[IC] The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

[Brovo]

"I miss the Internet." -Anonymous spray painting, circa 2024.

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Prologue: Blackened Eve

---

"Ah, Colonel Black, welcome to my office, do you like the decor? I picked it out myself."
"It seems very... Lavish. Too much so for my tastes, I'm a simple woman myself, sir."
"Oh, come now, there's no need for formality here... Just call me Ryan, and put out that cigar, would you?"
"My apologies sir... Ryan, but I'm not putting out my cigar. Do you have any idea how hard these are to come by?"
"Hmph. We'll train that out of you yet, Marie. Though, to business! Yes yes. In the future... I must insist... That you... Inform me, next time, you send out our men near the Shadow Zone."
"The same could be said of you, sending out an entire mechanized battalion."
"How was I supposed to know there were anything more than vagrant mutants out there?"
"The reports I left on your desk might have helped."
"So what makes you think that this smaller squad will do anything better?"
"Well, they can't be heard clear across the city. That helps in not attracting the attention of everything that lives here that has made us their number one item on the fast food menu, sir."
"I told you to call me Ryan."
"Sorry again, sir."
"... Ah... Nevermind... You know, sending that... Harshly worded letter around to everyone and their mother about me... I'm quite offended, nay, gravely wounded you think of me in such a manner."
"As I said. Simple woman. Not much for those masquerades you choose to indulge in."
"You know... Next time... If you were a little less... Harsh... In your letters... Specifically to the rest of the council, I might be able to... Make sure you have a good supply of fresh cigars, and not that guttural crap you smoke now."
"... Is that a bribe?"
"No, no, a... A gift, an... Incentive, for future... Cooperation."
"Good. If it was a bribe, I would have had to have shot you on the spot just now... Council rules."
"Yes... Rules... Well... When you're done writing another letter that I'm sure my mother would be disappointed by, I want you to read this report... Eve is back. When your men are finished fucking around near the fog, should they survive of course, I want them to investigate this."
"Eve?... Now?... Hmph... There's something you're not telling me."
"Well, you said it yourself... I do like to indulge in my masquerades."
"Hm... I will get back to you after I finish reading this report personally, and after dealing with the raiders again."
"Fair enough. You are dismissed... Marie."
"Sir yes sir."

---

Mission Introduction--South West

---

Nathaniel, Daniel, Bruce, and Chris would be air dropped via heavily modified Chinook in the area, the Chinook first setting the mechs down, and then the four troopers, before quickly fleeing the scene. The two mechs would require about a minute of start up time, just enough time to look around while the mechs came out of sleep mode and un-compacted themselves. In fact, it was just enough time in the south western block to find the mentioned debris... And something else. Bodies. A lot of bodies, and a few wrecked tanks, a couple of demolished mechs. One of the mechs was still on fire, suggesting that combat had been recent. There was blood sprayed on several pieces of the debris, implicating that whatever had killed them had done so in a brutal fashion, likely pinning them to a piece of concrete from the fallen skyscraper and then rending them apart. One body in particular almost seemed to stare at the four of them, eyes empty.

It took several seconds for Nathaniel's mutant senses to finally pick up on the fact that he wasn't dead, only a brief moment before the body curled up into a ball and started rocking back and forth. "It came... It saw... It stared... The stares... They pierce... They make you scream... See the screams... The bodies... The fire, oh god, the fire... Every inch burned and yet refused to relinquish life... Eternal fire... Fire like hell... The eyes... The eyes..." In his state it would be remarkable if he even knew that the four of them were there, leave alone communicating with the man.

Around them were several pieces of cover they could take, though the mechs were shit out of luck unless they crouched behind debris, which would naturally block their own line of fire. In particular, there was a chunk of what might have once been an office room surviving, complete with a partially still standing wall, that had fallen with the rest of the skyscraper ages ago and survived to this day. The other area of note was a tank that looked abandoned, but not destroyed. It could provide superior cover to the random bits of concrete, and was only a few feet away from the surviving office. If one of them felt especially ballsy, they could even try to drive the tank. Chris in particular, with his CQB training, could move from cover piece to cover piece with relative ease so long as he wasn't spotted yet.

Whatever their decision, they had only a couple of minutes to make it. Within the fog, in the distance, they could hear the sound of gunfire and a few motors. Some of the battalion was still inside, and from the sounds of it, quickly making their way out while they could. Achilles Heel makes a quick flyby, examining the area, before chipping in with tactical advice for the group. "Yo! Seems y'all got two options really, y'all can move into the fog and try to surprise the enemy, course this is very risky and could backfire, or stay out here and cover those who escape, but we'll get less folks back, y'know? Up to you though. If you need me, holler, I'll be 'round as fast as I can, but not in the damned fog, no fucking way." He flies past them on his way to the south west, likely to give them the same speech before heading central so he could reposition to either side quickly if requested.

---

Mission Introduction--South East

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A second Chinook delivered Georgia, James, Roman, and Eira to their combat zone, in the South East section of town. There wasn't much to be found here, it was in fact eerily sterilized of life. No corpses, no blood, no grass, no weeds, nothing existed here save for the inorganic matter that composed the buildings and street posts. This was especially unsettling due to the fact that everything outside of the Bunker was overrun with vegetation attempting to take control back over what was once the concrete jungle of man. Mercy was also dropped off here by the Chinook, the mech would take a minute to start up, giving her enough time to take in the utter creepiness of the situation. Once they were dropped off, the Chinook quickly took off and fled the scene.

Seeing as how the streets failed to have any particularly solid cover, there was three notable areas to keep in mind here. The apartments were all, in some crude fashion, connected to one another, either because one was literally now leaning on another, or because of impromptu bridges built over time to allow travel over rooftops instead of on the significantly more dangerous streets. One of these apartments in particular was still in very good condition and had been cleared by the scouting squads, making it a prime area to set up for a sneak attack with firearms. It was four floors tall--rather short compared to most of the apartments here, but nonetheless, that was perhaps why it was in a more solid condition than the rest. The second area of note was an alleyway with large dumpsters one could hide behind located very close to the fog. It could allow the mech, a short ranged combatant, or even someone who is melee-dependent, to move in and attack the enemy leaving the fog quickly at point blank range, on the other hand, it didn't have spectacular cover, so if they were discovered before they could attack the enemy, they would be in a world of hurt.

The third area is a computer store, also in remarkable good condition. Inside the shop were several empty metallic shelves one could use for cover, or even push to the main display window to give superior cover. On the other hand, it was only two floors tall, meaning that explosives fired at the building did have a chance to knock it down if enough were fired at the right points.

