushed forward, a sudden sprint with the aid of a fast-forward jump, bringing his weapon down on the man.

Oh god.

Determination had moved to do as she had asked, but all too late. Callan got there first, and what happened next... Emma didn't know if she wanted to blame herself, Callan, or the gargoyle. Maybe they all shared the blame. If Emma had been there quicker, if Cal had been more careful, if Marcus had done a better job of protecting the little girl...

That and approximately a hundred other thoughts raced through her head. Her stigma roared. Determination was gone.

Useless, again. Can't save anyone.

An unsteady breath came out of Emma. She watched the scene unfold, on the verge of crying or maybe screaming. Maybe both. By all accounts she should be doing something right now- fighting to save Marcus, to save Cal, to save Lawrence... but her body wouldn't move. Her Tulpas wouldn't come. Her grip on the knife was lost.

She was filled with fear. They were all going to die.

---

---

"Callan, they'll be to your right. Four subnaturals now."

“Team Halvost, this is Angel. Are you guys well enough to provide healing? I... require medical aid.”

On one side of town, four subnaturals against Marcus and Cal, with an injured Lawrence and pinned Savannah in the mix. On the other, Angel and Offensive Support who had just finished the bulk of their battle. A dying comrade versus certain safety from strength in numbers. Plus, there was a potential runaway Zoe he had to keep an eye on now. This was seriously the worst.

Like he'd done numerous times during this mission, Ernie frowned at the map. Distant booming and an erratically moving dot heralded the imminent arrival of a collector. Brent's shots had rendered the sniper's location a beacon for trouble. There were too many danger zones around them. And he still didn't know how to respond to Angel's request, which priority to chase. More information was needed. The radio was raised to his mouth, switched to Brent's channel first.

"Brent. What happened with Lawrence? Is it bad? Life-threatening?"

"Lots of blood around the chest area. Don't know if he's been shot or stabbed by a spike. Don't..."

A pause.

"Never mind."

"Oh. Thanks anyway."

Fuck. That threw a spanner in the works. And they still needed to respond to Angel. Ernie looked to Zoe silently, hoping for a good suggestion from a teammate.

Zoe looked at Ernie with a frown. Brent's words only confirmed what she already knew, that she wanted to be out there helping. The faster they ended the fight, the more chance they'd have to save him. They couldn't afford to risk Christmas, she knew that, but...

"Listen, Ernie. I'll take responsibility for everything we've fucked up out here. The torture, the running, letting them find Evac-- You don't have to deal with it. All I'm asking is that we don't sit by and let this happen."

She had to think this through, had to offer an incentive. No way was she getting out of there without convincing him, after all. Part of her had been tempted to just attack him and run, screw the consequences, but she couldn't risk that. There was every chance she wouldn't stop herself once she got started. Locking eyes with her teammate, Zoe kept her voice level as she spoke.

"If you're worried about Christmas, we leave him nearby. Ask Brent to watch his back, then get offensive support to bring him along once they get here. They've got a lot more firepower than us."

"Responsibility? What are you even--"

He flinched as a crash, louder than the last one, rang through the air. That dot was getting close. If they were making a decision, they needed to make it fast.

"A spotted sniper is close to dead meat. We can't leave Christmas with Brent. But I can take him to Offense myself, bring backup. If you can get to Evac and get Cal or anyone to bring Lawrence to us..."

The sensible part of his thoughts scolded him, told him that he was letting Zoe go through with exactly what he was trying to prevent earlier. The other irrational, stress-driven voice in him roared. Any action was better than waiting around. They'd be safer when surrounded by the Offensive Support group too.

But it would mean sending Zoe out alone.

He'd already made one bad decision in this mission. Was this going to be another one? How many people needed to die before he'd learn?

Ernie grabbed the jacket, removing the remaining parts of wishalloy from the pockets and offering them to Zoe. Transparent consolation for someone potentially running to their death, if she was desperate enough to take this course of action.

Zoe gave Ernie an odd look. Nothing she'd said really struck her as strange. It made sense to her that someone would have to deal with what happened to Evac, and their decisions had probably caused this in the first place. Not to mention the moral issues with their actions. Was she looking at things the wrong way? Dismissing her concerns for now, she looked at the alloy for a second before shaking her head.

