T h u n d e r e r

"Of course. I would not seek to endanger the machinery. Very important, very expensive." Thunderer raised his hands with a slight wriggle to show that his gloves were indeed on, before making his way to one of the capsules that lined the walls. Giving a small nod to the people helping to maintain the systems along with Diver, he laid inside the pod with closed eyes. He'd done the simulation 100 of times by now, but he still hated to see the opening close over him when he went under. The Sarkaz was unsure if it was awakening some kind of instinctual memory or just a sense of claustrophobia but it always made him panicky. Before long, he felt the slight tingle of his nervous system being re-routed, his mind sinking away from his physical form and before long. . . he was in.

Opening his eyes, he found himself on a street near to where the action was taking place, the sounds of gunfire and crunching metal drawing his attention as he brought a hand to his ear, patching into the frequency of their communications as he strode forth.

>"Oi, occupied with armored units up here! Requesting anti-armor support!"

"Roger that. Support Specialist has arrived. Codename: Thunderer, and it's very nice to make your acquaintance. Welcome to Retra." Turning the corner onto the battlefield proper, his 'Wands' at the ready as he ran past the backline Operators to fire a rapid-fire barrage of electrical pulses at the armored Droids. While the damaging effects of his attack would be hampered by the Arts dampening field, he hoped they would still prove capable of disrupting their systems, slowing down the lumbering juggernauts enough for the others to clean them up. Along with this, rather than fall in line with the Dragoon, Chariot, and Vlad, the Supporter would keep moving to a flanking position, pacing his shots and keeping an eye on the other droids to make sure no one snuck upon him. "Armored Droids: Occupied. Length of occupation: Not very long."

He thought of saying more but hewas here to assist in a purely supportive function. Slightly irritating, given that he was certain he'd be effective in leading these forces, but that was not the point of the exercise.

Her second target fell, so she found a third. At a glance the enemy formation was breaking, some keeping stride to push after the group Mule was in and the rest stopping to engage. Her sights flickered across one of the androids keeping stride and she fired. The machine bounced left to right where it stood as consecutive impacts contorted its frame around, but before the hail of lead could lay it to the ground Mule felt a familiar bounce against her wrist, the distinct recoil of the slide locking back. A flick sent the empty magazine skittering far out to her flank. Her head came up to scan as her hand went down, forcing her pistol back down into the bars of her holster. Freed to work, she gingerly plucked a magazine from her kit and reloaded while checking her surroundings for a bit more clarity. Nine in total were bearing down on them. Thrones and Strix were doing their thing, that left hers.

"Understood. I've got this." She heard of one of the two stepping away from her, but didn't look back to check who. Her handgun clicked free of its restraints once more, drawn up to draw a bead on the encroaching droids.
"Get distant if you need to but remember I can't intercept if you're too far out." She called out, hopefully to be heard over the gunfire that ensued. She had plenty more ammunition to burn through and hopefully no one counting up the LMD in virtual reality. She stayed crouched down, far out of the way of her comrade's firing lines but a one woman shieldwall before the squadron set against them. Bullets whizzed around at ankle level as she fired into the crowd, hoping to unlimb the unarmored and potentially hobble the protected androids before the melee began.

Feral's advance was stopped not more than a few moments after it began. It seemed she had been correct; Retra did intend to plant obstacles in her way. It did not help that she had no inclination as to what the main obstacle was, either, though she could intuit that whatever signal the blinking purple drone was emitting probably wasn't good for her or her team. As she placed a hand on the hilt of her blade, two wolf-like robots seemed to drop down out of nowhere, and she grimaced. More obstacles.

But a few robots wouldn't dissuade her from her mission. Dare her as they might, the glowering red eyes of these canine drones did not stop Feral from lowering herself to the ground and, in a sudden burst of motion, rushing towards the assembled enemies. It may have been two versus one in a confined space, but she didn't intend to engage with those kinds of odds. As she approached her target, she made a split-second turn to the right and launched herself skywards with the momentum of her charge. Coupled with the power in her legs, it propelled to the blank canvas that was the alleyway's walls. No sooner than her feet touched the surface did she enact her plan.