Either way, as Achilles Heel makes a flyby, a bloodied man comes stumbling out of the fog. His left arm was broken and he was splattered in blood, his combat helmet did little to obscure the look of pain on his face, or his heritage: An oriental. It was likely the only explanation for how he was still alive right now despite being that badly wounded inside the fog. His shotgun was slung on his back in favour of his pistol, also giving away his grunt training. He notices the four before they could take any position, and manages a weak salute with his right arm as he continued to limp away, towards the apartment building, likely to try and get himself some cover. The radio crackles to life. "Sergeant Morai here, agh... I'm not gonna... Be too much help... I think... Most of the men inside... Have gone completely insane... Antov and Carolyn have been trying to escape the fog now. Without them, I'd be dead, they've been trying to cover the escape of the men. Close behind me should be a tank, maybe two, if we're really lucky, and then... It'll be the two of them, assuming they don't get themselves killed doing heroics... I just wanted everyone here to know that... That if Carolyn and Antov make it out... I owe them my life, and my eternal gratitude."

The Achilles Heel hovers for a moment before the radio once again crackles to life. "As I said to the South West squad, you can move in to try and get more men out, but I can't cover you and it's riskier that way despite the fact that you might surprise the enemy. Or you can stay here and I can help cover you if you need it, but we'll lose more men that way... It's up to you... Sergeant Morai, remind me, if you survive, I'll take y'out for a drink, alright?" Sergeant Morai shakes his head but doesn't respond as Captain Derek chuckles audible into the radio. "Good luck everyone." He then flies above the large central apartment complex, to hover above it, ready to provide help where needed.

---

Mission Introduction--Central

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The Chinook carrying Junko, Jenive, Kai, and Kiku, lands on top of the central apartment complex. It was ten floors tall, and gave an easy overview of both sides, though from the rooftop they had absolutely no cover, so retaliatory fire would be extremely deadly. Going inside to the ninth floor and taking a position in one of the several rooms would give vastly superior cover, but put them at risk of being attacked. The ninth floor itself had five rooms lining each side of the building, the west and the east side. There was a staircase leading down to the ninth floor from the roof as well, providing easy access. As the Chinook takes off and leaves the four of them there to get itself to safety, Achilles Heel arrives and hovers only a few feet above them. He gives them all the thumbs up to go inside. "REMEMBER! YOU CAN COVER BOTH THE SOUTH WEST AND SOUTH EAST SQUADS FROM HERE! IF THEY CAN SEE A TARGET, SO CAN YOU! THE LONG DISTANCE FIRING MEANS THAT SETUP AND AIM WILL BE CRUCIAL TO YOUR SUCCESS! AS WELL, WE DON'T KNOW THE ENEMY, THEY MAY COUNTER ATTACK AT ANY TIME! IF YOU NEED ME TO SPRAY AND PRAY A ROOM, MAKE SURE NOT TO BE INSIDE, MY BULLETS CAN'T TELL FRIEND FROM FOE!" He yells so as to be heard above the sound of Achilles Heel. "GOOD LUCK!" He yells one more time, before hovering a few feet higher so they could hear each other talk.

---

???

---

"Hmph. I feel something..."
"What is it, Michael? What do you feel?"
"... Eve... Eve is on the move, Gabriel..."
"... E-Eve?... She can't be... Eve doesn't do anything unless--"
"Unless Lilith is on the move, or Adam is awakening, I know."
"What can we do?"
"Nothing, for now. Nothing but wait and watch. She knows better than to interfere in the lives of those of the lands of Sodom... She knows just as well as the rest of us from their memories what monsters they are."
"Yes Michael, of course."
"...Gabriel... I know you love her, but don't do anything foolish."
"Michael, you are my brother, maybe not of the flesh, but of the mind, and the soul. I will follow your orders until Revelations comes to the lands of Sodom."
"Good... I knew I could trust you."

[MelonHead]

South West, Chris
Dropping onto terra-firma with a light thud, the skin-headed bruiser from England slung his shotgun into a firing position and peered across the field of battle. His eyes picking out potential cover spots with a trained precision.

What a shit hole.

Blood, dead bodies, burning mechs, it all reminded the scarred veteran of home as he quickly moved forward securing the LZ. It was one of the mutants that realised one of the dead wasn’t quite dead, but Chris had no time for a soldier who had lost his wits. He passed him by, the fog covering his movements nicely as he moved into the most forward position of all the assorted fighters, a real medley of mercenaries, just like he was used to. He was glad they were all lads, he didn’t trust no woman to be covering his back, and whatever was out there could obviously do a number on anyone unlucky enough to get caught.

When Achilles Heel chipped in, Chris was already there with his decision.

“I didn’t join this outfit to sit around.” Chris growled after his quick, professional, glance around the ruins of the battlefield. Unless one of his comrades was particularly forceful in stopping him, he would move forward using his training to his advantage, zipping in and out of cover between debris with his shotgun at the ready, as he made his way to the more solid position beside the remains of an office building, his back to the wall with a light thump as his head looked in each direction to check his position. He knew from his quick observation early on that the tank was close by, and he had already cleared a good deal of the battle field. Now he was immobile however, the sight of death all around him was getting a little unpleasant, even for him.

“Keep your eyes peeled.” He spoke quietly into his mic, listening intently before he attempted to move any further forward, he wanted to know how brave his squad was first before he made any moves on the tank. “If it’s clear I’ll get on that turret.” He told them, fairly certain they’d be able to guess he meant the tank turret, which was handily placed to lay down superior fire on anything that could be out there. His mask was stifling, but the fog was all around him, and he didn't want to be caught in it without the re-breather.

[Tempest]

Georgia Rhettland - South East Block

---

Georgia peers over the area, shuddering at the eerie lack of both flora and fauna. Carefully, she removes her sunglasses and secures them in a chest pocket as she surveys the area. This was not what she had been expecting, “Oh dear... Thomas, Carolyn, what have you two gotten yourselves into...” She unconsciously finds herself rubbing her hands over her arms where her old scars almost feel as if to be itching with an old pain. The memory of hot, burning pain and fear hit her suddenly. Quivering, she keeps her jet-black eyes trained on the cloud and the soldier who had just come out of it. “I need at least one person to come with me to provide back-up ballistics. We need information and I think Mister Morai will have plenty...”

Her fingers tremble towards her bug-mask before she switches in favor of the static-voice-projector. Already moving to follow Morai, her eyes stay on the fog. It would create a natural damper effect upon the transmissions. Chances were, anything beyond a small range would be nothing more than garbled garbage to anyone who could hear. She frowns, before the idea came. Short, simple, precise. She begins to toggle the radio on and off to follow the morse coding: 'T-H-O-M-A-S.' “You better get my message, Cara...”

Catching up to Morai, she finds herself faltering for words in the presence of the stranger who could be summarized as looking like a hot mess... All before blurting out, “Tell me what's in there.”

"... I have... No fucking clue..." Morai admits as he hangs his head in shame, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. "...Death... Endless death... All I remember clearly is... Fighting off something which... Which had a... A chainsaw... Sword..." He covers his mouth, fighting back the urge to vomit. "...My sister... She was not so lucky..."