"Skin contact powers, remember? I'll be fine." Maybe. Honestly, she couldn't guarantee it was true, but as long as she got the chance to leave then she could do something. Besides, these were human opponents. Frustrating as it was to admit, killing people was what her power excelled at.

"Get moving. I'll tell Angel what's happening on my way down there."

The dark-haired Aberration frowned at Zoe's refusal but chose to overlook it. There wasn't time for bickering.

"Watch out for the big guys. And tell Angel to take care of the one near her," he said simply, before turning and gesturing for Christmas to follow him east.

The healer followed without protest, turning back to look at Zoe for a second before falling into step behind Ernie. Enemy subnaturals, as if it wasn't enough that they were fighting giant machines. He wanted to sit down and breathe somewhere, but not a single place looked safe around Wisford, let alone with subnaturals targeting them. And why were they fighting? He had always halfway assumed there was a basic binary there--that subnaturals and regular people at least recognized their own "sides." But the thought remanded itself quickly when he remembered people didn't necessarily treat one another well, let alone people with magical powers.

He was just being stupid, like always, and hoping ignorance would trump reality.

His hands tried to fix the messy bandages around his throat, looking for distraction, and it worked partially as he kept his eyes on the heels of Ernie's shoes.

There was a thought he was desperately trying not to entertain, because the lurking realization that magic did trump reality brought with it too many dangerous hopes. Best not to dwell on powers that he didn't have...even if Dreamcatcher apparently had them in abundance.

Zoe nodded before heading out of the building, breaking into a jog as she pulled the radio from her belt. "Angel, Ernie and Christmas are headed your way, so I'll need you to take care of that collector near you guys. They're gonna be sticking with offensive support for now." She spoke quickly, trying to stay focused on her surroundings. For all her confidence, it was slightly unnerving not having anyone to watch her back.

Finally, it was over. Mostly. With their coordinated efforts, Angélique watched as every spiders and centipedes were utterly destroyed by the powers of her teammates. Seeing this pile of junk getting what they rightfully deserved, it brought satisfaction to the screaming Mage’s mind. Her stigmas wasn’t entirely sated, still yearning for bringing personal doom, but the lack of targets would suffice to get herself back in control.

Already, Emma signaled her team that she was leaving to help the Evacuation team. Angel was just about to call out the Tulpamancer's name, but the Aberration had already turned the next ruined block and was out of sight. It was no use stopping her now. She seemed too determined to save the others instead of waiting for the whole group to go together.

It reeked of bad decisions. Hopefully, Emma would meet Callan on the way there and they'll be able to protect each other. Hell, maybe even Brent would cover her if she met trouble on the way.

Now that Angel had calmed down and there was nothing threatening in the immediate vicinity, the X-marked young woman swiftly took off her half-disintegrated military pants, revealing the mostly intact pair of jeans underneath, save for the important bits missing by lack of Wishalloy application. To hide her half-naked lower body, the raven-haired Aberration took the remaining pants right leg and wrapped it around her lower body, covering most of her naked butt cheek and front. It didn't completely cover the whole missing parts, but it did the job. At least it saved Angel the embarrassment of roaming the battlefield with an eyeful of naked bum and V-line.

Feeling more at ease from no longer feeling her important bits naked, Angélique turned to the other victim of Hazel's impromptu stripping, noticing how exposed Siena was as well. Seeing her in that state, Angel was bothered by it and figured she'd fix it rather than leave her friend on the battlefield with her delicate features uncovered. Siena probably thought the same way as she did when putting her alloy on.

Angel took off the ruined remains military jacket to reveal the bulletproof vest underneath zipped on top of a shoulderless deep purple sweater and walked towards Siena, disintegrated jacket in hand.

"Hang on Siena. Stand still for a second."

Angélique announced herself to the girl as she walked up behind her, taking the black military wear and draped it around the brunette Arbiter's lower body. Making sure what little remaining of the jacket covered most of her friend's naked embarrassing places, the sonic Mage then tied the cloth tightly as best as she could. Being taller than the younger girl, Angel had to lean a bit forward, her head just about at the same level as Siena's as she worked on the makeshift paréo.

"There you go. That should hold on until we get back. Don't want to have you running around the place half-naked, hm?"