Letting her knees bend to collect the force of her sudden lunge like a spring, she fired herself off the wall with all her might, moving above the three drones like a silver-and-black blur. As she passed above them, a single flash filled the luminescent cyberspace, and with it her job was almost done. The power of her second jump carried her all the way to the other wall, which she also bounced off of in a much like forceful manner, directing herself behind the assembled enemies this time and landing with a roll to disperse any excess momentum.

As Feral stood, she turned, facing her foes—or the foe who remained. She had drawn her sword for the briefest of seconds as she passed above them, cutting a sharp arc across the neck of one of the dogs, and carrying that arc through to lop off the antenna of the blinking drone. She expected it to suffice in killing at least the first, and disabling the second. Now just the final dog remained, and for it she prepared to strike again.

The Arts droids flipped upside down, heads dangling as the glaring mechanical eyes turned away. They could not swivel completely around on their necks, and so even as they turned in an attempt to stare down the group, they could only face the buildings on either side of the street. But even if their attacks didn't hit true...

...they would certainly terrify.

Compared to the brightness of the light being emitted, the world around the operators seemed as if to darken. A purple beam of seething, violent energy blasted out from a space mere inches in front of the Arts droids, slicing into the fake buildings. The heat of the attack itself was enough to ignite air, and the countless small explosions only made the building shatter even further. Each side of the street beside the Arts droids collapsed onto the street, raining pristine white rock-like material all over.

Chariot had only just finished cleaving the final normal droid attacking the forward group when it happened, a sudden cloud of shadows looming over her, Vlad, and Dragoon. Huge slabs were descending upon them and the two armored drones assailing Dragoon. One such massive stone slammed over the top of an armored drone, pressing it onto the ground.

The second armored droid threw a fist into the space where Dragoon was just standing, and in a blink of an eye later, something hidden within its arm units whirred and then slammed with greater force, breaking up the asphalt below its fist.

As Thunderer showed up and pelted the two armored droids still around the forward team, he foudn one of his targets suddenly obscured; the stone slab which had fallen on the aforementioned armored droid, serving as a somewhat-lucky impromptu shield against his bolts. The other one which had only just begun retracting its arm from the hole it created in the ground was not so lucky, and experienced a sudden surge in its components, jerky movements and slow movement towards Dragoon indicating his attacks were working on it.

Strix's four shots struck true, hitting each Arts droid exactly where she place the bullets, but as they continued hanging in the air -and moving- it was clear that those would not be enough to fully take them out. The bullets knocked against sturdy armor, denting their headparts but not fully penetrating. Thrones' grip on them was waning, as the scent of her own blood became more apparent.

The approaching armored droid which Strix had in the end fired upon had a chunk of its head blown away, exposing vulnerable electronic pieces hidden beneath the helm. Its lensed eye remained intact, focusing on the operator which had damaged it, and made for the ranged gunner.

Mule's steadfast gunfire dismantled two more normal droids approaching her, and further fire into the legs of the remaining four managed to dismember one of them. A leg severed as it fell to its side, relegated then to crawling along the ground with its hands, no less determined to get at her squad.

Two armored droids remained in the fight against the forward squad, one of them slowed by Thunderer's support. The other was breaking itself out of the stone prison that crumbled over it.

Two normal droids continued the assault upon the rear group, both of them quickly upon at Thunderer, though one of them could only swing at his ankles, being forced prone by Mule's dismembering shot. The third, fourth, and fifth armored droids seemed fixated upon Strix, and were just within reach of Mule, readied to trample right past the defender in their quest to pummel the gunner.

The two Arts droids heads glowed with a dwindling heat, clearly cooling down from their massive attacks.

Meanwhile...

The canines were quick to their actions, meeting Feral with near-equal speed, but far less maneuverability. As she charged, so to did they, and just after she had already leaped for the walls did they skid to a halt, swiftly turning on their four heels. Her blade struck into the long face of one of them, severing half the head and disabling it after several seconds of wobbling.