Her mind starts to spin at the implications. A chainsaw sword?! Why had she never thought about such a thing! It would be a simple enough design to draft, she imagines, and a far more effective than what she had. Her mind starts to wander towards old novels she had stumbled upon about some sci-fi in an alternate world. She slows for a moment, suddenly distracted by the idea that it must be a cloud brought on by cultists of Chaos! Which draws her back to the lack of life around them again, “What happened here? Where are all the bodies?” She shudders at the vivid images spinning in her head about what cultists must be doing with the dead.

"Here?... I don't... I don't know..." Morai says as he shakes his head. "I ended up separate from everyone else running away... Had to double back, ended up here instead of south west... I don't take it any of them made it huh?..." Where most men would succumb to panic or sorrow, his eyes remained simply empty, devoid of any significant emotion or even a spark of life. "Probably... Bodies just... Scattered everywhere..." His radio comes to life along with Georgia's. Morse code returned: C-O-M-I-N-G.

“Alright, alright,” she looks at his wounds and winces. “Look, let's get you to cover, Mister Morai,” she shifts her assault rifle into her hands, “I'll check you over, slap on a few sticky-bands... But, Mister Morai, can we trade out? I like the boom-blastin' a bit more given the close-quarters.” She holds up her Standard Issue with a hopeful look.

"No. This is all I have left of my sister..." He says, before mumbling one final part. "And me..." He loads the next shell with a pump of his shotgun. "I can't move very far, but... I could cover anyone in the apartment from trouble. Just... Find me a corner and lay me down, patch my wounds... I'll do my best." A little bit of fire was back in his soul it seemed. "Besides, you're a listener... I don't think they train you to handle shotguns."

“Ah, guess you're right, Mister. I'd probably start up the space program again if I tried to shoot that thing anyways,” she winks and gestures with her gun to the apartment, “If you can keep a place secure, I'll direct anyone we come across your way. Give you some buddy-ups, a good rendezvous and a place for all of us schmucks to fall-back if we're smartin' bad.”

"If we're falling back, we'll all die... We tried to retreat... They showed no mercy... They cut us down... They knew exactly where we were going, and when... They came like angels of death... And all we could do was die." He checks the ammunition in his pistol, then nods. "I'll live as long as I can without medical aid, obviously." He chimes in with a bloody grin.

Georgia gets a big childish grin on her face, “Good on ya, Mister Morai. But, if you make it and I don't, I bestow upon you my left boot.... And let me tell you, that's my favorite one.” She nods assuredly, before patting on him to start moving, “Right, enough jack-jabbering, we're gooses out here.”

"... Huh... So you must be the odd friend Carolyn talked about... Duct tape huh... Real clever..." He chuckles, then coughs up a little blood. "...I got a few minutes left... Maybe a couple hours..."

“Don't worry. The stick-silver will fix that. It fixes everything," but the worry was still clear in her eyes.

[Jorick]

South-West Block - Nathaniel

---

Nathaniel stood looking down at the babbling man, a faint smile on his face. Clearly this one had been a sinner and a weakling, one who tried to step into the divine and was repelled by its guardians. Sinners could be redeemed, but only if they had the strength to fight for their life. This one had not been strong enough, and Nathaniel would offer no comfort to such a man. Nathaniel heard Captain Derek's explanation of their options as he turned away from the madman, but he didn't pay them much attention. His eyes were on the fog, the beautiful, glorious fog, and the signs of battle within. Perhaps some people pure of heart were inside, or maybe they were sinners who came to fight for their absolution and were more or less succeeding. Whichever one it was mattered naught to him, for all who survived would be cleansed and come out as equals.

After the Achilles Heel flew away, something the Captain had said wormed its way up into his mind. They could go into the fog? The skin on Nathaniel's arms writhed, the parasites beneath seeming to pick up on his excitement. Dare he enter the kiln of his own divinity so soon? He was not yet omniscient so he had no way of knowing what would happen if he did, but... The writhing of his skin subsided. Nathaniel felt it deep within himself, a rock-hard certainty that this was the proper path. He had come to be tested and tempered in this holy forge, to be molded into the seed of godhood before shedding his mortal form and ascending to his rightful place in the heavens, so obviously he was meant to go in and start the process now.

Chris, the bald one, spoke up about not wanting to sit around. Nathaniel silently concurred, and decided the man was probably a sinner but that he had a good chance of having the strength to earn absolution. As the man continued to talk, Nathaniel made sure his gas mask was in place and secure, and that his gun was ready to go. He wasn't very familiar with the thing, and sometimes he still forgot to flip the safety off, so he triple-checked it to make sure everything was in working order. By the time he was done, so was Chris with his talk of some turret. Nathaniel wasn't sure what a turret was, but he figured the man knew what he was about. He took a moment to collect himself, to get his thoughts more in line with those of the average mortal, before he spoke up.

"I think we need to move forward. Our objective is to save those who braved the fog, and they're in there fighting. Maybe the biologist or the pilot are in that mess right now and may die without us. We can't risk that. I'm going in, and all of you should too, but I won't fault anyone for fear in the face of this danger." With that Nathaniel moved forward, gun held at the ready, and made for the tank to use it as cover and plan out his next move. He would go from cover to cover moving forward as best he could, on the lookout for danger and ready to fire at anything that came at him with hostile intent, until he could meet up with the survivors inside.

[Raen Elvarasi]

-

[Kadaeux]

South-West Block - Brucey

---

Bruce looked around at the wasteland in his pilot suit wearing the sunglasses and felt an almost reverence. So much fire had swept through here. He felt the Ignis Dei respond to the challenge that was unuttered to any of his companions. Such glorious incendiary destruction was a call to Brucey's heart. Jacko bounced next to him and looked up at Brucey with a glance that he couldn't help respond to before hopping over to the poor bastard who's mind was gone. "Poor son of a bitch. He couldn't handle the sight of divinity. Now his mind is gone." Bruce said more to himself than the others as he unholstered his pistol.

"Have the peace the world denied you." Bruce said before shooting the man in the head. Turning around the man forgotten he picked up Jacko and clambered into the Ignis Dei the Wallaby placed in a pouch-like basket intended for the little feller. Without further ado he brought the rest of the systems online and engaged a quick systems test of the gyros and weapons before he plugged in the hard drive into the jerry-rigged loudspeaker system. He called up one of the songs from its memory.



The track began to blare from the loudspeaker as Brucey engaged his comms with the unit. "Ignis Dei hears the call to battle. Fear? Nathaniel. There is nothing to fear. The fire gods have touched this place. It is time for the Ignis Dei to return their challenge. We have a job to do, and we wouldn't be doing it if we hung out here for a wank." Without further ado Bruce engaged full combat stride towards the Fog. There was no need to sprint. He would give the Ignis Dei her due.

[LimeyPanda]

Daniel Anders

---

Heathens. Why did he always have to serve alongside heathens? He wouldn’t have minded if the devil-coaxings bastards were all just ignorant of the faith, at least that was excusable. Instead, two of the men had strange delusions of grandeur and one even worshipped fire as some base, false idol.