While Angel was covering Siena's parts, she could not help but notice the injuries on the girl's shoulder and hand. How did she got those injuries in the first place? Were they caused by the metal hound that jumped on her?

"Are you alright?" The obsidian-haired Aberration asked out of concern to the brunette Arbiter. "Your wounds... Do you need a Healer to fix you up?"

As expected, Shizuri didn't last long, though Hank's quick disappearance was startling. Dropping her now-injured arm, Siena released a breath, willing herself to work through whatever faint discomfort the fatigue would bring. Fury boiled beneath the surface, but she'd spent her entire life learning how to control that. To control all her emotions, really. Long before the whatever joke of a deity drew a white paintbrush across her face, Maya had been there to teach Siena how to arm herself in ways unseen and underestimated.

The thoughts didn't continue for long before Siena was grounded by Angel's voice, her body instinctively starting to move, but a conscious effort keeping her cemented. Standing still was difficult with her head twisting every thought, harder still with the bitter rage throwing its weight against the edges of her self-control, trying to create a reason to lash out as Angel tied the jacket. The brunette took a soft breath, fatigue dulled in the wake of frustration.

Instead, she directed her attention to the wounds on her arm. Bleeding--it looked worse than it felt. More blood than expected, but the cuts weren't likely to be that deep. She examined it for only a moment before shaking her head lightly. The pain was at least something to grasp onto.

"Not really. It looks worse than it is, see?" Doing a few quick movements with her fingers to show there was no loss of mobility, Siena allowed her arm to drop back to its place, her uninjured arm already tapping through a selection of images and words. "The other teams need our help. I can get to them without fail from here if everyone else can handle any remaining clockworks."

Angel sighed in relief upon seeing how superficial her comrades' wounds were. It was probably her overprotective side that dramatized the importance of the injuries.

Hearing Siena's conviction towards helping their other classmates in their time of need, it renewed the Aberration's will to fight. She nodded to the Arbiter.

"Alright. We'll deal with the giant one over there and be on our way to help the others."

After Ethan suggested the offensive support team members to return to the drop off point, Angélique shook her head negatively, a frown drawn on her injured and shades-less face.

“We still have work to do. Evacuation Team is besieged by Rogues, and from Brent’s perspective, things are going to shit over there. I’m not letting my fellow classmates down after all we’ve went through. We’ll save them and return from this mission together.” Angel turned to the members of her team “Right, guys?”

“Grant, can I borrow your mission phone? Mine got… pulverized in the heat of battle.”

While Angélique was still a bit mad over Hazel having blown up half her stuff and clothes from dragging her at the center, she tried to conceal her frustration and hold off from blaming her for what she did. She already yelled at the Aberration earlier out of spite from her loss of control, no need to aggravate the situation right now.

Taking the phone Grant handed to her, Angel took a moment to look at the map and locate everyone. Sander was off inside the mines; Callan was heading towards Evacuation Team; Christmas’ team and Gregory had moved away from their original position, and Evac team was not far south from her current position. The only team that seemed to have remained stationary were Lilianna’s team.

Nodding to herself, Angel opened a channel frequency available only to Healer Team Halvost. She acknowledged Brent’s warning earlier about the possibility of the Rogues spying on their position, and as such wanted to limit the flow of information by speaking directly to the folks concerned individually

“Team Halvost, this is Angel. Are you guys well enough to provide healing? I... require medical aid.”

It was tough for Angel to ask for help, especially since their position was compromised early in the battle from an encounter with a Rogue Subnatural assassin. But the pain was starting to become unbearable. Her face started to get numb. She could taste the iron and dirt from the blood slowly dripping from the gashes on her face. She could remember someone from the evaluation telling them the need to see the bigger picture. It would be a stupid death to bleed out like that instead of getting patched up.

"Angel, Ernie and Christmas are headed your way, so I'll need you to take care of that collector near you guys. They're gonna be sticking with offensive support for now."

It took a while for that response, but it somehow satisfied the sonic Mage. If Ernest and Christmas were joining offensive support, then that meant Zoe was off helping Evac team as well. They probably were planning this move just after they got Angel's call. Looks like everyone will be converging onto the battle with the Rogues in the end.