The arc also cut away the antennae, drawing out a crackling malfunction from the immobile machine. Though it still blinked and flashed, it seemed unlikely that it was still able to work. Just as soon as Feral landed, the remaining dog leaped at her with bladed fangs and a wide maw which was loaded to clamp around any limb it could find.

That's some firepower, huh?

Thrones's eyebrows lifted slightly as beams of scintillating purple shot out from the Arts droids, ripping through the buildings with such terrible heat that the air itself exploded. It was also sorta unfair that they could withstand bullets and still get off their Arts with no problem, but hey, armored robots. She'll have to keep it in mind for future encounters. Because there was definitely no chance in Hell they were going to fail.

Support came in the form of a Sarkaz. Thrones clicked her tongue; were they performing poorly enough that Diver sent one of Retra's own to help them out? Felt unnecessary, but at the same time, it was a bit irritating, being the only individual in the group with the offensive Arts necessary to easily deal with the heavily armored droids. As the sky rained chunks of steel-crushing rubble, the Sankta Caster took in a quick breath, before readjusting her gravity shackles. Suddenly, the droids were falling sideways, right underneath a thick chunk of rubble. She released her Arts moments later, and before either of them could release another crackling beam of energy, they were pulverized by their own collateral damage.

Thrones breathed again, yellow eyes alive. Her blood flowed more easily, as if whatever blocked it disappeared. Did Feral do something, or were those Arts droids the source of that? Contemplation comes later. Her blood ran hot, and she grinned, translucent rings forming over her palms again.

"Strix, deal with the normal ones. Mule, smack the Big Bobs like you wanna toss them into rubble hell."

She paused. Maybe she'll clarify.

"Because you will."

The rings became opaque, and Thrones hurled them this time, the Arts chakrams taking on the trajectory of a double helix before they turned into three. Striking the heavily armored droids, they sunk into the armor instead of break against it, and once inside, Thrones closed her hands into fists, blue veins stark against pale skin.

There was a bit of trust involved, but if Mule was as tough as a Defender ought to be, she should have no difficulty sending these lightweights flying.

Mule's tail tensed, ears standing on end under her cap as the feeling of looming danger radiated up from her gut. There was no surprise as to why when the accumulating energy of the enemy arts droids finally released itself, the concussive popping of plasma formation following the unearthly glow of raw Arts ravaging through the buildings beside them. The lack of roiling dust was about the only thing to pull her back to the notion that she was in a simulation. At the very least, the threat of those falling boulders was real.

"Heads up, debris." She spoke into the radio, standing in case the collapse spilled far enough down the road to jeopardize the rear team. That, and it was just about time. A few more shots pinged hopelessly off of the carapace of the armored ones approaching her as Mule counted down her ammo, and the steps they had before they overtook her. Between the screeches of metal on metal she took notes. No sign of slowing, no indication of an attack. The classic, suicidal rush of an autonomous opponent. It was intimidating to be faced with such confidence, but not so with a team behind her. And already, these strangers registered naturally in her mind as the fireteam.

One more shot, sprung off a shoulderplate. The rattle, and her count, told her she had four left. The defender plunged her weapon down, returning it to its holster with a brush of her jacket before she crossed to the other side of her belt. Two had broken off to engage their new comrade. Three were targets. One more step from them, and it was time. She set her foot forward, and began the counter-charge. Thrones' voice rang above the pulse in her ears. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of her tomahawk, yanking the weapon free and holding it out to her side.

With a few strides and a half-leap she evaporated the distance between them, aiming to collect the armored androids well before they crossed her defensive line. She kept stride as the rings of light passed her by, the clash coming the moment after they appeared to sink into their targets. The Defender's shield became her main arm as she sprung up and crashed the alloy plate into the trio, ramming the center body and snarling as her arm whipped out. The blunt edge of her tomahawk whistled in the air, swung wildly out to harass the left side before she turned and hammered at the right, once more boxing with the hardened face of her shield. The hand-axe did the fending, its bearded head used to ward their movements and catch their blades. Mule had to kill with footwork, dancing back to try and entertain the three of them all at once, stealing every opportunity to break forwards and put every kilo of body and gear behind the next staggering shieldblow. She'd have to see what the Arts did, but the Defender was dead set on tossing these Big Bob things around like a bunch of upjumped dolls if that's what kept them back.