He was already inside his mech, activating various launch protocols when the fire-heathen delivered a mercy kill to the babbling man. “Deus animae tuae misereatur” -God have mercy on your soul. It was of ill-consequence to God what Daniel said, but the thought that at least one prayer might tip the scale in the man’s favour was comfort enough for him.

His start up protocols were all-but-finished when he noticed the advancement of the two on-foot soldiers. One was rushing towards the tank like a bat out of hell and the other was moving towards it also, albeit it a much slower pace. The zealot rolled his eyes with a disappointment masked behind thick layers of armour. Inside his mech, he was away from the idiocy and behind the wheel of the monolithic ‘Crusader.’ The purging fire and the righteous fist of god, all ready and waiting for Daniel’s tender caress. He felt an excitement surge through him, when a moment of foresight reached him. Picking up the radio, for he knew he wouldn’t be heard over the din of the fool-pilot Brucie, he decided to open comms with everyone, not just his team. “Don’t forget your gasmasks. Not even a mech-suit will keep you safe from the smog, and I’m sure none of you want to see your insides.” Closing off his coms, he then tuned the radio into Achilles’ frequency. No doubt he’d be calling on the cocksure pilot before long: his fellow soldiers were the loudest, after all.

Daniel waited at the back of the group, a shepherd amongst sheep. He could almost taste the attack coming as he donned the gas-mask. Inside his mech, he had a number of hours, should he seal the airlock. Wearing the mask was a protection against faults though, and while god protected the faithful: it was the faithful’s job to protect themselves a little.

With an attack imminent, and at least two people being too stupid to keep themselves safe, Daniel waited to see who would need his assistance first. He manouvered the mech behind a central piece of cover, crouching it down and providing at least moderate protection while waiting for the first cry for help. As Jesus watched his disciples, Daniel would watch the idiots and await the wolves to come.

---

Kiku

---

The air felt funny. Not to her hands, or anything: Kiku was more than aware that the air would only feel this way to her because of the small spines of her back, ever ‘tasting’ the air; sensing what would come from where and when. They were safety mechanisms: they kept her safer and she was happy to have them, even if a few had found the protrusions grotesque.

’Not that I care. They’re all dead!’ She giggled a little at the realisation that the only people alive who’d seen her back spines could be counted on her fingers. There was Col. Black, who found her in the pits, half-naked and covered in blood, then there was the doctor… Whos-a-ma-call-it. The cute guy who served in the second ring of the bunker with the cute little dimples when she tickled his chin.

...Shame about the whole wife thing, she might have paid him another visit, if he didn’t mumble that little detail in his sleep.

Her radio grumbled to life a second time: First was the cute-Chinook pilot, who was full of almost endearingly copious amounts of self-confidence, who shouted out options and instructions. The other message came from some other, older guy. She hadn’t really paid much attention to his name, but the advice was sound...Was it meant for her? She had admittedly forgotten about the gas-mask though, and upon hearing the advice, she put it on. It wasn’t like she needed her nose to sniff things out.

Turning to the rest of the group, she saw: a guy with a fancy sword-which she totally didn’t fantasize about stealing-a chick who looked like a badass ninja lady and another girl with a bitchin’ sniper rifle. She didn’t fantasize about stealing that one though...She sucked with sniper rifles. “So which of you th-ohmygod my voice sounds funny in this thing.” She giggled at the sound of her own muffled voice, resounding through the gas mask. The giggle sounded like a sick gurgle, compared to the normally whimsical laughter of the listener. “So as I was saying. Which of you guys are good at shooting? I’m basically ass when it comes to long range fire, so I’ll probably watch yo’ booties by guarding the stairs. I’m pretty good at sensing things coming too, so that means I don’t have to worry about fucking up the shooting...Yay.”

She looked at the group with a smile, unaware that the gasmask, as well as the left side of her face, had started to match the dark skies behind her in an active shift of her camouflage ability. The other side of her face had faded out the mask, but kept her unblemished skin clear and visible: which revealed the almost innocent smile matched with murderous eyes.

Kiku liked this job a little too much.

[GreenGoat]

Central Apartment Complex

Junko Heizen

---

"What? Its the truth. Its part of my life, as it is yours."

It was one of those days, suicidal missions for pay most of them wouldn't live to see. The helmet she wore looked comically oversized on her head, and the combat vest reached almost to her knees. It was the day of her 11th winter.

"You die, and people will scavenge your stuff later. Ain't much use to you if yous dead. And in the middle of the zone like this?" The haggard looking mercenary still managed to give a sarcastic sort of flourish to the surrounding area, though his legs were blown clean off and his stomach sporting a large wound. The alley they were in were littered with bodies, both from their side and the enemy, but at least it was secure, for however long the front line held. "There ain't no one here to play doctor, so don't even try to coax me with that 'yer gonna make it' shit."

"I had a shitty life. Shitty, but the only one worth living. Ain't gonna live like them cows hiding in their holes."

He smiled.

"So kid, take up that gun and shoot me."

***

She opened her eyes to the drab interior of the heli, the drone of its propellers a dull background noise barely noticed. A moment of confusion hit her before she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Dozed off during the uneventful flight, and had a moment's dream. A dream of old memories.

Another day, another contract, and more to do for Junko Heizen. What she had accepted seemed to be a simple support mission however. \. A simple go in, clear the area, provide support fire, and then haul ass back to HQ. Though its never that simple. The least of their worries would be mech grappling all the way up and shooting a stream of lead their way. The worse would be a brutish mutant who could take a heavy tank's shell to the face and grin.

Her mind was still on other thoughts as they reached the destination and disembarked, soon after being offered some sort of advice on the mission. She didn't get much however, for as soon as she was on solid ground she had her pistol out, scanning the area for sudden ambushes.

“So as I was saying. Which of you guys are good at shooting? I’m basically ass when it comes to long range fire, so I’ll probably watch yo’ booties by guarding the stairs. I’m pretty good at sensing things coming too, so that means I don’t have to worry about fucking up the shooting...Yay.”

Junko pulled back the slide of her pistol, giving it a quick glance before letting it go, "We have the sniper rifles." Her accent, though light, was still thick enough to almost turn 'we' into 've'. "We have the good aim. I think her too." She gestured towards the only other person holding a sniper rifle. It hit her just then what was wrong with the current scene. One of her squadmates was missing half her face, and the other was just plain missing. It was fascinating to say the least, for she had not the chance to examine a mutant properly before. A mutant in a murderous rampage would hardly stop so one can take a proper gander at them.

Realizing she was staring, she tore her eyes away. "We should clear the ninth floor before we try to support the other teams. Very nasty surprises may be in wait if we don't."

