"It's you or them..." lost in the memories of sheer harrowing survival, the preceding perils you've had to endure up to this point. It tears at you, but you steel yourself, struggling to regain your bearings as you hear the distinctive sounds of weapons cocking and hurried footsteps scurrying to find cover. Coming off the adrenaline from the initial raid, you center yourself for what's to come. Deep breaths pull you back into a state of hyper concentration, forcing your keen instincts to take hold of you once more...

The dilapidated ruins of the old structure hang over the area like an open carcass of concrete frames, disjointed instruments of astonishing scale, fragmented glass minefields, and snaking metal channels. However, amidst the rubble you feel an inspired sense of welcoming potential, as the twilight washes over the many elevated alcoves, and vaults of rubble.

Isn't it just like the ratters to find such a charming hovel to nest in. You've peeked around every corner and studied every exposed district, moving slowly through the vestiges of the battered edifice, finding little bits and bobs of random paraphernalia from the old age. It isn't far from reality to surmise the rest of their home having been adorned, or lack thereof, in a similar fashion.

You recall the laughter of your compatriots, always witty, foul mouthed, and with a mind for the old world. Clad in bright colors with a song in one hand, and a gun in the other. You've been through think and thin with the caravan. No matter how long it took, everyone would scour each transport wreckage for those little geisha dolls with big heads that wobbled. Holding one you found from the junk piles, it almost feels bitter sweet.

The initial shootout was disastrous, caught off-guard by the sheer number of rodents involved, there were plenty of casualties on both sides. Though you know that between the two, you and your caravan won't last long if you back down now. Water and grub are completely gone, medical supplies and sleep are sorely needed by all. Whether or not you had any inkling of guilt beforehand on conquering someone's home is long gone.

This is the moment of truth, pushed to the edge, you look to your remaining team as if it were your last, and move in, weapon drawn...

---

"Alright Vic, we're almost done," she checked her rifle, "almost out of bullets too." Jen sighed, whipping the rifle shut. Exhausted, hungry, and injured, she could barely keep up her usual positive farce. Being dragged down to earth felt terrible, and so did being covered in earth. She quickly darted to a sturdy wall and pressed her back against it, checking out her injuries.

"What do you have left on you Vic? All I got is this bad boy that'll shoot them up nicely." Jen peered round the corner, trying to detect the locations of the remaining few. "If you got nothing, then I'll go ahead and try ta sneak up on em, blow their brains out,"

---

As Jenzy peered around the corner, the odd violet cat-like being beside stared up at her with furrowed brows and a hint of fustration.

"If you could just HOLD STILL for even a moment, Lyn. MAYBE it'll stop hurting!" He hushed so as not to give away their location, but having to catch up with the Vic's and the girl's darting around was clearly making his job that much harder.

Deftly, he pinched the wound on her hip close and picked out the jarting splinters with his claws. "Tsk tsk." Tossing them aside, he reached into his pack for a small spray bottle filled with a green, viscuos liquid that smelled of bitter almonds - with which he applied liberally unto the bloodstained flesh. An experimental mix of topical painkillers and strong glue made from mutated plants found near The Zone to hold the wound shut. ...If there ever was a time to test them, might as well be now.

Will you two keep quiet, grunted Vic as she knocked her hardened knuckles on the steel bar. Her ears were pinned to the rusty metal surface, patiently waiting for some sort of reverberation.

These structures have not been maintained for who knows how long. If I can just break it hear ... and maybe there ...

I'm going to bring this whole thing down and the rodents with it. But I'm gonna need some distraction. Can you provide that?, she asked pointedly at both the deft stalker and the quirky little cat-thing.

---

"You want to destroy the place we've come to secure in the first place!?" There it was once more, Rowan's disapproving frown. Well, as much as his particular face could frown anyway. He patted Jenzy's glued wound firmly then took out a small broken mirror he always carried with him, sticking it out sideways and tilting it till he could see the enemies clearly.

"...one ....two ...three~" He approximated the number of firearms they had. Then tucked himself back.

"You're a fire magic user, right?" His beryl eyes darted to Vic's pudgy form. That was what he called the unusual abilities some of them had, for lack of better words. "If you can heat up their weapons, they will go off on their own and not only provide a distraction - it will make them unusable or even take out some of them. Without destroying what we're here for!"