"Alright, we'll be taking care of that thing. Be careful out there. We'll come to help as soon as we're done here."

As soon as she acknowledged Zoe's message, Angelique switched channel frequency to one of the remaining member of the Striker Team she wasn't sure about his whereabouts. They needed as much firepower as she needed to help taking down whatever those Rogues were.

“Chris, Angel here. Join us up as soon as you are done dealing with your targets. If you need healing, Christmas is going to be with us ”

Since she knew Chris couldn’t speak in Dragon form, from her previous training sessions with him, Angel didn’t bother keeping the channel open. Whether he'll come or not, she will see soon enough.

Turning to face her team, Angel tried to keep a reassuring composure about herself despite feeling so weary from the blood she was losing. Hopefully, this battle was going to be over soon, she wished. She returned Grant's phone to its owner.

"Let's get that Collector out of the way for Christmas and Ernest to reach us safely."

Determined to get this over as soon as possible, the ex-rockstar didn't want to mess around for long, even in her injured state. If she could just hold on long enough, she'll be patched up soon enough to enjoy a painless face. For now, all that mattered was getting rid of that mammoth-sized clockwork heading their way before helping the others at Evac Team,

Hopefully Callan and Emma were good enough help to save Lawrence's team.

While she did not want to get in the way of the others' attacks, the raven-haired young woman did not want to feel useless, standing around doing nothing while her team was doing all the hard work. She wanted to be of as much help as she could be.

Taking a deep breath and centering herself from her now more focused mind, Angelique started walking towards the elephantine construct. She knew her range, The machine's unnatural long arms were not long enough to reach for Angel in her direct area of effect.

The sonic Aberration shouted out four finely precised shots of concentrated sonic waves, one after the other. Her targets were the joints on the Collector's four legs, one scream for each leg.

After her series of shrieks ended, Angel coughed a few times. Her throat was getting sore. She could feel herself nearing her limits.

---

---

Chris didn't expect to be swallowed whole by the construct, perhaps he should have tried a different maneuver in hindsight. However a new plan struck his fancy after being trapped face first in its maw; He could destroy it from within. That idea was before the serpent went haywire. With the construct's deactivation and its subsequent crash, Chris took a moment to fathom that the creature was no longer active before he began to push upward. A breath of flames shot up to the upper jaw of the snake to melt a hole straight through its head. Coupled with a few pushing jolts Chris busted through the mechanical beast with a triumphant cry.

“Chris, Angel here. Join us up as soon as you are done dealing with your targets. If you need healing, Christmas is going to be with us ”

With no more enemies in sight, Chris's adrenaline had worn down and with it returned the sensation of aching pain along his bleeding form. He hadn't even considered getting himself healed until Angel brought it up. More importantly, he had a new set of orders in perfect timing. While he wanted to go right away and help out with the subnatural threat, regrouping and healing up would be far more effective and less reckless.

the dragon arbiter finished pulling out of the metal corpse and flew back into the air. His eyes scanned the earth below as he flew towards offensive support's designation.

Hazel Baker

---

Without a doubt, the mission had been finished. Her main directive was to face the brunt of Factory's army to lessen the load off those who would strike directly at the leader itself. That person on that other team confirmed it. What was his name? Was she even told his name?

"You guys can head back to the drop-off point. ...Good work."

That was what he said. The sight of Angel's torn up face was somehow more unpleasant to her than all the bodies around; she was loathe to stay anywhere near her for the moment. As for the rest, she heard the frightened pleas over the cuff, she heard the commotion, she heard the call for help. She even heard what Angel said. But it was simply not something for 'Hazel Baker' to do.

"They should be able to handle it by themselves." What are you scared of?

"It is unnecessary to go beyond orders." We are stronger than this.

"Their incompetence is their own shortcoming." We have the power to help.

That was right. They live and die by their own doing. She had nothing to do with this. Hazel Baker had nothing to do with this. Her role was finished.

Wordlessly, Hazel walked back towards the extraction point.