[PCSutfin]

South-East Block: Roman Cassidy

Roman Cassidy stood silent, motionless, before the vacant street. He let the emptiness of it all fall into him, like a strong wind through a small tunnel. The days of sneaking up to raider camps in the wilderness were gone, replaced by open conflict in a concrete jungle that bore no fruit and housed only the type of life that breeds death. Roman breathed deeply, considering the words of Captain Derek, weighing the options. "As I said to the South West squad, you can move in to try and get more men out, but I can't cover you and it's riskier that way despite the fact that you might surprise the enemy." Riskier with a chance of death and the saving of lives. But what was the alternative in a mission like this?

The Black Viper and his apprentice kneeled behind a fallen log and watched the raiders of a nearby camp laughing as their leader beat a child. "Fight back, ya little monsta!", he yelled, pushing the boy to the ground. Roman was simply waiting for the right time to move in for the attack, wondering whether it would be after the raider had finally beaten the boy to death or if they'd have to watch them mutilate and string up the body. He barely noticed the Viper getting up.

Roman pulled the old man down. "Whatchu doin?", he whispered. "They'll spot ya! We need to be more careful than that."

The Viper pushed him aside with a confused look. They were now companions, but had no sense of comfort or trust yet. The Viper and Roman didn't even really know each other. Maybe they never would. Almost silent, he whispered back "I'm sure your own camp had hostages. Women, children, cripples and old men like me. What did you do to them after you killed your old raider friends in their sleep?"

Emotionlessly, Roman responded. "Killed 'em, too. Didn't let any of 'em wake up. I saw what my father did to 'em, knew that they'd probably starve without captors anyway. Did 'em a kindness."

Obviously holding back anger, the Viper looked to the raiders so he wouldn't have to look at Roman. The boy was curled up in the fetal position, trying to just take the hits in the hopes that the raider would stop kicking him. "Who do you think we are doing this for? Me? You? The Raiders? I hurt bad men so good people do not get hurt by them. Understand?" The Viper looked back at Roman, the eyes of a man wondering whether he'd made a mistake by taking a young raider as his apprentice. "Understand." With that, he ran forward, shotgun in hand, directly into almost certain death. After a moment, Roman unholstered his pistol and ran in after him.

"Or you can stay here and I can help cover you if you need it, but we'll lose more men that way..."

Roman breathed out. His decision, like many before it, had been made years ago by another. He turned on his radio. "Cassidy here. Sergeant Morai can't be the only soldier still alive, but may become the sole survivor if we don't move now. I'm going to the alley by the fog. Come with me or cover the Sergeant." And with that, he ran along the side of the road towards the alley.

[Holmishire]

Eira, Mercy. South-East block.
Mech pilot: Medium armour, 2x.50cal, jets & supportsys.

---

Pressing her fist onto her chest, she closed her eyes and listened to her heart beating. No matter how long she had spent training, nothing could relieve the pressure she now felt on the field.

Already strapped into her cockpit, and having run the diagnostics, Eira booted up Mercy. The groans of his steel and his gentle vibrations soothed her somewhat, but not nearly enough. She was scared. Thankfully, she had learned not to let her fear affect her concentration; if anything, it gave her more control over herself.

Taking the controls in her clammy hands and bracing herself, she took control of herself and of the metal warrior she manned.

At a light jog, she made her way towards the alleyway and cautiously joined Roman, guns at the ready in case of hidden enemies.

Clearing her throat, she activated the radio comm. "When the enemy approaches," she said to Roman, "give me some time to draw their attention. That way you can get in close and take out targets better suited to your size."

[Heyitsjiwon]

South East - James

This place was simply... strange. Yes, the buildings were not in perfect conditions with various levels of decepitness, but in most urban neighborhoods, at least in New York, there was some sort of overgrowth. Grass typically grew through numerous cracks in the road and side walk and it was not uncommon to see vines climb up buildings. Simply, nature was left to consume all that and tried to pave over it. However, this street was bare of vegetation, and it bothered James. Then there was that fabled fog. The so called Dark Zone. He had been briefed about supposedly what the fog can do to people and what lived in the fog. Still, words can not compare to the actual thing. A wall of mist, smoke, or whatever one would call it was simply there. It looked like it was barely moving, but apparently the fog had been making steady advances as of late. This unsettled James even more. Chemical warfare was not something that he was used to. In fact, this was the first time in his life that he was going to have to use a gas mask. He was not exactly sure how the gas mask works to prevent gas from entering his lungs, but the officers assured him that it would help him for a little bit. Thus, James had to have faith. He had to have faith in science that they made his equipment work properly. He also had to have faith in his officers that they were looking out for him and telling the truth.

Thus, James took one last breath through his mouth and donned the mask. Who knew what the fog would do. It could potentially move up 100 meters in a second randomly. So, it was better to be safe than sorry. James took himself and began walking to the apartment. He then said into the radio "I'll be taking up a position in the apartment. Not much of a fan of fighting so close to the enemy. So, I guess I'll be giving you guys on the road some support fire, and keep the Sergeant some company. I've got a rocket launcher with two rounds, so if you need a heavy punch, then let me know. Also, if it comes down to it, then I can give you guys some covering fire if you need to fall back. Although, I'm not sure how much I can suppress the enemy just by myself. Sergeant, I'm going to trust you to keep things from sneaking up behind me. Can you keep contact with me in every 30 second interval? I don't want you to go quiet on me all of sudden." James then took up a position at a window that oversaw the street with his assault rifle. He took care to hide in the shadows that the building provided so that something from outside wouldn't be able to see his easily. Finally, he lifted his rifle and began scanning the fog with his thermal scope, hoping to get a glimpse of anything coming in this direction before it left the fog.

[Brovo]

"So kid, take up that gun and shoot me." --Nameless Mercenary, Page 1.

---

South West

---

As Chris moved from cover point to cover point he would notice no sign of enemies in his immediate location, but plenty more corpses and body parts. If there were any enemies among the dead here, he wouldn't be able to tell anyway, one would muse to themselves. After all, the corpses of mutants could just as easily be BCSEC forces. As he reaches the tank he would be pleased to discover that the fog hadn't actually encroached the tank, though it was very close to it--merely a few feet away. Though, he wasn't quite as fortunate with the tank turret, or really, with the tank. He quickly discovers why it was abandoned here: While the treads were functional, the tank gun had been bent downwards just sufficiently so as to make firing it impossible, and the 50 calibre turret had been ripped from the hatch. Along with the upper half of the person who had been manning it. Inside the tank controls still looked like they worked, though, and the treads were undamaged, so far as he could tell with his limited knowledge.

Beyond that he didn't really discover much else, though he had a chilling feeling, looking at the fog. The hairs on his back would stand on end, and his primal instincts urged him to flee. Something very disturbed was coming this way. That much he knew.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, felt his parasites all quiver in unison for a moment before going silent. They had done this before, usually when he would try to sleep, but this was different... He felt something... Warm. Something comforting, compelling, the soft grasp of a beautiful woman. His mind immediately recognized it as a psychic emanation from a powerful creature, and one not hostile towards him to boot. Whatever it was approached, and while he too had the hairs on his back stand on end, they it didn't bother him. Then, he heard it, a lovely voice, sensual and yet innocent, pure as the light of the sun. "Someone important to you is trapped in an APC... Just a small way inside... If you do not go now, he will die... I cannot save him, but you need to, to understand your fate."

