Grave Trench@KuroyomihimeGrave Trench watched as the target he marked was finished off with grand flare by his team leader a moment after a flurry of explosions and gunfire announced that another member of their team had arrived in style. It seemed that he was the only one interested in trying to keep a low profile... or at least a lower one. As flashy as the show was, he turned his eyes away from the blasts and fought to not pay attention to the concussion or the resonating echoes off the machinery. This was the only reason why he saw the movement of the incoming grenade. It was painfully obvious that there were multiple teams involved in this fight. Though, Grave Trench didn't have such polite and complex thoughts as he coiled his body and kicked off the conveyor's support in a rolling forward slide that carried him out of the full intensity radius of the blast. Still, he had been more than close enough for the shock to leave his ears ringing and the area spinning around him. That grenade was aimed for him.
He didn't have time to recover. He hadn't remembered to pull grenades from his inventory.
The sheen of an incoming blade gave him a moment of clarity, something to focus on. He dove toward the attacker, but lower, swinging the stock blade of his rifle in an attempt to catch the middle of his opponent's body. If he failed, he would be turned around by momentum and land on his back where he could hopefully pull his rifle into line for a shot.