"Shit!" Dragoon hissed as the aftereffects of the Arts droids' attack came crashing down towards her. She barely dove out of the way in time to avoid a slab of stone falling down on her, an armored droid being crushed in her place. The Lung spearwoman came up in a roll, only narrowly avoiding the second droid's follow-up as it revealed some sort of pile bunker attachment weapon.

God damn. These things were actually pretty serious for a Vanguard like her. Too slow to present much of a challenge to avoid, but offense against these was another problem entirely. Dragoon could dip, duck, and dodge as much as she wanted, but she didn't have enough force to pierce through the armor without lining up her strike perfectly.

Fortunately, whatever this Retra newcomer was doing slowed the remaining armored unit down perfectly enough for Dragoon to attempt such a strike. As the armored drone staggered towards her, Dragoon leveled her spear, breathing deeply before lunging forward in a single strike, aimed for where the armor plating was least thick: the droid's neck.

Wincing a bit as the bright beams scythed through the air and buildings in mere moments, Vlad couldn't help but whistle a bit at the sheer destruction two droids had caused. "Whew. This is just the start?" he remarked with a tut even as he back pedaled from the falling debris that threatened to bury the street. Packing that much firepower into a droid had to come with more drawbacks than just a bit of cooling issues, but it didn't seem they'd get a chance to find out more as Throne hurled the pair under a massive chunk of stone.

With the arrival of another Art users to support Dragoon as she weaved about in the field of raining debris, Vlad spared a moment before turning around to assist Mule in keeping the three armored off their backline. Whether it was the Art droids or Feral stumbling across the source, it felt like he wouldn't have any issues with maintaining the overclock on the other two as he moved back.

[Feral. Art droids are down.] Speaking briefly into the comms to let their lone Specialist know she'd need to pick out another task, Vlad focused on charging into the melee Mule had thrown herself into. Relying on the crashing rubble to cover his heavy approach, he noted that Throne seemed to have reduced the droids' weight with how easily the other Defender was able to push them back. With that in mind, he reached out and grasped the arm of the latest droid forced back by Mule's efforts.

Maybe if Throne wasn't messing around with it, the droid would have been able to turn this into a contest of strength. With its weight reduced at the moment though, Vlad wrenched the heavily armored robot clear off its feet and dragged it head first across the street. Twisting its arm around, he brought it back around as an improvised club and slammed it clean into one of the remaining two.

Strix rolled out of the way of an incoming piece of debris. What terrifying firepower... She composed herself and observed the remaining scene. There wasn't much left, and she easily dispatched the two normal droids assailing their new team member. With Vlad and Mule taking care of the three closest heavies, she re-positioned to get a better line on the two armored droids near Dragoon.

"Dragoon, stay low and get ready."

Strix took aim, waiting for her chance amidst the vanguards swift movements to take two shots at each of their heads, hopefully causing enough damage to disable the droids or let Dragoon's spear get in to finish them off.

Feral had little time to be satisfied with her maneuver. No sooner than she landed, the other dog deemed it necessary to descend upon her with its bladed maw snapping. Quick as it was, she was just as quick, and had the benefit of a mind with which to strategize. As it flew at her, she gripped the scabbard at her side and undid the clasp that kept it to her belt. Just as the robot moved to snap down onto her, she raised the scabbard as an offering, allowing it to crunch its metallic teeth into her sword's covering in lieu of a limb. With it busied upon the scabbard, she took the opportunity to make use of her other hand, and thrust her blade upwards from below the beast's chin. The result would be a solid foot of steel wedged through whatever counted as a brain within these drones.

Assured that a good strike through the head could disable them thanks to the earlier drone she disabled, Feral pulled her weapon from the mechanical dog's carcass and made towards the blinking drone that had caught her attention in the first place. It seemed to be disabled, but it was still thrumming away despite lacking an antenna. Another solid stab, this time one from overhead, into the meatiest part of the machine would hopefully do for a coupe de grace. Several more followed if that was not sufficient.