While the presence remained, the voice crept away. It was almost as if he was being watched--no, as if they were all being watched, and judged.

As the Ignis Dei passes Chris and Nathaniel on its way into the fog, a tank rolls out of the fog. There were burn marks from acidic chemicals, and what looked like a single, very messy cut into the armour, that had blood sprayed all over it. Inside the cut one could see two people in the tank and one corpse. Nobody was on the turret, though from the blood spray across the hatch, it was very plain and clear what had happened. The tank steers out of the way of Brucey and stops, the tank turret rotating until it was pointing at the fog. The radio comes to life. "HEY! Is this thing on? Hey, hey--ladies, look, there's an APC in there, it has a biologist named Annie, you need to go get him. He is panicking and he won't leave the APC. We're holding it as best as we can, but the only reason we have lasted as long as we have is because of some... Woman, in blue clothes. Look, just go, hurry, get the biologist, and get the fuck out of there. We'll follow you in... Oh, and my name's Sergeant Donovan, but most just call me Donnie." He waves through the tear in the tank, gas mask on, at Chris and Nathaniel. "GO GO!"

---

South East

---

Georgia Rhettland manages to reach the apartments with the badly wounded Morai with surprising ease. There were no signs of life or monsters inside that one could tell at first glance, at least, none that wanted to attack two people, and quick enough, three. Georgia would also find at a quick glance that Morai's wounds, as bad as they were, could be fixed with a first aid kit to help him last several hours--the main issue being open, bleeding wounds could be stopped so long as he didn't try anything too strenuous afterwards, like running. His arm, however, remained pretty permanently broken, in six different places. The fact that it was still attached was either a miracle or intentional--that whatever had him in its grasp wanted him to suffer before he died, perhaps, and yet, he was taking the pain abnormally well.

The interior of the apartments was nothing special. There was a staircase both outside and inside to get to the other floors, which were lined with bachelor suites. The room Morai ended up pushing himself into was filled with children's toys and looked recently lived in--teddy bears and tops, and colourful, shiny things were abound here, and yet, no sign of anyone who was living here. He scanned the area with his pistol before he allowed himself to slump down against the wall beside the door. He winces in pain, then puts his pistol down on his lap and reaches for his radio. "Sorry stranger, I don't... Really... Have much of... Anything left to cover you. Don't depend on me. Depend on your allies... You came with three, don't be alone, work with them... Trust me, I've been doing this longer than you."

As James looked through his thermal scope in a different room from Morai, he would see a tank moving through the fog. It was going to clear it in a few seconds, and there were several people riding it... Something big was following them. Something four times the size of the tank, he watched it grab someone from the tank and within moments the two thermal signatures became indistinguishable. Whatever happened was likely unpleasant, though. Either way, he had a shot at the creature, though he would risk hitting the tank.

Roman and Eira would hear the tank coming and watch it burst out of the fog, over a half a dozen people were riding on top of it, most trying to huddle themselves to the front without falling over it. Only one still had their gun, a standard issue rifle, and she was trying to unjam it. A single glance would reveal her to be a pilot, wearing a technician suit with... Duct taped elbows and knees, and around the waist, the jump suit was two sizes too large overall. Roman would get a good enough glance at the woman to realize that it was Carolyn. "This is Antov inside the tank!" All the radios in the south west and central blared to life with a Russian accent. "Mechs are lost, being pursued! Anyone outside, open fire on this thing, or we're all going to die!" Trailing the tank was now the apparent reason for its slower than usual speed: Gasoline was leaking out from the tank. It was likely almost out of fuel from the sounds of the engine whining in desperation.

As for the creature that followed them, it was large, with grey skin and muscular beyond all reason. The arm of the person who had been dragged off was quickly being dragged underneath the skin of the creature--absorbed, it seemed. It had no discernible face, but had four large limbs, each with a pair of eyes, along with a pair of eyes on its chest, though, none of them were human eyes: They were merely black, like those of a spider. All the mutants in the area would feel a sense of extreme dread and almost a bit of sickness run through them at the mere sight of it. If it had any weaknesses beyond simply needing to be shot at repeatedly, there was no apparent signs of it.

One of its eyes on its chest had been shot out, likely by Carolyn.

The only advantage they all had was that the creature had not yet noticed them all. Roman and Eira could attack it from the flank or from behind, if they wished, even.

Finally, a woman's voice came across, loud and clear, and both Jenive and Georgia would immediately recognize it as Carolyn. "Fire at its legs! It regenerates but you can slow it down long enough to let everyone get inside the apartments here! HURRY!"

---

Central Apartment

---

After all this was said and done, Jenive looked to her compatriots. She had been silent the whole time, checking over her equipment, making sure it was all functional and letting them all get acquainted with one another. Her eyes open widely at the sound of Carolyn's voice, and she quickly looks to her squad mates, who apparently hadn't already moved inside the building yet. For a moment she hesitates before she finally gets a plan together in her mind. "Look, I don't all your names, but... My name is Jenive. We have to act now. Junko, you and I need to set up on the roof here and try to slow that creature chasing the tank down. Maybe it has giant eyes or something we can shoot at... You two," She points at Kiku and Kai. "Get downstairs and start clearing the rooms together, you both look like you can handle yourself in a close quarters fight. When the rooms are clear, call me and my friend here down. I'll go with..." She mulls it over in her mind a moment, before pointing at Kai. "You, once you've cleared rooms, and the other sniper can go with you." She then points at Kiku. "Unless there's any objections, lets do this now, before everyone dies." She nods, uncertainty in her eyes. She wasn't made to be a leader, but, it seemed appropriate this time. Thus, without any further hesitation, she moves to the edge of the roof and starts setting up her sniper to fire by next round. With her training, if the creature attacked anyone, she would have a very brief chance to save them.

As for the top floor, there wasn't much to say about it. There were five rooms on each side--easty and west--they were bachelor suites, each with a balcony that the snipers could shoot from with safety. None of them seemed particularly out of the ordinary, being coated with dust, and the occasional signs of mold here and there from not being maintained. If there was anything there, it was likely in hiding, waiting for them.

[Tempest]

Georgia falters for a moment. Every bit of her being was screaming at her to go save her best friend. She takes a deep breath and turns back to Morai, drawing out her first aide kit. "No, Mister Morai... It's gonna be dandy-well." She gets down beside him and breaks open the kit, the duct tape looking too tempting. But the stick-silver wouldn't stick with all that blood. "I'll help you, and then we'll go over to James. We'll help him help Carolyn... There's enough of them to slow it for now..." She draws out the gun of squeezy super glue for battlefield sutures and starts to seal up the wounds. Stop the blood. Bind the wounds. echoes repeatedly in her head. Words. Ingrained from her own injuries. That's what they said to get her home...

