April 24th, 20XX A.D., 9:50AM, Convent Garrison Alpha

Steel, rust, stone and dirt. And rain, God there was always the rain. That's what good convents were made of. The city-like structure of Garrison Alpha was nearly the size of New York City--when it wasn't in pieces--and sported several hundred buildings organized into sections. The buildings however, were not all concrete, in fact most of them were little more than ramshackle huts and huge tents made of metal beams and tarp. It was all they could manage to construct given the lack of nearby materials, and the unwillingness of people to leave the sanctuary to search for any. Still, the men and women of Garrison Alpha managed to create massive buildings for living quarters, farms sheltered from the constant rain, a building built to house electricity generators and even a marketplace for merchants and travellers to sell and buy parts and wares. Plus, that was where one could find a good bar. Of course, in the middle of every block of the convent was a larger sewer grate to manage all of the water. All in the center of these parts of the convent, a mile wide plateau of cobblestone made up the City Square. Out of the many sections of the convent, the city square was seeing the most activity at this point in time.

"Yo! Get those fuckin' mechs into the warehouse for repairs!" a deep voice boomed across the city square, carrying over even the heavy patter of rain. "Now! We gotta be in prime fighting form for those bucketheads!" The speaker, a Haitian man in his mid-thirties, stood on top of a great metal podium in the middle of the bustling heart of Convent Garrison Alpha seemingly oblivious to the downpour. This of course, was none other than Captain Jo Garrison, founder of the most successful 4 convents on the planet. Currently the leader of Alpha was engaged in an attempt to get those damned pilots to get their mecha out of the rain and into massive storage sheds built to accomadate the towering beasts of metal. He was also trying to deal with the sudden influx of fighters seeking to join the fast approaching invasion. Amongst the hustling citizens of Garrison, one figure walked slowly, heedless to the rain and rushing people around him.

The man seemed to like black quite alot, as his entire outfit was the same dark shade. The tap of his boots was lost among the yelling and waterfall-like sound create by the storm, and the large fur coat he wore was sodden with water. He didn't seem to mind though, but the dark-clad man pulled back his hood to reveal pale skin and a face that would turn heads. This was the antithesis to Jo Garrison, the founder of one of the most horrific convent massacres since the begininng of the bot invasion. Reaper. At the moment, the young englishman was staring at the stone ground and mumbling something indecipherable to those that were further than two inches from his face.

They just don't get it. I don't understand why they can't get it. The convents aren't sanctums, where we can survive, they're just convenient places where the bots can find food. We're just making it easier...they make a show of raiding our walls, taking a few of us and losing a few of theirs...but I know. They can take us all anytime they want. Any. Time. Why can't they get it?

Right in the center of the square Jo Garrison took a momentary reprieve from his city-wide announcements and put the loudspeaker down and turned to address the twenty or so newest arrivals to the convent.

"Alright." he yelled, looking at each person in one-second intervals. "I don't know why you people are here. And frankly, I don' give a flyin' rat's ass...as long as you help out. If not, stay out the damn way. My word is law." Jo stood erect and glowered at the group. "Invasion's in 72 hours. Get supplies, rest up, just get ready. Welcome to Convent Garrison Alpha." that said, he allowed the new arrivals to get settled in and returned to barking orders.

Every single home was makeshift, smelled, and dirty. However, that was no problem for the brooding man sitting in a lumpy armchair. Within his small abode a ways from the warehouses that housed the mechanical units, he looked out the window in the rainy, chaotic mess. Jo's rough voice rang out throughout the place, cutting straight through the backround noise. Leaders did that, and everyone heard him. The man seated in the armchair was tired, angry, and more distressed than usual. A sniper usually never could work alone when missions were important. They always had a Scout. Scouts were spotters, information brokers, and compact messengers. He had lost his third Scout- the kid was too green and froze up in front of a mess of bots. As unfortunate as it was for the guy, it let the sniper escape.

Fong Liu-Wen slumped further into the chair, massaging the bridge of his nose unconsciously. There weren't enough trained snipers that were still alive, and those that were usually stayed in the Garrison to train. Fong's natural talent with the mech and sniper was very valuable, which was why he was sent on the most missions. And the thought of sleeping in the open in fear that a mech will snatch you up and eat you put a toll on Fong's mind. No matter how many times he would do it, it remained a constant fear that kept him from getting proper sleep, and eventually giving him a self-induced case of horrible nightmares. They came and went, but it left the sniper in a case of slight exhaustion.

"This entire place is in tatters. Since Reaper fell, we're more prone to attack than ever." Muttered the agitated man. Grunting, he got up. Sleeping in a lumpy armchair was terrible for health. He stepped into the next room, and plopped into the slightly dusty bed. It was rarely used, but when it was used it kicked up a dust storm thicker than the sands of the Sahara. Coughing, Fong idly waved away some of the particles and rolled over. He couldn't be assed to dust the bed off before sleeping in it. Within moments, he had fallen unconscious.

Screams of the dying echo

Calling for help that will never come

He tossed and turned, his body accepting that it was safe for now and his mind started to wander.

That was his Scout

He's missing limbs and the upper portion of his skull.

He didn't know they had different methods of feeding.

It was all the same. Nearly the same fate. They wouldn't leave a single body untouched, anyways.

Brenda stood among the newcomers, her hood drawn up to protect herself from downpour as the water rolled off her well treated leather. The dark man, Jo, spoke quite loudly and briefly, and what he said worked for her, she wasn't one to argue. When he obviously seemed to move on, so did Brenda. Moving on to the market, she searched for supplies she needed and paid with what little she had. She wasn't able to get much but she was able to get enough, it would hold her over for long enough. Then she hunted around for a vacancy in one of the ramshackle huts that people called homes now. There was no time, nor resources for a hospitable home.

Finding and establishing a home for herself, Brenda started towards the warehouse, to help with repairs if they would allow her. As she entered, she pulled her hood off to reveal her short black hair that was roughly cut around her narrow jaw. Several people were working on several different mechs, sparks flew as welding took place, the sound of drills and the clattering of metal filled the air. It smelled strongly of oil and gasoline, familiar smells to her. The ceiling was high above, florescents flickered, buzzed, and swayed as they hung, some weak some strong, although it was impossible to hear them. Just looking at them, though, you felt as if you could hear them buzz.

Spotting someone who looked as if they were in charge, Brenda walked over to a tall and rough looking man with light hair, roughly cut hair. "Hi, I'm a new arrival and I'm looking to help as I can. I know my way around the garage so where you have need of me I will go." Brenda said, a little awkwardly, she wasn't particularly social, so it was always awkward for her whenever she came to a new convent. The man spoke briefly and asked her various questions to test her knowledge, before sending her off to work on mech, to truly test her.

A much larger man shoved the leaner Reaper back a few steps, although it took little to retain his balance. Reaper looked up with an expressionless gaze to see his assailant. The offending man was burly and heavily muscled, and obviously loved to show it off by the way he was dressed with nothing more than cargo pants and boots. Reaper guessed he was most likely of Irish decent, based on his bright red hair and the way he reeked of booze. Stereotypical yes, but wrong, not a chance.