[Feral. Art droids are down.]

A frown spread across the Lupo's face as the communicator in her ear crackled to life. What was the point of all of this then? If her targets had already been dispatched, she was unneeded, and so she resolved to return back the way she came once all was said and done, discontent with her contribution.

Thrones' infusion of anti-gravity into the three armored drones at the forward team proved successful, and even beside the assault that Mule and Vlad wreaked upon them, were already seeming off-kilter; their footsteps found difficulty in gripping the street as they moved about and took swings at Mule. Her shield impacted into something that reflected sturdiness, but the strength required to push them back betrayed that hardened nature. The armored droids were tossed backwards onto their backs with ease, and the moment one of them had hit the ground, Vlad secured its arm, and swiftly tossed it in an overhead swing. It's own weight and the speed that it unnaturally flew it added up to a caved-in chest plate which rapidly disabled critical components of its functioning.

Another tasted the blunt steel of Mule's axehead, bending the side of an armor piece just before it too was swept off its feet. The electronics beneath fizzled and cracked, but it remained operational, leaving the rear-guard now with two more armored droids that were way in over their heads.

While Thunderer might have been able to fend off the remaining standing droid, he failed to notice the unconventional approach of the second; crawling on the ground, it chopped outwards with its arm hand, swinging a machete into the back of his calf. Before it could do more harm, Strix's keen eye saved him from losing a virtual limb. Two shots easily knocked out their core systems, and they fell crumpled beside Thunderer.

Her third strike was a master-stroke of teamwork, and perhaps a bit of luck. It slammed into the head of slowed armored drone tussling with Dragoon, knocking the head piece to the side and exposing a portion of its neck,normally hidden by a jutting piece of armor that hung from the lower side of its box-like face. Dragoon's spear found purchase in that vulnerable spot, sinking deep past a glimpse of thin armor, pistons and joints. It crackled with electricity before its knees gave way, crashing to the ground.

Strix's fourth shot impacted the other armored droid, which had only just then pushed off the slab of debris that fell upon it. Though it was dented in many parts and had sheared cuts in its armor from the heavy stone, it remained capable of standing her bullet. Yet, disoriented, its visual systems seemed to make it difficult for the robot to go straight after Dragoon.

Feral had a straight shot back to the group in the alleyway itself, which attached back to the street where the right was happening, albeit several yards behind where the debris had crushed the Arts droids. The armored drone which was approaching Dragoon had its back exposed to the Guard, unawares of her new presence.

Having exited the alleyway to the chaos of battle, it seemed that the team had managed to mop up most of their resistance in her absence. Most of it, as she came to understand upon spotting the lumbering droid to her left. She surveyed it for a few scarce, noting that it seemed too focused on Dragoon to have noticed her in turn. The armor was thick all across its body... but it seemed to have a weakness around its head and neck region. Grasping the hilt of her blade, she made a rush towards the final remaining opponent. It was only a meter or two away from her when she pushed off the ground and leapt.

Carried by the momentum of her jump, she needed only a split second in the air directly behind it to find her mark. A flash of steel saw the first few inches of her blade slicing through the gap in its armor and into the back of its "neck", likely severing whatever connections it held to the mechanical body below in one fell swoop. Not one to risk being crushed, her feet found purchase upon its back, and with a few solid pushes she proceeded to hop up from its back onto its shoulders, then forward over its head to land neatly to the right of Dragoon.

"The alleyway had some kind of transmission drone. Unsure of what it was doing. I eliminated it regardless." She murmured into her microphone while straightening herself up and tucking her sword back where it belonged.

Two left, and then they had to go.

Thrones glanced briefly at their bleeding back-up, the one that could almost have been a casualty if not for Strix's quick reflexes. Certainly made things slightly more difficult now, but it wasn't a big deal. As Feral returned, striking down the armored droid on the frontline, the Sankta Caster gathered up her own Arts to destroy the two that Vlad and Mule had crippled. Shifting the graviton Arts already affecting them, Thrones breathed deeply, feeling the heat in her brain, and increased gravity's effect upon certain, fragile parts. Black beads could be seen over exposed circuitry, before the insides of the droids collapsed upon each other, rendering them inoperable. The two hit the ground hard, sparking electrity; the fight was over.