Sergeant Morai winces in pain as she does her work. "Go help..." He mumbles as he looks around the room. He didn't like being useless like this, that much was for certain.

She cringes and looks at him with wide eyes, switching to the bandages to start wrapping the injuries, "I will. But I need you and James together. You can keep him safe when I go help..." It was apparent she was scared and worried, "No one should ever be alone out here... So... Enough to get you going... Then I'll go help... It'll be quick... Not enough to... to..." She chokes up and starts picking up her pace.

Morai grabs her hand for a moment and stops her, staring at her. "Calm... Then you can help, and I will go back up the other... Fellow."

Georgia fidgets for a moment and nods, taking a deep breath, "Right... Right... Thomas would tell me the same thing..." She frowns and grabs the duct tape, "Come on, almost done, then we'll go help..."

"... Thomas?" He mumbles questioningly before looking at the duct tape and cringing preemptively. "Ó, mā..."

"My big brother... You'll meet him... He was with Carolyn..." she takes a deep breath and starts to do a final bind on the wounds to try and give him a little more room before the impromptu sutures start bursting.

"Ah..." He mumbles as he quietly checks his pistol over. He looked at her sympathetically, realizing he was very probably dead. "Perhaps..." He takes a raspy deep breath. "Go, and take this." He pulls a small syringe out of his pocket. "Combat drugs... Might help. Make you faster, stronger... Addictive if you take too many, but this is my last one... Leave the kit with me, I can do the rest on my own, now go."

She nods and takes the syringe from his hands, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth. A sharp fear comes over her at the idea, but it would help. Thomas wouldn't be scared of the needles and neither would Carolyn. With a whimper, she jams it into her arm and pushes the plunger in, in one swift motion. Her breath quickens and grows shallowly before she rips it out and throws it away, "H-hate the poke-needles," she moves to her feet and pats Morai on the shoulder, "Take care, Mister Morai. I'll come back to help. With Carolyn, and Thomas, and all the others."

"We will see... Remember... Jump into a building. It's big, your not." He waves her off with a heavy cough. "Go."

She grins childishly and nods, going out through the window and racing out to where she would be noticeable to all those eyes and have a clearer shot. It had a lot of eyes, and one of them had looked injured despite the message it could regenerate. Quivering, she shouts, "HEY STINKBRAIN!" She takes the assault rifle firmly in her hands and aims at batch of the eyes before squeezing the trigger for a small burst.

[PCSutfin]

South-East Block: Roman Cassidy

As the grey Goleyeith stood before him, Roman felt a sense of dread he hadn't since his childhood. The overwhelming threat, the preemptive sense of defeat, the hopelessness. This monster was nothing like the raiders or highwaymen he hunted down in Europe, but it did remind him of another unstoppable beast form his past: John Cassidy, his father. But someone was able to stop John Cassidy, and the same man would stop the Goleyeith.

This would require a different approach, one that Roman was not used to. The soldiers needed to be protected, and so the Goleyeith needed to be distracted. The center of attention is usually a distraction for Roman to take advantage of when going in for the kill, not the role he filled. But this wasn't a raider camp being assaulted in the dead of night, it was a warzone. Roman decided to follow Morai's advice and looked to his most nearby partner. Quietly, he gave his companion direction. "Eira, we need to confuse the Goleyeith. Move to another position and start shootin'!" Looking down to his shotgun, he considered whether he should remove the silencer to create more chaos for the Goleyeith. Before he could decide, a voice from the apartments got his attention.

"HEY STINKBRAIN!" A third soldier was preparing to attack the Goleyeith as well.

Being shot from three different sides was enough to make sure the monster would reconsider its priorities, but would it be enough? Maybe what they needed was an act that would take the Goleyeith's ability to choose out of the equation completely. Grabbing his radio, he gave a warning to his fellow soldiers. "Flashbang incoming! Cover your eyes!" Taking one his his two flashbangs and pulling the pin, Roman took a moment to aim and tried to throw it directly between the Goleyeith and the tank before closing his eyes.

[Jorick]

South-West Block - Nathaniel

---

Nathaniel needed no encouragement from the man in the tank. This was what he had been born for, after all. The woman in blue must have been the one who spoke to him. Nathaniel was sure that she had spoken only to him, as the others had not reacted to it at all. He couldn't be sure what she was, perhaps an angel sent to guide him, or perhaps a pure soul who knew his destiny and worked to see it fulfilled, or maybe something else entirely. There was no mistaking the purity and goodness in her voice though, so he had no fear or worries about the strength he had sensed from her. The one thing he could conclude was that if this benevolent power wanted Annie rescued, and said that he was important to Nathaniel's fate, then the biologist must be saved without hesitation.

Nathaniel hurried onward toward the fog as soon as Sergeant Donovan finished his spiel and ordered them onward, heart beating rapidly. He said nothing to his comrades about the woman's words, for they had been meant for his ears alone. The sergeant's talk of the woman in blue being an ally would have to suffice to convince the others not to attempt to harm her, though Nathaniel suspected she could protect herself without much trouble if need be. He abandoned his previous plan to jump from cover to cover in favor of reaching the APC as quickly as possible.

"I'm going in, don't fall behind." Nathaniel spoke to the others through the radio as he neared the fog. He held his gun at the ready, prepared to fire at anything hostile that reared its head. "Onward to glory!" With that he plunged into the fog, no hesitation or fear present in his mind.

[MelonHead]

South West, Chris
Chris swore as he took in the ruins of the tank from his new position, though he supposed it didn’t really matter as it was all quiet on the South Western front for now. Things were pretty strange out here, and the fog seemed to be closing in, as if it were a living organism itself.

Holding the edge of his cover with his shotgun at the ready, he let his allies catch up long enough that the mech playing music actually had time to overtake him, before it was confronted by an allied tank diving out of the fog. Unsurprisingly, it looked like it had been through hell, and they threw their radio on almost the moment they arrived.

Biologists, woman’s name, in an APC, blue lady, don’t shoot them, hurry, got it. Chris slung past his cover, prepared to blast away anything lying in wait which might have been sneaking up on him. Presuming he was clear, he then quickly strafed to the tank, finding it increasingly unlikely that they were going to be shot with the fog just ahead of them and obvious mutant activity being prevalent in the area.

Then, Nathaniel decided to grow some real big balls and charge forward, and Chris was forced to consider his options.

“Fuck it, I want that bonus.” He cursed quietly. “Covering you.” He said a little louder to Nathaniel as he ploughed on ahead. The Grunt pursued his mutant comrade a few meters to his right and behind him, though he made slightly better use of cover on the way to the APC (and relied on his superior conditioning to keep up) and prepared to shoot any bodies which moved a little more than usual, as well as anything that wasn’t them or a mech.

