Kalina caught the other carbine Gerard tossed before immediately handing it off to Silje, mags included. Restricted on Mist as they were, Silje would need the extra firepower more than most of the rest of the squad did. Morden was a walking tank, Justice was already used to throwing the kitchen sink at their enemies, and Kalina had access to her gunblade with the amount of Mist they could make use of right now.

She supposed she ought to be feeling some sort of way about this entire situation. Betrayed by what were supposed to be their own people? Oh, well. WARDEN indoctrination had never quite managed to have Kalina forget that she wasn't Rassvetian in the first place. Her people? Hardly. They were just the best option she had to kill Vangarites with. If they got in the way of her doing that, she'd deal with them.

"Either Veld's burned us or he's incompetent enough that someone under him sold out. We kill anyone who gets in our way, Rassvet or not." Kalina said, holstering her knife and drawing her gunblade from her Pocket before swapping the weapons in her hands so that she was holding her sword in her right and her pistol in her left. A quick check of her gunblade's chamber had Kalina swapping the usual explosive rounds out with shielding ones in preparation for dealing with more gun-wielding opponents. Against mundane humans, the explosive power of her normal rounds was overkill anyways.

"We need that spook. He's probably the only one we can get our hands on who has answers at this point."

Justice couldn't really be angry at this point. Whatever happened from here on out was going to be a mess. Really, she should have just accepted it. Live and revel in the chaos. But that would be to ignore every consequence in the aftermath. They weren't blinded by the flashbangs and that was enough for now, Justice would suppose. It was really the only thing stopping her from breaking down in a fit of violence, really.

Thankfully, a cold wave of wind washed over her. It was the mist coming back. That brief moment of unnerving peace across her skin slowly faded as whatever they used ran out.

She took an airborne rifle and some spare magazines. It would be good enough.

"I know I said anything, but don't try to kill them." Justice said as she had a brief moment to collect herself in the chaos. "I don't want to file paperwork when this is all over."

She thought to herself for a brief moment as she recognized the basics. Of course, if they took the fall for a diplomatic crisis, then that would be the most troublesome. There was no way they weren't going to take the fall for whatever was happening. Might as well disrupt their plans and just figure out what to do after.

"It should be simple. Stay alive, get the princess, and get Dirk to ask him a few questions"

---

They were moving, and the Mist was slowly coming back. It was gradual, and like Gerard had noted, there was only so much to go around. The others would, no doubt, do their own thing with it, and that was why Morden didn't use his magic. They advanced out the door, and Morden swung a left around the door, unloading a quick burst of rounds into a guy who'd crept up with the intent to drop another flashbang in. Center mass, he dropped. It wasn't a terribly devastating caliber, he'd likely be fine. Morden wheeled around and kept himself between the defectors and his squad, in true Vanguard fashion. Though, today was a day where he was only Vanguard, not Battlemage.

CLEAR.

Morden's singular method of casting a spell was to make himself stronger. To wield the Astral Mist was to drink from an ocean, and Morden was a whale among sharks. The Mist was thin here, too sparse to supply them all with what they needed for anything big. But compared to him, their spells were microscopic. If he took in Mist, he wouldn't leave enough for them to cast anything that could get them through this. Their channel would cut, and there likely wasn't even enough for Morden's spell to activate. It'd just cripple them all.

This rang of the situation with Ivan. Betrayers, all of them. What right did soldiers have to cast judgment?

Unlike before, the answer was clear enough now. It was life or death, same as usual for a soldier.

He stepped free of the doorway, and now they had a foothold. Morden pointed his submachine gun at the stairwell, inching closer to it with the squad behind him. More spooks could come up and join the fight, while they cleared this floor and hunted down Dirk. I HAVE THE STAIRS, ESCALATION HALTED. PROCEED AT WILL. It was psychic communication, but the rage in Morden's mind was as clear as any rage in his voice. Like screaming over a loud thunderstorm and being heard plainly as can be. There was a corruption snaking through the upper ranks, something that could have dismantled Rassvet from within.

And Morden wouldn't take it lying down.