After her conversation with Angel, Siena was already prepared to leave, the circle flaring to life beneath her feet and her eyes brightening to a faint, blue color before quickly shifting to red as the next names took their place. A perfect teleporter, a name only used once before. Linked with unpleasant memories...no, not unpleasant. It had been...nice then, hadn't it? It was the second name that she held near and dear to her. She'd pulled it numerous times before, had an intimate understanding of how long, how strong, how very near and dear it was to her. Always when she was alone. Always when she didn't know any other way to pull herself together other than to give herself something to--

'Focus.'

Without any time to communicate her intentions, Siena quickly took a breath, a strange sensation of knowing where she was going overwhelming her body. An awareness that dared to seep into her from every direction as instinct overwhelmed her and took the jump away from her rational thought. She should have headed to a place she could survey the situation before making the jump--their opponents weren't likely to have any information on her own skill set, after all--but something pulled hard at her. Brent had relayed enough information. Marcus and Savannah were in trouble, as were any survivors that they might have been able to save. And more importantly, she could catch the faintest traces of something almost addicting.

Yet beyond even that base desire to help her comrades, something dark twisted in the pit of her stomach. Something between fury and fascination, a part of her that had come and gone like a passerby with every name she'd taken in combat, and it was there, twisting, growing, and gnawing at the edges of her conscious thought. By all means, it should have frightened her, and perhaps it would have, if the thought of enjoying the act of giving in wasn't that much more terrifying.

A step into the heat of the moment was sure to take such a feeling away from her, wasn't it? Where she could no longer piece together any psychological reasoning or sort out what parts belonged to her and what didn't--it was only possible when she was doing something.

The world snapped back into view through a haze of pink smoke, her eyes trying to adjust to the new scenery. No errors made, she was close enough to see the battle, but--

"Savannah...?" It was her. There was no doubt, even at Siena's range. In the midst of the combat, her small frame was just...there. Unresponsive. Siena tried to coax a reaction. Line of sight was enough. Nothing. Not even a sense of pain. No. No, no, no, no, no.

Finer control. Fewer cracks on the inside.

Not worth it.

Her body moved, phone still in hand, a numb sensation as she looked for someone, something to blame. She needed it. Someone to blame. Hate. Someone that...she had to find someone. Needed...!

Over there.

A sweet feeling wrapped its fingers around her, into her. Deep into the nerves, a sickening nectar almost like ambrosia. Pain. She could sense it, identify it. Unknown figures, one of which was being attacked by a face she knew. Hostiles, her mind screamed. Targets.

Their fault. Had to be their fault.

Images of Padma's death tried to replay, as if to try and make her falter, but it didn't work. She wanted someone to break. BREAK.

So she took the pain that was already present and amplified it, used the rage that had cycled into a serene calm to duplicate the sensation and then tried to drive it into the other unknowns. Used what little rational thought she could salvage to increase the pain from her injuries, stinging lacerations that burned as though she'd rubbed salt into the flesh. It grounded her, provided something that might have been almost euphoric if not for the situation at hand.

It wasn't as strong as he could have been, but it was pain, and at that moment, it was hers.

---

The battle against the Metalworks was pretty much over for the team. The panic and chaos were no more. Grant took the free chance of catching his breath, brushing his hair away from his face as best he could. He took a good look around at his surroundings, before a subnatural, fortunately friendly, walked over to them, giving short and simple sentences. Grant gave another glance nearby to the Metalwork mentioned by him. Didn’t seem too difficult to deal with.

Grant looked back over to his teammates that still remained. Angel.. and Siena, the former deciding how the remaining subnaturals were going to go about this. Frankly, he would’ve liked to get some rest at the drop off, but... two of his teammates out of four had already left. There was no harm in sticking around with them. He blinked away from his thoughts when Angel had just asked him a question, regarding his phone. He gave a brief nod and let her use to contact the others, and she gave the phone back right after, which he put back where it belonged.

After the brief break, Hazel leaving, and Siena teleporting away, it was him and Angel left to deal with the Metalwork that was previously pointed out to them. He stepped with her to it, letting her get the first attack in, her screams ringing toward it. He was about to ready an attack before he heard Angel’s cough. He blinked and looked over at her. It seemed like her screams were getting to her. He kept an eye on the Metalwork, just in case her screams weren’t enough, his chains near to the earth. He brought a hand up and gave a pat to her back. ”...We’re almost done.” He’d tell her, his words meant to be at least a bit encouraging, his chains connecting with the ground as he looked on at the Collector.