[Kadaeux]

South-West, Bruce



Bruce found himself as he moved into the fog the initial battle rush settling as his own Australian instincts began to take over. Something about this wasn't right. He moved in the direction the Sergeant indicated as he expanded his situational awareness beyond his primal need to find something to burn. Despite his music Bruce was now working to attune himself to the accompaniment of the battlefields music. The sound of burning bodys, screeching of metal on metal.

"Donnie, what sort of bunyips we up against? We talking yobbos in leather chaps with AKs, dick'eads who've played hide the sausage with their family too often, radios with extra bits." Bruce radioed the sergeant asking whether they were dealing with raiders, rednecks or mutants.

"Mutants... I think." He replies. "If they are, ain't nothin' like I've ever seen." Donnie answered.

"You get a good squizz? Care ta try and describe em?" Bruce returned over the comms.

"... None of them are the same..." Donnie replied.

"Are they mostly squishy, crunchy? They got any serious anti-armour?" Bruce asked if this was the best intel that this guy could provide then no wonder the Convoy was up shit creek without a paddle.

"Well. The only thing I know is this. A good shot from the tank cannon put them down, for a while... Some of them get back up though, and some of them are tough, some can pierce your armour--we couldn't tell in the chaos." Donnie replies, his voice shaking as his tank slowly advances for the fog again, to support Nathaniel and Chris.

Bruce shook his head unseen in the Ignis Dei and did a triple check over his flamers before advancing further into the fog in the direction indicated by Donnie. This was shaping up to be a perfect Snafu. Switching over to the squad channel Bruce opened the comm again. "Ok you bastards, this dropkick in the tinny hasn't been a lot of help, but looks like we'll be facing radios," Bruce coughed remembering that his team-mates wouldn't know the aussie slang, "radioactives, mutants. He reckons that there is plenty of types, so we're looking at a hot zone, though he did mention some of em getting up from tank shells, so we're probably looking at a mix of squishies and crunchies. But the Ignis Dei will be on task to burn them out. Natho, Chrisso, be a little more cautious gents. One potential friendly doesn't undo all the definite unfriendlies. Churchie, you got my back?" Bruce asked Daniel.

[GreenGoat]

Central Apartment Complex

Junko Heizen

---

Her hand snapped up to her earpiece as soon as a Russian voice entered their comlink.

"This is Antov inside the tank! Mechs are lost, being pursued! Anyone outside, open fire on this thing, or we're all going to die!"

That was quick; she had expected a few more minutes before contact, and the floor below still held unknown threats. Nothing ever seems to go the way it should though, something she learned long ago, along with misfortune always came in threes.

Junko was already up and walking towards the southern side of the building, stopping a few feet before the edge, as Jenive started speaking. With just a thumbs up as a reply, she unslung Vladimir, a custom made semi automatic rifle she sunk half of her savings just to get, and kneeled down, aiming down the thermal scope towards the general area of the southeastern group, watching carefully as she marked the white silhouettes of her teammates to avoid friendly fire.

Her eyes widened as she saw the huge monster approaching the southeastern team, with what seemed to be what was left of a tank limped towards them. The Ruskie was no doubt inside it.

"Fire at its legs! It regenerates but you can slow it down long enough to let everyone get inside the apartments here! HURRY!"

The legs? That sort of thing would shrug off several rounds through its legs if what she could see from this black and white image was correct. With click on one of the scope's button, she changed the black and white filter of the scope to the colored filter, licking her lips as she scoped in on where the hottest part of the monster was. The hottest part of the body almost always contained important parts filled with fresh warm blood from her experience, though she had never faced mutants that weren't human shaped before.

Taking a deep breath, she took her finger off the trigger guard, and fired off a shot, as her mind wondered briefly why they didn't call in the Achilles to ventilate that creature.

[Holmishire]

Eira, Mercy. South-East block.
Mech pilot: Medium armour, 2x.50cal, jets & supportsys.

---

She could hear the tank approaching, its treads grinding across the road. And she could feel the reverbrations of something else.

Her heart beat madly, and she could feel it pumping her ears, beating against her chest. Her hearing faded, her eyesight fizzled. Oh my [\i]God[i], she thought as true danger approached for the first time in her life. Tension was rising in her, her limbs were growing weak. She knew she'd lose control, she knew she'd fail. I'm going to die.

Then the tank passed, and behind it, the beast.

Suddenly, she felt calm. Her vision refocused, her ears cleared, her heart steadied. She had been trained for this, trained so that when the time for action came, she would be ready.

And it was damned well time for her to do something.

Retreating a couple meters from Roman, she pushed her feet into twin pedals, activating the jump jets. Bursts of concentrated combustion propelled her off the ground, and she barely made sense of her companion's words as Mercy tore up through the air.

The walls of the alley blew past her as she focused her gaze on the sky. The opening was fast approaching, and she felt the weight of her speed bear down on her before she was through, weakening the magnitude of the jets to land upon the roof of the adjacent building. Mercy heaved itself onto the edge of the roof, and Eira pulled both of her mini-guns up to aim at the beast's legs.

The building was a couple storeys tall, placing her above the beast but still close enough to allow her to shoot at it reliably. She figured—or at least she hoped—that the beast would be unable to reach her here, and at the same time, she hoped she would be the one to draw its attention. Unlike her allies, she carried a modicum of protection, as well as a reasonably defensible position.

And if things ever get too hot—she braced herself, fingers on the triggers—I can always just pop out the same way I came in.

With a click, she readied for alternating fire, switching between her guns in order to maintain a constant barrage whilst avoiding overheating. But so concentrated was she upon the enemy, that she failed to acknowledge the groan of the surface upon which she'd landed.

[Heyitsjiwon]

South East - James

What had just happened, James could not understand. From his scope, he saw the thing just... consume a man in the fog. The man was lifted and just slowly sank deeper and deeper into the thing as if it were made out of quicksand. Then when it came out of the fog after the tank. James could not help but just look at the thing as his chin dropped. In fact, he took his eye off the scope just to look at the monstrosity. It was a conglomerate of grey skin and flesh. Nothing in the world could have made James expect that thing to come out of the fog. This made him wonder. Was everything in the fog as terrifying as that mutant? How in the world were they expected to be able to fight an army of those? James knew that some freaky stuff was happening in the fog, but he really was not prepared to see the thing burst through the fog. In fact, he was so surprised and terrified of the thing that he silently muttered to himself "I'm glad I'm not down on the streets right now."

James continued to just watch as bullets began to fire towards the grey monstrosity, but he was dubious about how effective the bullets would be. He considered using his rocket launcher, but the tank was still too close to the thing. So, he didn't want to risk missing and hitting the tank instead. That's why he just took his rifle, braced his rifle on the window sill and aimed at the thing's legs. James let himself afford a deep breath, and then once he exhaled. He fired a burst at the thing's legs. The most important thing was to stop the thing from reaching the tank, so he considered that trying to make the thing stumble at the very least would buy some time.