"Oi! Wa'ch where yer goin' ye little bastard!" his obscenely thick accent was all Reaper needed to crack a smile. "Don't grin at meh ye damned idiot! Yer bad luck might rub off on me...oh wait. That was just yer stupidity, that got those people killed. Ain't it, Reaper?" it was the irishman's turn to smile.

Reaper's smile disappeared and he lowered his gaze once more, stepping past the man and returning to his thoughts. The husky man whirled around though, intent on bashing the thinner man's skull in...when a sudden impact rocked the square. Most people lost their footing and slipped on the wet cobblestones, but Reaper turned to regard the disturbance. The sight caused the usually emotionless Devlin's eyes to widen in surprise as his breath caught. The mecha warehouses had been almost completely destroyed, blown to oblivion by some sort of explosion. Only the last warehouse, only partially loaded with four mecha had survived the barrage. Devlin snapped his head in the direction of the northern gate and nearly cursed out loud. Roughly thirty Warrior units were charging through and ripping apart scores of people, people who couldn't adequately defend themselves without harming another human being. Just behind the Warriors was one of the bot mechs, a Shell. It was armed with an assault rifle and mowing down the panicking people ahead of the Warrior units. He saw that the situation was much the same at the south, east and west gates. Reaper wondered why Garrison wasn't barking orders to mobilize and turned to see why...and saw that a bot was tearing off chunks of the leader's neck.

"Lovely." throwing back the rain-soaked coat, Devlin drew the SMG at his hip and set it upon the bot with a single fluid motion. Nobody was in the immediate vicinity, so the saboteur decided to unload a full clip of armor-piercing ammunition into the metal creature. After the first couple moments the Warrior unit unleashed some metallic grating scream and charged it's attacker. Reaper remained collected however, and advanced slowly on the approaching android, ceaselessly firing directly at it's head and torso. The warrior unit raised it's arm as if to rend the human in half, but slammed to the ground at the last moment in a heap of twisted metal and an inky black substance leaking from every hole. Reaper stared down at the dead bot and pondered for a moment. "Now what to do..."

The young man now stood upon the raised dias within the downpour of rain assessing the situation, and it wasn't hard to see that Convent Garrison Alpha was doomed. All around the convent, within the markets and living quarters missle pods were hurtling down and destroying all in their blast radius. With the main exit and entrance roads being scoured by a full squad of armored beasts and even mecha, there was practically no chance of escape. Devlin assumed that there had to be sentries waiting to cut off escape from the outside as well, noticing the explosions happening just outside of the convent...probably for those that slipped past the squads. The bots were going to herd everyone to the square and slaughter them all. Some people must have realized this, as the crowd was already scattering towards the alleyways. It mattered little though, for some of the warriors had already breached the square and were persuing the unarmed humans. Some sought to fight back, but mere pockets of resistance. They were trapped. It was the perfect execution...but how? How did the bots manage to pull this off when Garrison had defended itself so many times?

Within the pouring rain, Devlin Richards hopped off of the platform and dashed for the nearest alley, reloading as he went. It was doubtful he'd make it far though, as a warrior unit leaped from a nearby rooftop, mechanical claws outstretched to tear flesh from bone. Shit.

The explosion rocked the entire garrison, waking the fretful young sniper from his slumber. Rolling out of bed into a crouched position, he warily checked his surroundings before rushing to the window. His eyes were met with a scene of terror and chaos. The robots have invaded, blowing up all the mech garages save for one. The one that housed his own.

"Damn it. Now they decide to attack?" Fong muttered angrily as his eyes hunted through the room. He grabbed his sniper rifle, slinging it to his back and grabbed a powerful revolver that his Scout usually carried. He grabbed his bag as well, thankful he didn't unpack yet before rushing out the door. Moments later, machine gun fire tore through the thin walls and littered the place with bullets. Peeking out the door, he noted that the mechs were not far from his location, and many robots including the marauding shell was taking out the larger crowds trying to flee.

History repeats itself once more for the sniper, as he ran down the back alleys towards the hangars. He was only a mere few blocks away before a mech intercepted him, towering over the short statured man. It seemed to be looking down on him, a gaze that had a raging hunger as well as contempt.

Suddenly, the arm lashed out. Fong dove forward, avoiding the arm and surprising the mech. Many humans would try to dodge back or to the side, and this was a new tactic for the robot. The Sniper raised the revolver, and fired a piercing shot through the head, reaching vital structures and dropping it. Rolling out of the way before he could be pinned down by the mass of armor and metal, Fong darted back down the alleys, his heart pounding. Arriving at the hangar, he saw his mech.

He did not notice anything else, because he didn't have the time to. He looked it over briefly, and pulled out a small remote-like object to start it up. He couldn't help but feel a tiny bit amused when it felt like turning on a car. A mechanical screech announced that two bots had managed to find him, and he drew his revolver. Moving quickly, the bots began to flank the Sniper, throwing off his aim by smashing the ground and sending dust into his face.

Before Fong could collect his thoughts, he was tackled, thrown onto the ground and tumbling a couple of feet. He had lost the revolver during impact, and as he struggled to bring his sniper around, the first bot leered into his face. Everything seemed to slow down. It was extremely lucky that the sniper rifle had not been broken during impact, and as he cocked the bolt, he poked it into the calculating red eye of a bot and blew it's circuitry out. Before he could draw the bolt back again, the second bot punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and eliciting an audible crunch from his body. Throwing him across the floor, he landed at the feet of his mech.

How ironic. He was able to reach his mech, but was he going to die there?

“You see, you have to clamp the artery or else it will retract back up the thigh and will be practically un-findable when you go to re-attach it,” Loelle spoke as her hands moved swiftly as she began completing the surgery she allowed Naomi to watch. Loelle was the wife of the couple who had found her all these years ago and although there was no relation between them, she was beginning to think of her as a mother, though she would never address her as such. She admired everything about this woman, her grace, her kindness, her dexterity. Everything she was, Naomi strived to be. Her eyes watched carefully every stroke and every stitch in this man. He was a pilot, this man on this make-shift operating table, wounded in the leg from what she could only guess was a knick from an almost bite to the leg. The operation came to a close, the man would lose some feeling in his lower leg, but it had been saved and that was what mattered. Loelle’s attention shifted to Naomi, “Understand?” she questioned warmly. “I always do,” Naomi replied back with the same feeling.

An explosion radiated through the encampment, causing Loelle and Naomi to fall to the floor. “Shit,” Loelle spat out. Naomi looked on in amazement, she had never heard her curse before. “Grab your supplies and every bit of arms you can muster. Save whom you can, but not more than would hinder your escape. Go!” Loelle sprang up and scrambled for her things, Naomi followed suit. Loelle rushed out the door and out of sight, Naomi took one last breath and did the same. As soon as her feet left the med. hut, they felt glued to the floor. Her heart raced, never before had she witnessed an attack on Garrison Alpha like this, and she refused to believe that this was the end of her new home, not again.