He tiptoed over Jenzy and propped the tiny reflective surface on the floor, angling it so that Vic could see the bandits without exposing herself while focusing her magic.

"Then in the bedlam, Lyn here can," His large ears twitched as one of them pointed at her. "-you know what to do."

---

Seeing Rowan reach forward she flinched and tried to shift away, but she didn't do it in time.
"Whoa-whoa-whoa hey don't-" It hurt, so much. There were some splinters, but he was trying to peel her skin at some point. She hissed, and slapped his hand away, but got sprayed with that nasty green stuff which only made it hurt more.

She was about to wack Rowan with her gun, but immediately froze when Vic slammed her fists. "Right-right got it Vic, but you gotta calm down. Else you'd scare em away."

"Ok yall ready? I'll sneak behind them and try to shoot at them," Jen scattered off without hearing their answer. She shifted as close as she could to the enemy and hid behind a bush. Aim, ready, fire.

Fire is not a toy to play with, Vic growled quietly. She didn't quite understand the cat-ling's deal, nor did she care enough to find out. But the tiny thing was right: there is no need to destroy everything. Just some.

Don't worry. I will just break enough, grinned Vic as she took off to inspect a nearby steel beam. Dislocating it would slant the floor, enough to catch the rodents tumbling down. Who knows, a cupboard may drop on one or two of them. At the very least, it would be a perfect distraction for Jenzy to come in hot.

Watch your head kitty Vic smirked at Rowan

With a crack and whiz, the first shot rings out. Red trickles slowly from the smoking hole in his head, the rampart lookout freezes for a moment, before slumping over into a pool of his own blood.

Violent shadows dance across the walls of the vermin kingdom, jagged depictions of the misshapen and beastly creatures haunting the remaining bowels of the industrial complex.

Vic's grin turns to satisfaction, as her modifications to the support beam places the entire section under the whim of her control. A well placed solid impact should make short work of the remaining lookouts, with enough of a cascading chain reaction to disorient the rest.

Unaware, as the ratter's snipped squeaks echo from their last bastion of defense. There's never been a better moment to whip out the big guns. The suspicious grinding of gears and heavy machinery elude to a rather unsettling development up ahead.

---

'Headshot!' Jen shouted, well, mentally. She wasn't about to lose her life after getting such a perfect shot. She dipped back down behind the bush and did a little victory fist pump. One less rat to deal with. She peered over at her mates, looking a little concerned at how happy Vic seemed for having sabotaged the structure of their 'soon to be home'.

Being close to them rats now, she started the scout the area to give more insight for her mates. Knowing Rowan, he'd probably start blowing them up after knowing their location, just hoping he wouldn't end up blowing too much of their home up too. Jen popped her head up from the bush and tried to scout the area with her imaginary binoculars.

---

Rowan scowled at her the moment she called him 'Kitty', "I'm a man, fatty, just like any of you!" This was what 718 often told him, that they were Human too and nothing less. How many times did he need to remind them? Maybe he will just forgo making anaesthesia when it comes to treating Vic's wounds next time.

"Yeah I'm rea-" He replied to Jenzy, still staring, fuming, at the pudgy woman. Only to realize she was gone when he reached out beside him, he turned around in panic only to see her silhouette dive into some far off bush after a loud gunshot.

"Rats!" He cursed.

She was too far for him to get over there without being seen AND she was alone, how did she ever become a Stalker being that reckless!? His thoughts raced as he glanced down at the mirror he left on the floor, spying the shadows scuttering about.

Shadows ...rodentia ....gloomy.

His large eyes lit up, immediately he started digging into his bag of his contraptions and soon pulled out a small sack with a fuse wrapped around it.

"This better work." He mumbled, threatening the fates themselves. With another rectangular device that produced flame, he lit the fuse and held it for a few seconds. He eyed the metal cropping that stood over the enemy ranks and took a few steps back, mustering all the distance he could before leaping forward and throwing the sack against the bent bars!

The paper sack burst into fire midair and slammed against the obstacle, releasing a shower of bright, almost blinding sparks that cascaded unto them. It would sting too, of course, making it difficult for any nocturnals to see --- but this was no explosive in the end and was put together from the remnants of bullet-making.

Still. Who said fire could not be a toy!?