She rubbed her nose, one eye narrowing as Feral reported on her own mission. A transmission drone? So it wasn't a system setting after all...though that just made it a fake enemy. Thrones had never heard of a transmitter capable of disrupting Arts. "Keep it up," she said, turning in Feral's direction. "Whatever those things transmits interferes with my Arts. Chariot, pick up the new person."

She looked down the street, then sighed. Just like the Laterano exercises, huh? Combat, then running, then more combat, then more running.

"Let's move fast."

Chariot had already rushed over to Thunderer's side, scrambling to look over the large gash that had cut a quarter-deep into his calf. Bending a knee beside him, the kuranta's eyes contorted into one of worry. An injury to the leg, at this time in the simulation, was probably the worst possible thing they could have experienced, save the elimination of a teammate itself.

The sky of the city boomed once more, and another red beacon rose from the horizon into the sky. A warning of impending difficulty. Chariot's eyes were cast up as the alarm droned for a brief moment, before turning back to Thunderer. She didn't have her healing Arts charged quite yet, but she was already focusing on it. They had to move, and so she opted to simply pick the poor Operator up and haul him herself.

With a quick but trained maneuver, Chariot hoisted him over her shoulders. Though they were of equal size, she didn't seem to mind the weight much as she began moving. "Sorry about this friend," she said to Thunderer. Nodding to Thrones, she began off down the street, slower than her compatriots thanks to the doubled load she had. Nevertheless, through heavy breathing and strained legs, she persevered.

The group continued through the city, after several minutes of running and jogging, checking corners and diving through buildings, they at last made it to the true skyscrapers that the Scouting team had initially observed. Indeed, numerous skybridges connected the fake city here, and once they were inside would at least shield them from the watchful eyes of gunships.

Through the doors they went, and once inside were faced with the spirit of a massive corporate lobby, as well as a set of four operable elevators at the other end of the room. No doubt with someone on her shoulders, Chariot had a definite opinion as to whether or not they should use them.

"Maximum occupancy...?" she muttered to herself, scanning over the wall where the elevator doors stood. There was nothing as far as plaques went. Another shortcoming on the computer's end. "...Alright. We should probably split up then. I don't want the simulation to decide we're too heavy with all this gear for just one car."

The sound of roaring thrusters drew her ears back to the lobby entrance. Through glass panes stretching across the entrance, the team could see what appeared to be a VTOL of some design which had suddenly descended into a controlled hover mere feet above the street pavement. Mere seconds later, five more androids dropped from the side of the gunship, landing gracefully on the ground. Without pause, they raised their weapons; firearms.

A hail of bullets stormed into the building, piercing through the glass panes and shattering them in turn.

"Get down!" Chariot yelled, dropping to her knees. Desks, short walls, and other common objects to a lobby as theirs shielded them from the gunfire that surged a mere foot above their heads. She quickly settled Thunderer onto the ground of the lobby, turning in her crouched stance to the others. The gunfire seemed as if to go unabated; they either had bottomless magazines, or they were staggering their suppressive fire.

An open lobby posed just as many problems as an open street, perhaps more if you wanted to forebode about the building coming down with them in it rather than in its shadow. She decided to worry instead about the things she could fix. Mule broke the doorway first, shield up and at the front as the group staked its way into the skyscraper's ground floor. Ten meters in and not receiving fire she stepped out to the side, reversing to face the door so that more mobile operators and their wounded could carry the pace into the room. As Chariot looked over the wall outside the promising set of sliding doors Mule crept backward, keeping the rear of the group and turning to look over the elevators herself as they all settled in.

"Might as well kill ourselves as ride separate passenger lifts up without this building cleared." Mule spoke up, looking up at the ceiling and shallowly into experience Cut cables, no guarantee the line was in service, uncertain resistance further up, there was no other way she thought to put it. "Let's poke deeper in, find the utility section, a freight..."