Her emergency training had not trained her for this and her mind reeled through what they had told her. “Always keep your gun up, only save the people worth saving, and get as many pilots in their mechs as possible.” There, pilots, their main defense. Freeing herself from her fear-ridden trance, she made way to the warehouses, trying to avoid any attention. Although she could use her gun, she knew her aim was erratic and practically useless unless the bot was right in front of her. She peeked around the corner, noticing a man pinned down by a bot a few feet from the last warehouse standing. The last warehouse, she shivered at the thought, they learned exactly how to take Garrison Alpha down. Well, the man on the ground seemed unbitten and un-hurt as of now, so she figured he fell into her category to save. She aimed high, genuinely afraid that she would accidentally hit the man if she didn’t. One or two of the bullets grazed the bot around the shoulder/neck area. It didn’t do any particular damage that she could tell, but she didn’t dare go closer and risk being out in the open. The bot looked up, distracted momentarily from the man below. Even if it didn’t take the bot out, it may have given the man window enough to escape out from under it. Go she wanted to shout, please just run.

Brenda had just finished her work on the mech she'd been working and had started to climb down when the explosion hit. It shook the warehouse with such a force, that Brenda fell and bits and pieces of the warehouse fell. With a groan, she struggled to her feet and ran to the other end of the warehouse to collect her bag and weaponry. Then she noticed a pilot race in, and two bots after him. The bots pinned him, and Brenda tried to make herself small, then came another woman. She started silently, and slowly for her escape, but the other woman's shots caught her attention. They certainly weren't enough, she knew that. It did distract the bots though and turned them on her.

A little disgruntled, Brenda readied her gun, and coming towards them quickly, she fired several quick bursts at the joints easiest to find. Mostly the neck, she could have done under the knees but that would have meant the man would have been crushed. Then she turned on the second bot, getting the backs of its knees. Inky liquid poured from the wounds, and the bots turned towards her as she jumped back several paces. "Run! Get up and run!" She growled as she reloaded, and started firing again.

The two bots rushed towards her, even as she shot at one, the first fell short as she ran backwards, its wounded neck finally being enough. The second was slow due to the damage done to its knees, and continued to advance, while the first still tried to attack despite its impending doom. Brenda continued to run backwards until she tripped over debris.

((Sorry if I stole your thunder Even, but Brenda isn't rude so I couldn't just have her run without helping. Someone tell me if this is over the top please.))

All along the edges of Convent Garrison Alpha the machines mobilized their attack in full force. At all four entrances to the mini-city, the lumbering mechanical behemoths commonly refered to as 'Shells' began advancing towards the town square. Behind them legions of warriors swarmed past the gates and into the alleys, nooks and buildings, slaughtering as they went. All had one single plan in mind; Heard the inhabitants toward the square. Like cattle, they would be gathered and slaughtered without a second thought. Those pilots that were still alive who attempted to reach their mecha were greeted by ballistics blasting their way into the many mech garages. Only two of the warehouses survived the barrage, if only barely, and any fool could tell you that if you can count the number of mechs you have on one hand, you weren't going to win this fight. About halfway to their destination the shells unstrapped their massive battle-rifles and began firing into nearby buildings, aiding the warriors in flushing out their prey.

With a sigh just barely audible in the downpour, Devlin arose from the scene of his latest battle. The warrior lay in a heap of twisted metal while the man's ready supply of ammunition was already down by half. The trio of gashes that had cut through his coat and bloodied his shoulder didn't even register as a setback in his addled mind. Devlin cursed how resilient the bots were and proceeded down the alley. Sounds indicating a horrendous slaughter was taking places echoed off of the metal and mortar. The fur-clad man didn't even wince. Turning another corner, Reaper came upon an interesting scene.

---

The warrior who had taken a pot-shot at Fong's stomach grasped the slender man by the arm, lifting him several feet off of the ground. Slapping the crude weapon out of Fong's hand, it took hold of his other arm and began to pull. It had every intent to tear open the human a allow his blood to pour into it's mouth, but the warrior never got the chance. A sudden layer of rime coated the being's metal plating and the machine stood motionless for a long moment, it's crimson eyes staring into Fong's. Amidst the sounds of battle, screams and the rain, a loud cracking noise became evident. Soon it became a racuous cacophany of expanding and tearing metal as the flash-frozen warrior crumbled into pieces at the ground, releasing Fong from it's grip.

A woman--a girl really--crouched beside Fong, sheltering them both from the rain with an absurdly large pink umbrella. "Hora..." she poked his cheek, then again harder prompting the man to get up. "You'll catch a cold dude. C'mon!" humming the Final Fantasy 7 victory theme, the strange girl pulled Fong up and grinned. "Sachiko the frost mage has joined your party!"

---

As Brenda was busy stumbling and tripping on debri, a third warrior leapt from a nearby rooftop and pinned her to the ground. Grinding it's clawed hands into the concrete, it ensured there would be no chance of escape for the mechanic. It opened it's grotesque maw, hundreds of needle-like teeth coated in a viscous green substance glinting in the rain. A single drop of the acidic stuff fell onto Brenda's neck, scorching the young woman's fair skin. Just as it lowered it's head to take her's off a hail of gunfire tore into the bot's exposed neck and torso. Bits of metal and thick oily 'blood' splattered onto Brenda as the bot's life-support systems crashed. It began to slump onto her--which would have in all likelyhood crushed the woman--when a blur burst forth from the direction of the gunfire and kicked the bot away like a rag-doll.

Brenda's savior, a teenage boy, smirked at his accomplishment and started playing air guitar to a melody only he--and the headphones blasting into his ears--would ever know. Dancing, looking like an idiot in the rainy, battle-ridden city, he unwittingly stomped on the head of the bot Brenda had crippled earlier. The boy suddenly became aware of Naomi and Brenda. He allowed the headphones to slide down his neck and gave the women a two-fingered salute.

"Greetings, lovely ladies. Alxander Siks, armorslayer, music-buff and" he winked suggestively at Naomi, "Lover, at your service." Somewhere behind the boy, if anyone were to listen closely enough, they would've heard Devlin mumbling about wasting ammunition to save some 'Retarded bimbo'.

---

Making his way past the trio of idiots, Devlin donned his hood and pulled the lid off of a manhole near the back of the alley. Slipping inside, he flipped a swith the pratically opened up the narrow alley into a large entrance into the sewers. That done, he proceeded into a security room built into the sewers. It had been devised by both Jo and Devlin as a means to keep watch over the convent during a siege. Alot of good it did them now, but Reaper supposed he could do one last kindness before getting the hell out of here. Pressing a red button and staring at the security monitors, the PA system buzzed on. A wicked static roared throughout the convent for a moment before shifting to Devlin's calm voice.

"Hear me, people of Alpha. You have exactly three minutes to arrive at the open alley approximately half a mile south from the square before it's closed." A long pause. "Attention. Testicles. That is all."