The collector toppled once Allison cut it's front legs off. It really was a shame that weapon didn't work on flesh. Her job done, Kusari expected the girl to back off and keep running, but she didn't stick to the plan. Allison kept attacking recklessly. She should have seen this coming, back in the diner it was clear she was dealing with destructive impulses. The collector was reaching it's arms out towards them now, Kusari was far enough away to be safe, but Allison wasn't. She almost wanted to let it attack Allison, maybe that would teach her a lesson. "You moron, get out of there!" She screamed, sounding more angry than worried.

However, the machine suddenly stopped, and it's arms fell to the ground. Kusari looked around, it didn't seem like anyone had attacked it. Factory. It seemed they really did take care of it, she didn't understand exactly how it's power worked, but it was clear that without Factory the machines were crippled. Its hatch opened, and its captives flooded out like the innards of a gutted pig. Kusari didn't want to look at it, she didn't want to acknowledge that some of them were still alive. They could either save them, or she could save her... friends? She didn't have a right to call any of them that, but she was still connected to them whether they liked it or not.

The machine was still moving, but it was hardly a threat at this point. They were wasting time. "Allison! Pull your head out of your ass or I'm leaving you behind!"

The shard struck through the machine again. Allison didn't think, she simply swung her arm, and the weightless blade did the work for her. The sickly site before her, bodies flooded onto the ground about the mechanical beast, barely registered in her mind. Kusari's words, though, cut through the oddly meditative state with a searing intensity. The shard struck again, then disappeared.

Allison's head was foggy, her senses numb. She felt sick, as if she was about to vomit. The stench of death invaded her nostrils as soon as her vision focused on the pile of bodies, some of them still clinging to life. She turned her head away and tried not to think about it. She needed to move along. She followed Kusari as quickly as she could, stumbling slightly as she came to her senses.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Lily remained stationary, her expression a mixture of horror and worry. The pained groans emanating from within the machine seemed to echo louder, as if responding to her presence. There were still people who needed to be saved. How could she just ignore them. Ignorant to, or perhaps just ignoring, Kusari's harsh tone, Lily began reaching out with her black thread.

She had been so worried about Allison, that when Lily didn't move she was mildly shocked. Kusari glanced at the black thread and realized what she was doing. She really was getting sick of this. Why wouldn't they just listen to her? Lawrence could be dead by now and there was no telling what was happening to the others at the scene. Petulant children only able to think of what was right in front of them, maybe they should be collared and sedated like Haze-

"Forget them!" Kusari screamed, flushing her previous thoughts away. She couldn't let her desperation push her that far, she'd be no better than Zhang at that point. But that didn't mean she was above being forceful altogether. Tossing the hammer to her right hand, she rapidly reached out and wrapped her left tendril around Lily. "They don't care about you, most of em' wish you were dead. They aren't worth it. Lawrence is." Lily was lifted from the ground and carried to be beside Kusari. She say her down and looked her in the eyes. "You are going to follow me, if I have to drag you there I will." Patting her on the back to urge her forward, Kusari continued towards the evacuation team.

Lily glared back silently, but relented. She nodded, obviously bitter about the turn of events.

---

---

---

Once again, Ethan was playing second fiddle to the better powers. Shane had reprimanded him enough times about wanting the limelight, but it didn't change the envy when the showstopper abilities always seemed to favor everyone else. He liked being the hero. He liked being the guy people looked to and thought of as "the strongest of East's subnaturals."

These were things that bolstered his ego in ways no consolatory words could and he knew better than to pretend the achievement of saving others was enough to satisfy him.

He liked the glory for glory's sake.

It was childish, but there it was. Now he was left with detail work, after the new kids handily demolished what had taken his team a day and more to hem towards manageable amounts before they met their stalemate. Several frustrated shots of light scorched the dense metal of Factory's sphere as he and Genevieve approached the downed enemy. Also the work of the new kids. It nagged at his pride that without Shane their group had almost no meaningful stopping power in a decent timeframe. During simpler days when he had the luxury of being angry at insignificant things, Ethan would have raged at his online teammates if they had tried taking down the enemy team without a proper carry. Then his powers had appeared and he had gone with the flow under the impression that everything would settle soon enough and he'd be lauded as a hero once he had murdered enough monsters and obliterated enough enemy subnaturals.