She cut off as the brutal concussion of jet engines echoed into the room, off streets and windows, shaking the glass fixtures through the lobby as an aircraft held off the ground outside. That was trouble enough. Mule's body spun to follow her head, shield first eclipsing her before her elbow crooked out just past its protective edge as she drew her pistol. Mere seconds for the attackers to dismount, about one for Mule to clock that they weren't already pulped by the gunship's armament. She braced her pistol and opened fire, one pane shattering an instant before the rest disintegrated under the androids' barrage.

A few impacts whistled and clanged off of the Defender's shield, projectiles glanced wide into the terrain or immediately mangled into a dangerous cloud of spall leaving distinctive black sunbursts across the armor face. She hurried off a set of shots, responding to the contact and staying out to give the rest of the group a chance to cover or retaliate before she joined Chariot in ducking down. Mule drew her arms in, crossing them defensively and angling her shield up over herself as the occasional ricocheting bullet or debris from the mess the androids were making from the lobby clanked off of her. Passing her weapon into her shield hand for a moment, she reached down and patted the scuffed extent of her jacket to make sure her earlier guess was correct. She pushed and prodded the cylinders of a few smoke grenades before putting a finger back up to the radio. No point trying to screech over a fusillade coming from so close.

"Mule here, I have signals. Unknown if enemy is on vis or IR detection, smoke available if we have a way to punch out of this. Over."

With that, she went back to her gun, twisting her wrist and sticking the handgun out over the top of her shield to blindly put a few shots on their new robotic suppressors. The last thing they needed was to go totally cold and let the enemy walk right up to them. This was the fire element, clearly, and already she turned her head to search for some yet unseen avenue that a prospective maneuver element would be using to encircle them. An offshoot hallway undefended, the very elevator shafts they had been about to survey, with their luck an IFV driven through the wall.

Really making them work for it, huh?

The pressure continued to build within Thrones. Simulated as it was, utilizing her Arts didn't give her any release, and she was beginning to feel her thoughts scatter against her skull, like pinballs against wood walls. Wasn't going to stop though. Had to maintain focus. Keep it together. Up, they just had to go up somehow.

Mule's shield gave the Sankta Caster time necessary to do a proper count. Ten droids equipped with firearms; absolutely disgusting that Retra would blaspheme the art of the controlled Originium explosion with mere machinery. No questioning the destructive power of them though; it was mercy enough that the gatling guns didn't shred what paltry furniture they had. Voices crawled into her mind. Her blood ran hot. Stop wasting time; she couldn't keep this up forever.

Translucent rings hardened over her palms.

"Ten seconds, ten droids." Thrones said to the others, one eye squinted as plaster dust burst above her. "The floor is lava."

Her heart accelerated as she dammed the building up of her Arts against her will, increasing the pressure so that it would explode.

"Carry me after this, Vlad."

And like that, Thrones stood up, thrusting both palms downwards. Her blood surged out, Arts crackling outwards as the air itself darkened from the density of her power. Immediately, the ten armed droids dropped prone, their guns unable to do anything but lay upon the ground, spraying bullets low. Even the VTOL staggered, though it had only been clipped by Thrones's Arts usage. In twenty heartbeats, she'll have to stop. In twenty heartbeats, the droids would be able to move again.

Hopefully, in twenty heartbeats, her squad of almost exclusively melee-focused operators could get the job done.

Giving Feral a nod of thanks for covering her, Dragoon yanked her spear out of the armored drone she had ran through, twirling it back around to a ready stance as she moved ahead with the rest of the fireteam.

Several minutes later, Dragoon had quickly decided that guns were bullshit. She scowled as she took cover, ducking under the withering hail of suppressive fire that was pinning the entire team down. Considering that her home nation didn't share a border with Laterano, anti-firearm tactics hadn't been covered that extensively, with the general consensus that they were just faster-firing crossbows with less of a punch. Even still, ten of these trained on her would shred her in a matter of seconds.

Thank fuck for Thrones, at least. At the Sankta's declaration, Dragoon simply buzzed her comm.

"Ten seconds to eliminate them, roger. On your go, Thrones!"