Innapropriate, yes, but he supposed it'd be the last time anyone would hear a Family Guy joke. With that, Devlin sat back in the leather revolving chair, absently flipping the cover to the switch that would blow Garrison Alpha to hell.

Naomi’s efforts seemed pointless, none of her shots did any significant damage and she was simply bringing attention to herself. Another woman stepped in from behind and seemed to take over, wounding the bot and doing more damage in one shot than she did in all of hers. He seemed to be safe, a girl with a pink umbrella, a very pink umbrella, took the part of saving him. Naomi seemed relieved, she never wanted to play the hero anyway, that just wasn’t who she was. She looked away, not noticing that another bot had taken down the girl or the man who had saved her until Naomi heard the crash of the bot hitting the ground. She turned around suddenly, started. The bot fell, the strange man on top of it. She considered him strange because, well, he seemed surprisingly calm and chipper considering the circumstances. It just…confused her. Naomi blushed violently, did he just direct that to her? Now of all times? She shook it off, searching around.

And there it was, the trademark coat. The Reaper was here. All the stories, all the rumors she had heard about this man and here he was, running into a…secret passage? Was that there before? This man was a legend around Garrison Alpha, almost a superman legend of sorts. She wanted to run after him, but the way closed itself. Standing there, she decided to get her bearings around her.

"Hear me, people of Alpha. You have exactly three minutes to arrive at the open alley approximately half a mile south from the square before it's closed. Attention. Testicles. That is all."

She smiled, it was definitely the Reaper and he was certainly living up to her standards. But what could he mean by what he said? Searching around for the people left alive, she watched them running in droves towards the alley, hoping desperately for salvation, you could see it in their faces. And to be honest, she was just like them. She trusted the Reaper, no matter what other people had said about the latest…mishap, she believed him. Making her way to the alley, she made sure not to be taken out this close to being saved.

With his weapon gone, a last shot wasn't even an option. As he prepared to get his arms torn off and experience excruciating pain, he was saved. By what, he wasn't sure. His jelly-fied chest was a topic of high concern for the Sniper, but without a medical kit he was nowhere near going to be able to move around very quickly across all the debris. He looked up at a canvas of hot pink and eyed the girl who had saved him. She seemed far to casual to be sane, as she hummed a familiar tune and introduced herself. Forced to his feet, he looked up at his mech and then at the ground. He grabbed the rifle off the ground after moving toward it carefully, and inspected it with all possible haste. It was fine, despite the massive damage to the stock which was for shouldering the weapon. He would have to replace it as soon as possible, otherwise his shots will be missing by a lot. Turning back to the girl, he nodded. "My name is Fong. I am a Sniper. Thanks for the assist."

He watched the mech's rope crane drop down. He grabbed the handle. Ascending to the pilot seat, he grabbed the medical kit and straightened his torso. There was no time to waste. A botched job was better than letting his floating ribs punch through vital organs. Boldly molding it back into place (with a lot of grimacing) He set his body in bandages, sealing the ribs back. He shouldered the broken rifle, taking a small kit and shoving it in his rucksack. The PA clicked on.

"Hear me, people of Alpha. You have exactly three minutes to arrive at the open alley approximately half a mile south from the square before it's closed." A long pause. "Attention. Testicles. That is all."

Why that location? Whatever. Trying to escape through the exits would just lead to a hail of gunfire and certain death. Fong noted the last sentence. Only one person who could have access to the PA, and would say such a thing would be Reaper. The maniacal bot bomber that lost his convent long ago. "Interesting. I wonder if I could bring my mech?" He wondered briefly. Even if he couldn't, he could let it go out with a bang with a convenient self-destruct button.

Reaper was one crazy bastard. The Sniper didn't like his plan one bit, but it was his only chance at survival. There was no real way of coping with the loss of a convent- one that he originally lead. His mind was not in the right place, especially in a situation such as this. There was calm and collected, and then there was calm and crazy. Batman versus The Joker.

Looking down, he watched the newly introduced Frost Mage Sachiko ascend his mech and plop down in the scout seat behind him. He wanted her to leave, but at this point there wasn't any time left. The clock was ticking. The mech straightened, and before the cockpit doors sealed shut, Fong stuck his head out toward Brenda and Alexander. Naomi had already ran.

"Listen. I'll give you some covering fire while you make the run for it. You have less than three minutes, don't question this decision." He said, unusually harsh compared to how he usually acted.

Raising the massive sniper cannon, he quickly became readjusted to his mech. Firing was going to be extremely painful. The computer quickly picked out all the bots within sensor range, and now he had to pick priority targets. Two shells, trying to eradicate the last warehouse- the one his mech was housed in. He took aim, and fired.

The roar of the cannon was subdued, due to his mech's design. Everything had to be based on stealth, otherwise he would be hunted down after he took a shot immediately. The Shell's armor was completely rended, an it's major circuitry was destroyed. The tank-shell of a bullet was ejected, slamming into the ground. Firing again, the second Shell dropped- it's body destroyed by the large bullet that crushed it's major systems.

And Fong felt that. Slightly dizzy, he focused himself through the pain and tried to align himself with another target.

The force of the bot pinning her knocked the wind out of her. The gun shot out of her hand as she hit the ground and skittered out of reach. All she could do was stare up into the gaping jaws of the bot, she watched as the single drop fell to singe the delicate skin of her neck. In this moment, Brenda was sure that she had met her end, and she regretted stopping to help. Just as this thought crossed her mind, a spray of bullets desecrated the bot, it's inky liquid splattered cross her face and torso. She flinched as she could see it start to sink, sure that it's heavy weight would crush her.

She waited for the painful pressure to start, but instead the bot's shadow suddenly fled. It had literally been kicked off of her, which was more than a pleasant surprise. Brenda quickly used her sleeve to wipe away the acidic liquid from her seared neck. The poor skin had been burned raw and was already blistering, and whatever had bled onto her wasn't helping, as it only seemed to irritate the wound. Brenda quickly gathered up her things again, looking to the boy that had saved her, she said, a little awkwardly, "Um, thanks."

"Hear me, people of Alpha. You have exactly three minutes to arrive at the open alley approximately half a mile south from the square before it's closed. Attention. Testicles. That is all."

The announcement caught her a little off guard, and she didn't understand the last part at all. She had never seen Family Guy, so how could she understand it. Shortly after it the man she'd helped save told them to go, that he would cover them. She nodded and ran quickly, heading towards the alley as directed. She ran through a web of tight alleyways, pushing through people, and squeezing through tight spaces. Meanwhile, the chaos was rampant with the bots ravaging.

Peering through the infrared lenses that comprised it's optics array, a warrior hidden inside a partially collapsed building relayed information across the battlefield to the third and fourth shells, as well as the two nearest regiments of machine footsoldiers. Silently the warrior shifted from it's hiding spot and pursued the fleeing mecha that had managed to destroy two of the heavier units with supposed ease. It was an outlier, to be sure. A random exception to the general calculations that pitted shells at a much higher point on the graph than any human built machine, and to be watched closely. It was random variables such as this that thouroughly damaged the balance of input and output.