He pretended to examine the remnants of the partially mechanized body in the sphere's center, jaw and a fist clenched.

"Is this him?" Genevieve's voice reminded him to save the self-pity for a different moment, when he could wallow in peace.

"Is what him?"

She pointed at the face on the ground.

Ethan didn't give it more than a passing glance.

"Guess so. You should send a picture back to the Institute. See if they have any records on him."

The young girl nodded, unfazed by a decapitated head whose face had fallen off. She adjusted her light headphones as one hand hunted through her coat and jeans for her military issued phone. It turned up in the inner pocket of her duffle coat, and a few quick snapshots of the face from various angles followed.

"...When do you think Shane will wake up?" she asked, watching the uploading bar tick slowly through the percentages while faint music played through her civilian phone's bluetooth connection with the headset.

"I don't know," Ethan answered, changing the conversation abruptly with a check on Myla. "Myla, everyone okay?"

A beat of silence followed and for a moment he thought the worst.

The opening buzz of a response quickly set those fears at ease.

"We're fine, but the other team is--there're enemy subnaturals on the map, Ethan, can you help?"

"They've got it covered. And me and Gen are pretty tired."

"I'm not that tired--" Genevieve's response ended at the glare Ethan leveled her, and she narrowed her eyes in response. "I'm not tired, Myla!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, opening the line on her phone as well just to make sure.

Silence followed again, and Ethan's frown at her soon turned into the smallest hint of bared teeth.

"We won't make it there in time, anyway," he protested. "And besides, if there're enemy subs around, we've gotta keep you guys safe, then. You're sitting ducks right now."

From Myla's end, an audible sigh. Her next transmission was subdued, and fatigue creeped at the edges of her voice.

"Yeah. ...Let's regroup. We shouldn't split up if the other team is taken down."

---

Brent's shot found its mark in the gargoyle girl's left eye, the projectile puncturing at an angle and embedding deep in the mage's upper, sturdier jaw.

The scream that followed was broken into wet, uneven syllables as blood dripped from the girl's nose and pooled inside her mouth.

Callan's punches had already turned the hardened skin on the side of her head black and blue, but the bullet and its subsequent agony made her convulse violently below the superhuman Arbiter.

Her arm came up again in an attempt to throw Callan off, other hand pressed uselessly against the bleeding hole where her left eye had been.

Near the APC, Marcus's attack connected and the frost mage was sent sprawling to the ground, blood streaming down the side of his head where the crowbar had broken skin on impact. He blinked, disoriented by the attack, but still possessing enough sense of mind to raise the pistol in his hand and fire blindly in his attacker's general direction, one of the bullets catching Marcus in the upper left arm where ice crystals were starting to collect and condense.

Just then, Siena's appearance and pain radiation crippled the frost mage in the area and he spat out a string of curses as he clutched at his hands and arms, eyes scanning for the culprit. Finally given the chance to notice the latest arrivals, he shot again at both Emma and Siena, the magazine emptying within seconds, but the pain searing through his arms wiped any chance of a properly aimed shot and all the bullets went wide. Further away, the blonde haired girl yelped at the sudden pain in her arms, but gritted her teeth and bore it, raising a series of sharp spikes below Siena that shot upwards, throwing the girl off her feet and nicking her legs where the wishalloy didn't protect. But the worst of it glanced off the magical armor, much to the Aberration's anger. Another series of spikes lifted under Siena again, but movement from the APC caught the blonde girl's attention and she turned quickly to deal with it.

The area around the car was growing blisteringly cold now and Lawrence's prone form nearby looked nearly frozen, his lack of movement allowing the ice particles to gather that much faster on him.

It took the older man a while to recover from the fall after the levitation field disappeared, but as he clambered back to his feet, his resolve to finish what he had set out to do was unwavering. Dean was going to need cover in order to get everyone out of dodge. Aiming his pistol at the black haired aberration who had been blinded by Marcus's flare gun, he squeezed the trigger.