The instant the Art went off, Dragoon burst out from cover, leaping up before plunging down towards one of the gun drones. Hopefully, she'd pierce right through it, come up in a roll, and immediately move on to another while the Art was still active.

Leaving Thunderer in Chariot's capable hands as she was already next to the injured man, Vlad kept his attention on the group's surroundings as they rushed through the city. Keeping up the rear while Mule took the lead, he raised an eyebrow as they came to a stop inside one of the larger buildings in the stimulation. Keeping a wary eye towards the streets, he couldn't quite hold back a sigh as the windows started to shake a bit from the rumbling that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Not particularly keen on testing himself against vehicle mounted weaponry again, Vlad moved even as the plane dropped off the latest batch of androids. Barely making it behind a column before they opened fire and started to tear up the lobby, he sniffed for a moment before frowning. Despite how bare bones the simulation had been in certain aspects, he could still smell the distinctive tang of blood as Thunderer's injury continued to bleed.

"I've got you," he responded briefly to Thrones before wincing as part of the column exploded near his head. "Thunderer, stop making Chariot carry you." With a raised hand towards where the pair were taking cover, he clenched his fist and cut off the bleeding. Drawing his arm back, the spilled blood crept back into the injured operator before a scab formed over the slash. Chariot might be able to do a cleaner job when she had the time to, but it was enough for Thunderer to stand on his own without too much pain.

While he wasn't nearly as quick as the others, Vlad nonetheless broke cover as well towards the building's entrance. "Feral. Think you can get the VTOL with a boost?" Aside from looking around to make sure the other operators weren't running into a kill-zone to take advantage of the proned androids, he also bent down just in case she did want to make an attempt.

For the second time that day, a hail of bullets soared past Feral's head as she found just enough cover to avoid being reduced to a thin paste. She questioned just who Retra expected their operators to be facing off against with such a glut of firearms, but ideas of Laterno usurpation aside, it seemed the Lupo had something to do. Their local angel apparently had the means to suppress the enemies just long enough to close with the enemies and take them out, and as soon the the staccato of gunfire lifted, she ducked out of her cover to rush the opponents along with Dragoon and Vlad. She had every intention of scything down as many of the pinned opponents as possible in her allotted ten seconds, but the hulking Sarkaz among their group seemed to have other ideas.

Taking out the ground forces was of more importance overall, but having the VTOL able to follow them up onto the roof of the building with all its possible weaponry was not something she looked forward to facing. Deciding to play nice with her team, the silver-haired swordsman simply nodded towards Vlad, pulling her curved blade from its scabbard with a lightning quick flourish that left the head of at least one of the downed droids rolling—once it was released from Thrones' arts—across the pavement.

With her weapon drawn, she proceeded to crouch for a moment, then launched herself into a vertical jump that would land her atop of Vlad's angled shield. Coiling herself up like a spring once more, Feral eyed the shaking VTOL overhead and identified any possible handholds on the vehicle before giving Vlad the signal she was ready to be launched.

A beacon, Strix wondered what it meant for them. Were they doing well...? She continued giving directions through the streets to the skyscrapers glad to not have encountered more resistance before they arrived. They had covered a decent amount of ground, but now they were going to be fighting in more enclosed spaces once they ascended the skyscraper. But that thought would have to wait as the VTOL's approach and deployment suddenly became a more pressing concern.

Strix fired off a quick shot of her own at the droids as they deployed, not taking the time to line it up well before she rolled to cover behind one of the sturdier desks as the droids opened fire. The suppressing fire was too much for her to reliably take any more shots at them, and there didn't seem to be any openings. Shit.

Thrones voice came over the comms, "Ten seconds, ten droids.", and Strix prepared herself. She blinked, and her eyes were glowing again. The twinge of pain in her leg again. She was ready. She wouldn't miss.

Strix could feel the change in pressure Thrones exerted on the droids, and on Thrones mark she swung out from behind her cover and took aim. Dragoon was hitting them on one side, so Strix started shooting at the other side. These droids didn't seem to be as sturdy as the armored ones, so she fired as quickly as she could line up her shots. Two bullets in the first one, one to the chest and one to the head, two in the second one, and two more in a third one.