---

"Woo! Nice one!" Sachiko's nails dug into the head of the seat in front of her as she watched the battle through the heads up display. Holding on tightly but refusing to strap in, the young girl observed the teeming masses passing under Fong's mech and squirming into the alleys. "Hmm...I think, we should be following-"

A sudden tremor knocked Fong's mech off of it's alignment and caused the machine to stumble. It's left arm had a scorchmark, the result of being grazed by the discharge of a shortgun. Just around the corner of a building a shell--who had shot straight through the structure--swung out with a punch that knocked the recovering mech back a step, reloading it's crude armament in the same move. Just as it brought the gun up for another shot at point blank range a tiny brown blur knocked it off track and the blast reduced a chunk of the nearby stream of people to bloody smears on the pavement. Just barely audible, Alexander cursed from his handhold on the shell's gun. The armorslayer began scrabbling his way up the bot's arm and started tearing at it's faceplate, effectively holding it's attention.

"Alley oop!" Sachiko pressed the button to open the hatch over the scout seat and opened up her ostentatious umbrella brief moments before the rain smacked down upon her. The same could not be said for Fong, however, but the girl paid him no heed as she raised her flattened palm at the shell. She screamed and pointed with her free hand down the road towards and incoming squad of warriors. As his attention was elsewhere, Sachiko brought her fingers together in a claw-like gesture. The shell's armor plating went white and rigid around the neck and head, allowing Alex to shatter it and tear at it's vital systems. Spent, she collapsed into her seat, folded her umbrella and shut the hatch. "I'm pooped...how we doin' buddy? We almost there?"

---

Having dealt with the shell and regained his foothold on the ground, Alexander rushed into the throng of panicked people helping up those who had fallen and those too weak to continue. Catching a glimpse of that woman in the crowd, he grasped Brenda by the hand and hurried her towards the designated "safe zone". They would arrive to find it relatively abandoned, not a soul there save Naomi and a couple of civillians. "What? Where is everyone?"

---

Reaper opened up the secret garage entrance to the tunnel with a press of a button. The deserted alley lowered until it was level with the tunnel itself, a full twenty feet below street level. He walked out into the rain and was slightly confused to see only one person, a girl, Naomi, waiting for refuge. He was about to question her when a couple arrived as well. "Where the hell is everyone? They can't all be dead yet."

The woman, panting and out of breath patted her husband who spoke up. "Th-That man...the big one, with the red hair. Rutherford! He led them to the northern alley! Nobody else but us was smart enough not to follow him!"

"Fuck. That's just...fuck." a young man and woman--the one whom he had liberated from the clutches of a warrior--came into view soon after the married couple. Devlin sighed and waved them all into the tunnel and out of the rain, tightening his own fur coat against the chill...and his grip on the detonator.

One minute.

Naomi paced back and forth, becoming more agitated by the second. She was all alone in the alleyway and was becoming worried. Scanning the road, she searched desperately for signs of her mother. She was still out there. Her heart moved a mile a minute, Naomi had already lost her father to these monsters and could not bare to be alone again. Everything in her told her to run back into the street and search for her, but she would just be searching for a needle in a haystack, and unarmed at that. However desperate she was becoming, she wasn't stupid and she wasn't just going to run out and die for nothing just yet. If there was any chance for a rescue, which she didn't want to consider the horrible probability that her mother was already dead, she needed a plan. And a good one.

People rushed in, but only in few. Maybe seven people at most, none of them her mother. A big fur coat caught her peripheral and she turned and there behind her was the reaper himself. He seemed to ask the same question everyone was, where was everyone at? Naomi held her breath, unsure of how to take the news that the majority of the population was with Rutherford heading north. It seemed like a decent enough idea to her, the north had more exit points, some of which hidden better than most. Rutherford wasn't exactly her ideal choice of leader, but he was by no means completely incompetent. "Fuck? Why fuck?? Isn't that ok? Sure Rutherford isn't fantastic, but we can still get to them if we need to, right? If we have the means to escape, we can get up there and get them. Isn't that how this works?" her voice became more panicked with each question.

She began to shake, half from the cold and half from fear. No matter how hopeless the situation looked, she refused to come to terms with the possibility that she would just have to let her mother go without trying. Tears began to well up, but she didn't care, she was so drenched there was no way anyone could distinguish tears from rain. "My mother," she started, her voice cracking at the word mother. Taking a deep breath and calming herself down, she started again, "My mother is out there, can we please do something. Anything? If you're anything like what people say, you won't let those people just die." Her eyes pleaded with him, she would have shook him if she wasn't so afraid of him. Her teeth chattered and she shimmied from side to side, she was freaked and freezing and losing her last shred of patience.

Devlin cast a sidelong glance at the girl who seemed intent on prattling on about people who were in all likelihood mangled corpses already. Slowly, he turned the full weight of his gaze to regard Naomi. A thousand words came to mind as he sized her up, almost none of them complimentory--aside from those regarding her body. A long moment of silence passed between the group of those smart enough to heed Reaper's broadcasted warning and the air hung thick with tension. Finally, the pale man spoke. His voice seemed a whisper, but carried over the sound of rain easily.

"Shut. Up." With a flourish Devlin indicated the rest of the city just beyond the alley in which they stood. "Those idiots that chose to follow that bigger idiot are dead. If not now, then very, very soon, now get in the damn tunnel." He almost decided to leave it at that and turned enter the secret tunnel entrance when something prompted him to say more. Looking over his shoulder, his harsh glare somewhat softed, Devlin spoke again. "Forgive me, but there's nothing we can do about them. If I had originally had more say in the construction of these tunnels, I would've built more than one entrance. But I didn't. The most we can do is bring those unfortunate souls a quick and painless death."

The uncharacteristic show of compassion was short lived as the man entered the sewer entrance, leaning on the wall next to the button that would re-close the alley and make it seem like the place had never existed. Time was up. The civillians filed into the musty-smelling tunnel and out of the rain, and he was about to slam shut the entrance when a mecha came wheeling through the wide alley. A young girl that somehow wasn't being carried off by the wind and her massive umbrella stood atop the mech's open cockpit waving and shouting for him to stop. Her arguement would have been substantially more convincing had a group of warriors and a half-destroyed shell not crashed into view a scant twenty meters behind them. Devlin cocked an eyebrow as if the girl was insane and, he could've sworn, she pouted. With a quick jab the release button was hit and the concrete and metal floors above the tunnel began to fold together once more.

A dark skinned youth called out for him to let them in as well but his pleading was ignored.

---

"Ooooh!" Sachiko bristled and stamped her feet on the wet scout's seat, inadvertantly getting some of it on the already-soaked Fong. "That-that...ooh! He's closing the door on us! Faster!" The girl was sure she had only one or two spells left for the day, and knew this was definitly the time to use them. A loud exhalation of air was accompanied by a sudden freezing of the wet stones in thier path all the way up to the rapidly dwindling avenue of escape. Carried by it's forward momentum, Fong's mech hurtled the last fifty feet or so at an incredible speed and cleared the closing mechanical doors with inches to spare. The predatory machines weren't nearly close enough to reach them in time before the gates slammed shut. "Haha! Good work Mr....umm...what was your name again Onii?"