Dean immediately seized his opportunity to make a run for the driver side door, sparing Lawrence a token glance. Unluckiest bastard he'd ever met. Tearing open the door, he didn't bother closing it as he jumped in and eagerly turned the key that had been left in the ignition. The set up was clearly different than that of a regular car, but all he needed know was how to go. "Everyone hold on!" Hearing the engine roar, his foot sank into the gas pedal. For one terrifying moment, he could feel some of the wheels fighting to move against the ice that held them in place, but the powerful vehicle won out in the end, lurching forward and racing away to safety.

As sturdy as he was, Dennis Dumais couldn't bounce back like he used to. The shot tore through the girl's shoulder, but even if he'd hit his mark, he'd chosen the wrong target. The blonde young woman waved a hand towards him like one might swat away a fly before one large spike rose up in front of him, obscuring his view. A second spike jutted out from the existing one at an angle. Dennis's feet left the ground, but it was far from that feeling of weightlessness he'd experienced a moment ago. In fact, everything suddenly felt much heavier than usual.

His weapon hit the ground before he did as the spikes retracted. His eyelids felt the heaviest of all, but before everything faded to black, Dennis managed to glimpse the retreating bumper of the APC as his grandson sped away.

Pain, pain, and more pain finally drove the injured Aberration on the ground just mad enough that she couldn't care anymore.

Yellow light washed over the entire area for almost twenty meters around her, barely missing the car as it escaped. Everything in the field floated upwards save for her and she screamed into the concrete until her voice was hoarse.

---

Several people tried to crawl out of the mess that spilled from inside the collector that Lily's group had left behind, but injuries compounded with the lack of room and air within the machine had left them too weak to move far. One blinked weakly after Kusari as the subnatural walked away, pulling two others with her after declaring the people nearby less worth the time than someone else.

Were he in a normal frame of mind, he would have thought the reaction appropriate. The world certainly hadn't been kind to subnaturals the last ten years and there were only the barest hints that social outlook was beginning to improve for them.

But he wasn't sitting cozy in his home at the moment. Nor was he calmly thinking through political conundrums behind his desk at city hall where an overturned plaque denoting his title as the town's mayor had, by now, been knocked into a corner during the initial rush to escape.

He only saw a subnatural caring for its own and in that delirious moment where the world's issues were too far out of mind, he could see that schism growing. It already had, by any estimation, but now it threatened to divide the world in two. The stopgap measures of the Institutes were the only sentinels against the growing dissatisfaction everyone could feel, but couldn't fix. The lines were being drawn and redrawn in the sand everywhere else and Mayor Tisdahl wasn't the only politician to realize what the inevitable outcome of it all could be.

Who started and propagated what wouldn't matter in a modern war against magic and by that point there would be little recourse for either side except total annihilation.

All the potential consequences seemed packaged neatly into the subnatural girl's receding back, and he hoped it was just a byproduct of the pain-addled thoughts that gave him such a bad feeling about it all.

As he wavered in and out of consciousness, his last waking thought was simply, They could have at least called for help.

---

Towards what remained of the initially sortied members of offensive support, Angel's attacks shattered the collector's legs, one missing its mark amd puncturing the metal near the collector's foot instead, but throwing it off balance enough that it tipped over anyway, crashing onto its side.

The large hatch near the front of its torso clattered open and deposited only an emulsion of clothing and human onto the street, the result of its body trying to rearrange its innards--humans included.

The stench was incredible and escaped the clockwork creature easily in the cold, evening air, blanketing the nearby mages with a nauseating wave of heat and human odors.

West of them, Ernie and Christmas were moving as quickly and carefully as possible towards Angel's location, the healer obediently tailing Ernie as they attempted to navigate around the worst of the crashing and thundering sounds near their location. They needed to reach Angel, but the shaking and thundering only seemed to follow them despite Ernie's attempts to put some distance between himself and the source of the noise.

Without warning, the collector's footsteps quickened and the sound of cement and glass shattering just a few buildings away was far too close for comfort.

If they had made any progress towards leaving the danger behind during the walk, it was rectified quickly when the machine turned down the street just ahead of them and twitched repeatedly, slamming the side of its body against a nearby wall before stumbling straight at the pair. Whatever remained of its original purpose seemed to flicker in and out of the spastically winking lights of its eyes, and the clockwork barreled at the two of them once it finally registered two living things in its path.

---