---

A few quick steps backwards brought Reaper out of the sliding mech's path. The others cried out in shock at the things sudden appearance and the even more sudden darkness that enveloped the tunnel. With the doors closed, the rain and sounds of battle were muffled and seemed distant.

"Cover your ears." Was their only warning before Reaper flipped the switch, setting off napalm bombs and plastic explosives all around Convent Garrison.

---

Above, the world was wreathed in flames and crushing force that demolished buildings and machines alike. Near the northern half of the city where Rutherford and his large band of survivors were failing to hold back the tide of warriors and shells surrounding them, the waves of fire came rushing through. The screams of the panicked and the smell of charred flesh assailed their senses an instant before they themselves were incinerated. Rutherford could only hang his head in shame, knowing he'd failed his people.

---

After a few minutes the ringing of explosions stopped, and Devlin heaved a sigh. That was it. They were all gone. The lights in the escape tunnel had flickered on at some point all though he couldn't recall exactly when.

"You should all get some rest before we start moving...the room on the right side wall has a tap if you're thirsty..." He suddenly stopped, shooting a look back towards Fong, whose cockpit was still open. "Didn't I comission you to hunt me some venison a few months back? Or maybe ramen..."

Iris dove into the "shelter" or whatever the heck this place was shortly after Alex, but she did not immediately acknowledge him. Instead, her eyes searched what was still visible for Sachiko. The girl had a tendency to get herself into stranger situations in a day than she and Alex could manage in a year if they tried.

Which was why the woman was hardly surprised to see the girl atop a mech, piloted by a man maybe a bit older than Iris herself, who looked like he'd taken a few hits in the recent past. What she was less pleased to observe, however, was that whomever claimed to be in charge of this retreat was about to close the door. Iris's grip tightened on her wooden staff; she wasn't about to let that door close if Sachiko wasn't inside. The dark-haired woman couldn't claim to care about much anymore, but Sachiko and Alex were exceptions.

Fortunately, it didn't need to come to that, as the frost mage used a spell to send herself and the mech pilot both skidding inside on a slick just before the door closed. Iris rolled her eyes a little, but the tension in her shoulders noticeably eased, and she approached the machine. "Sachiko? Are you all right? You're not out of spells yet, are you?" Iris knew better than just about anyone how awful it felt, having used one's reserves of energy and yet still needing to keep moving in order to survive. It had happened to her more than once. Alex she was of course concerned for as well, but it was a little different with mages.

Turning her attention for the moment to the man piloting the mech, she inclined her head. "Thank you for helping her," she said simply, before turning back to the group of people who seemed to be planning what to do next. Well, actually that seemed best characterized by saying the man in the fur coat who was telling everyone else what to do and the few people who were either brave or stupid enough to protest. She heard someone mention Rutherford and snorted. She'd met the guy earlier, when she came to report in to Jo. He hadn't struck her as too smart then, and this disaster of a choice only confirmed it.

She felt pretty bad for the girl who was looking for a relative, but Iris had seen the situation enough times to know that the chances weren't good, and searching now was the best way to put the rest of them in danger as well. At times like this, the survival of the people she could see and know to be alive was more important. She went to stand next to Alex, clapping the young man on the shoulder without saying anything, and listened as the explosions rocked the surrounding area. When the guy with the coat (who she figured was probably that Reaper person she'd heard about a few times) told everyone to take a rest, Iris merely leaned back against the nearest wall and closed her eyes for a second, not letting her awareness of the place drop off for a second.

Brenda was caught by surprise by the boy who grabbed her arm, the one who'd saved her before. If it weren't for the fact that she was running for her life, she probably would have pulled away. Half dragged by the boy, they arrived in the designated area, but found that few were there. The boy and the man in the tunnel asked why, and their questions were answered by a couple just arriving, but the woman's answer didn't seem to sit well with a rather dramatic young lady. As she began to dramatically freak out, but not loudly, thank heavens, Brenda couldn't help but think, "And you didn't think to get her before?" Other cruel thoughts entered her mined, but fortunately she clamped her mouth shut, and the man in the tunnel spoke.

Then, along with the others, she hurried into the tunnel and watched as the door slid shut, allowing only a lagging mech passage after the rest. Darkness consumed them, and "Cover your ears." was the only warning given by the man. Brenda clamped her hands over her ears as the explosions shook the earth. The first knocked her back against the wall and when the lights flickered on, she could see the dust stir from the quakes. She could only imagine the destruction left in the wake of the fire above. Her ears rung, despite her efforts to protect her ears, and the man's advice to rest was muffled and difficult to understand, but she could see from the others what he had meant. Finding a spot to herself, she sat down and arranged herself to be comfortable.

((Sorry, best I have right now. I'll probably improve as I go though.))

"My name is Fong." The sniper said to the excitable Frost Mage. He watched her get out, and was ushered away by a gentle-looking woman. She simply thanked him, which the man waved away hastily. Saving others was what he never really did much of, and the times he did it he really didn't deserve to be thanked for. Especially in a situation like this. He didn't have time to prepare himself, or even check up on the status of his mech when the deranged bomber-man gave the single command:

"Cover your ears.

He clapped his hands to his ears almost instinctively, and just as he did so, a rumble that shook the heavens rang. He could almost feel the explosives detonating, one-by-one. He knew it was some sort of high-explosive not seen in the common plastic explosives. Unless there was a lot of gunpowder packed around it. However, there was no doubt that nothing above the ground survived, untouched by the razing flames that suddenly engulfed the entire city. He continued to sit in his half-collapsed mech, examining it's interior and exterior damage. The cloaking device on it's body had been permanently broken. He would need some new parts to get it working again. He blotted out the sounds of fire above and the small talk that occured near him. However, he could not deny the large presence that walked up to him, and promptly asked: "Didn't I comission you to hunt me some venison a few months back? Or maybe ramen..."

Looking up, he tried to remember. The last time he was commissioned to actually hunt for something other than a pesky scout bot nearing a commune was... a few months back. By some odd kid. He had something to pay him, of course. Some ammunition, gunpowder, metals...

"Why, I do believe you did. Snow Wolves. Six of them, brought to you as requested. Each one killed by a bullet to a vital structure." Fong replied shortly, quickly losing interest in the conversation. He didn't want to check on the status of his invisibility cloak, as it was too valuable, but he had to know whether the damn thing was destroyed by the beating the bot took or the shockwave of the explosions above.

Fong's reply was largely ignored as the pale, lavishly dressed man began a head count. Flipping out a small dossier, he ran through the names and faces of each person lucky enough not to have followed that blundering oaf to a fiery death. Hmmm...three metahumans. One armorslayer, Alexander, marked in a group with two mages...Sachiko and Iris. His gaze lingered on Iris for a moment before resuming the count. The mech-driver might be useful if we can get out of these blasted sewers to make use of the machine's size. Fong, gotta remember that name. Aaand, four normals; Naomi Fuller and Brenda Addison. A medic and a mechanic. He chuckled slightly at this. The group had someone to tend to the humans and the mechs. The other two, the couple, slipped his mind. That finally done, Devlin made his way a little bit firther down the tunnel and away from the group and sunk to the floor.

Devlin took a bit of his own advice in resting, using the long tail of his fur coat as a seat. Despite the musty, slightly swamp-like smell and atmosphere of the tunnel he was able to find his center fairly quickly and let the world around drop into little insignificant pieces. He played a mental game he'd read about a few years back in a book. My name is Devlin Richards. I am twenty...something years old. I am a demolition expert and natural born leader. My luck is horrid. I am responsible for one of the largest massacres since the beginning of the invasion. it went on like this for a while, Devlin picking up pieces of what he knew to be fact and setting them into the puzzle that was his existence. Finally, it ended with the one question he never had the courage to answer. Is there any reason for me to keep on living?

Before he could attempt to answer something interrupted his trance, as it often does. A faint crunching and scratching sound. His eyes snapped open to find the lolita girl--Sachiko--crouched and staring at him from only a foot away.

"You mumble in your sleep dude." she whispered in a slightly concerned voice.

"I wasn't sleeping. Now back off, your in my personal bubble." Reaper stood up and shook the dust from the back of his coat. An upward twitch at the corner of his mouth that might or might not have been a smiled showed for the briefest of instants. "You can come back when you're eighteen." He made his way back to the gathering andclapped his hands together. "I hope you've enjoyed your rest fellows, for it is time to embark on our grand journey to safety! Or...no, not exactly safe, but not quite as dangerous as here." Before anyone could protest his finger shot up to indicate the closed metal doors and the earth around them. Dust was steadily falling off of it, and if one listened closely the sounds of heavy machinery hefting rock could be heard. "Like I said. Move your asses. Or not. It's just that I am, and i've been fairly correct so far..."

Several light provisions already tucked into his coat, sub-machine gun locked and loaded, the lanky Reaper made an abrupt turn and sauntered his way down the dimly lit tunnel.

Back near Iris, Alexander poked his guardian in the ribs. "Hey old-timer, it's time to move!" He leapt away to avoid any swat to the head that was forthcoming. Sachiko giggled and pulled on Iris to start moving. As he passed, Alexander waved to Brenda and Fong. "You guys comin' or what?"

Despite having her eyes closed, Iris was tuned in enough to what was going on to catch the conversation between Richards (she'd remembered his actual name, which was a bit of a surprise, considering how awful she usually was with such things) and Sachiko. Opening her lids, she snorted softly and leveled a glare at the foppishly-dressed man. If you're still around when she's 18, I'll kill you first, she thought venomously.

Shaking her head, she knew that her excessively maternal instincts were at full force, and she suppressed the desire to hit him over the head for even suggesting it. That wouldn't do them any good. As if to confirm that she was far beyond her age at present, Alex went so far as to call her old-timer. Well, that wasn't exactly unusual; he'd learned well enough to flinch away from her staff at present. "Shut it, babyface," she replied easily. "If us old people take longer to move, it's because we actually bother to think about it first." She tapped the side of her head before yielding to Sachiko's insistent tugging and heading into the passage.

It was extremely dank down here, and Iris immediately wished for something by way of fresh air. Even a little more light might help, but alas she had no means of producing one. Theoretically, a kinetic compression spell could manage it eventually, on the same principle as an LED light, but she wasn't going to waste energy for something so nonessential.

The groups footsteps produced tinny echoes that sounded strangely muffled. Maybe it was the humidity down here or something. Iris looked around at the other members of their little traveling party, wondering how it was exactly that each of them had come to be here. She didn't have the social skills to ask without being ridiculously awkward and possibly abrasive, so she wasn't going to inquire, but... that had never stopped her curiosity before, and probably wasn't about to start.

She glanced up at Richards's back, and shook her head again. Why, exactly, she was following a guy with such a bad track record remained to be seen, but then she'd never known this place that well, and he seemed to. I guess we'll just see what comes of it...

Brenda watched in silence as the young girl disturbed their unnamed "leader." She had yet to hear his name, although it wasn't that important. She could always just call him "that guy" or "hey you" for the rest of her life. "Nameless" was always an option too, although none were polite. Bored of watching people she had yet to learn the names of, she turned her attention to the tunnel itself. The smell wasn't too pleasant, it wasn't well lit either, and dust was still falling from overhead.

It was only moments later that Nameless clapped his hands and basically told them to get moving. Brenda had only taken a moment to pull her bag back onto her back and her gun across her body, when the young guy from before asked if she and the mech pilot were coming. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." She snapped as she stood, "I'd rather not leave anything behind, guns coming in handy when you can't tear apart bots with your bear hands." So perhaps she was being a bit tart, but it was the truth.

In the faint light, as she followed their Nameless "leader," Brenda caught the eye of one woman who seemed to be inspecting everyone for a moment. In this set moment, Brenda's face probably matched that tart tone of hers. She wasn't particularly social either, but she wasn't your typical shy girl. She was the sort who used the "get back" stare to avoid perfectly social situations. Being perfectly unsocial wasn't a bother when your main focus was to survive. Sure she'd talk to anyone who she could work for, and anyone who talked to her first, but she didn't speak first unless she had to.

As everybody else, he remained rather quiet. However, he was used to being quiet, as stealth was a major part of his survival as a sniper. His chest felt like it was on fire, and as he watched the Reaper seemingly space out, he reached for the medical kit and pulled out a self-inject needle. He quickly used the needle, covering the small puncture with a band-aid. He replaced the medical kit, sighing as he felt the pain drain from his body. He finished running the necessary system checks to ensure the reliability of his mech having to make a diving crash. He looked up, noticing that the fur-coated man had turned and started walking down the tunnel.

Watching the big one- Alexander call for him, he straightened his mech. The oiled gears silently propelled the compact mech after the Reaper. He had no idea where he was. It was best that he followed somebody who did for now, even if he is unstable in the head.

Silently, he pulled his mech closer and began following the motley group of survivors, driven by the Reaper- the spearhead of the group. He pondered the potential fate of this gathering, as he brought up the rear as back up.

The gloom of the tunnel seemed to drag on forever in a single direction, soon made two as the route they had came from was swallowed into the murk as well. Occassionally a side-tunnel would branch out from the main one on which they travelled, prompting Devlin to halt the procession for a minute or two as he inspected the new part of the sewer system. This 'inspection' consisted mostly of frowning, mumbling and glancing at Fong's mech when the path seemed a bit too narrow. Each time though, they eventually began moving straight again.

Silence began to grate at Devlin's nerves after the third hour of travel. What irked him more though, was when it was broken by that squeky-voiced little girl traveling with the woman mage. The armorslayer boy tried to make smalltalk with the civillian couple with little success.

"Sooo..." Alexander was walking backwards, smiling at the couple. "You two got names i'm guessin'."

The man scowled and was about to tell the boy to mind his own business when the woman returned his smile and spoke. "Marie. And he's James."

Alexander's smile widened. "You two must be pretty smart, followin' Reaper instead of that other dude." He slowed down somewhat, now only keeping ahead of James by a single step. A few paces behind the trio now, Reaper noticed that the boy's smile was without mirth or warmth. It was just...there. The act of pulling skin and muscle to bare one's teeth. In other words, the kid knew something that the rest of them did not.

Marie blushed somewhat and shook her head. "No no, it was all James and his..." She stopped talking abruptly as James squeezed her hand hard enough to make the woman yelp.

With an incredible burst of speed Devlin was behind James and pressing the muzzle of his sub-machine gun against the back of the man's skull. Alexander jumped back in surprise, and Marie likewise retreated and called out in shock. "James. I've noticed you've had your hand inside your left pocket since you got down here. Mind showing everyone what you've got there?" When his hostage didn't immediately respond, Reaper turned the safety off of his weapon with an audible click that seemed all too loud in the confined tunnel. James fumbled around in his pocket and produced a small, compass-shaped object. Reaper snatched it up and gave it a look. It was something that Fong and most likely Iris would recognize.

It's tiny screen was almost entirely green, with several miniscule blue dots in the middle with one larger yellow dot and a mass of red behind and around them. A bot-tracker. Created a couple years after the initial invasion, the device was used to keep tabs on every mechanical and biological being with a certain electrical signature--namely the nervous systems of humans and the warriors--within a two mile radius. After only a year of mass-production and use though, the bot-trackers were discontinued. Not only were they extremely inefficient energy-wise, but...

"These damned things work both ways. You can track the bots, but every single bot within two miles gets a bead on your exact location." He slammed it to the ground and smashed the little contraption with his heel. James was sweating profusely now. Marie could only stare in abject horror.

"Th-that's how you knew not to follow Rutherford! Did y-you know that that thing did...that?!"

Crimson pinpoints of light began to appear further down the tunnel, with almost ten times that amount of red eyes glaring from the way that they had come. Reaper' mouth twitched in a grim smile. "You lousy little fuck." His finger pushed down on the trigger, and in the same movement the saboteur kicked James's legs out from under him to avoid making goo out of his brains. The hail of gunfire tore into the first warrior to make it into the group's range of sight. Without turning to regard the rest of the survivors he bolted down the tunnel, blasting down that first bot for good and moving on. "Forget holding this position people, we move, now!"

Already warriors were swarming into the light behind the group and charging the humans. Sachiko hastily erected a cross-hatching barrier of ice but in seconds it was overwhelmed. She was scooped up by Alexander and thrown over his shoulder, and the armorslayer was pumping down after Reaper.

Iris only half-listened to Sachiko as the girl chattered about something or another. Her young companion never seemed to mind, though, and Iris was pretty sure that she just talked to fill the silence most of the time. The woman was silent throughout their numerous stops and starts, only occasionally flicking a glance to one of the other people present. Most of them went unnoticed anyway. The sound of the mech behind her echoed through the tunnels, but not nearly as loudly as it should have. Perhaps it was a stealth-based machine? Just as well, perhaps.

Alex was trying to make conversation of his own, and she caught onto the fact that something was not quite right almost immediately. Being around the kid for the better part of a year or two will do that to you- make you catch on to those little tells. Gray eyes narrowed at the man's white-knuckled grip on his wife. Something wasn't right here...

Before anything else could happen, Richards leaped over and began speaking in a fast, low voice, eventually forcing the man to pull out a bot-tracker. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, and turned around. Sure enough, the eerie glowing lights of what she supposed were the mechanical analogue for eyes were not too far off. Iris's hand tightened on her staff, and she was readying a spell even as Richards opened fire, sending one of the machines staggering back.

Tactical retreat, is it? Works for me, she thought grimly. But they were going to need time. She watched as Alex grabbed Sachiko, whose barrier informed Iris that the girl didn't have a whole lot left, and grimaced. Fine. Inhaling deeply, Iris reached for the magic. It came much more easily to her use now than it had back then. She no longer needed that grasping desperation to call it, that sensation of being backed into a corner like some kind of frightened mouse.

Exhaling, Iris made a shoving motion with her hands, and a wave of kinetic energy lashed out, hitting the first wave of bots and sending them skidding back into their immediate followers with a considerably cacophonous series of metallic crunching noises. Hopefully, that would at least slow their progress considerably, but she wasn't going to stick around and find out. Instead, she was reminded why she was so glad she was accustomed to running fast and far; she caught up with the group in short order, coming to run beside Richards.

"I don't suppose there's a Plan B?" she inquired pointedly, casting a glance back at the rest of the group.

The tunnel was silent. As he progressed behind everybody inside the relative safety of his mech, he felt obligated to scan his surroundings. With nothing but solid bedrock around them, it was extremely hard to discern anything past several meters. Just as well, the razing destruction of the massive convent above was fucking with his goddamn systems. Any more exposure to this heat only yards away from his mech is going to set the thing haywire. So, Fong shut the sensor off.

He only paused as though not to squash anybody down below, but throught he camera feet he noticed a confrontation. Silently, a bullet was loaded into the chamber of the large sniper cannon. The large barrel adjusted itself toward the mass. Had the damned fur-coat lost his mind?

However, his sound feed picked up the rest. Recoiling in his seat, he slammed his hands into the armrests of his chair. "What the hell is that idiot doing bringing a bot-tracking down here..." He muttered angrily, watching with some slight satisfaction when Reaper smashed the infernal device into the ground. It was too late. As quickly as the bots that attacked had appeared, the coated man unleashed sounds of his gun into the first one, sending it reeling. It was time to go.

As the group began a retreat, he noted that the man- James was thrown to the floor. Suddenly, a flash of memory broke into his head. His scout, trapped by a rock as the bots closed in. As crazy as the traitorous pile of shit was, a life was a life. He stalled, directing his small speaker toward the man.

"Listen, James. I don't know what you were planning with that device, but I ain't letting more people die. Not even stupid people." The angry sniper said. "Get your ass up, and move. The next time something like this happens, you're going to be missing a lot more than your cute little tracker." His voice was completely devoid of passion, pity, and contempt. "Go. Now."

The man got up and trailed behind the group. Once again, the sniper brought up the rear. A mass of red lights could be seen now. Rolling out a keypad, he quickly examined the conditions. Perfect- the only thing that had to really be measured was bullet drop for the first shot. The cannon swung around as the mech took one step backward.

His heart beat twice, and he pulled the trigger. The cannon launched the large round straight into the second bot's head, completely rendering it useless. The third shot hit the third bot int he torso, enough to slow it. Creating a small hurdle wasn't enough as these things were as agile as they were endless. He began backpedaling, then began following the group.