[Episode Two] Union

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Alipier Observatory
Landing


Another splash of violet light ruptured from the ground beneath the tiles, seeping straight through them as if made of gas. It formed quickly into a solid but messy crystal, slamming the halved Gargoyle between it and the door with a crash. The flurry of casts had put more strain on Rhea's mind than she could handle, as if something had tugged on her brain by a rope. First came lightheadedness, and the child soon started to feel the world smear around them. With a rush of cold air on her face, Rhea blacked out against the stone floor.

The door now laid half open, forced off its hinges. The purple crystal that had formed quickly started to fade away into nothingness, dropping the now inert Gargoyle against the ground. Dahlia had been flattened against the wall in the process, but looked between the child, robot, and others in a moment of panic. Right after the haze had settled, the captain yanked the child up by the coat and held hoisted them over the shoulder. She kicked the Gargoyle once more for good measure, and turned back to the others, waving her hand towards the open exit. "Out here!"


As the captain made her way out with the injured Rhea, the sawblade wiggled free from the dead Gargoyle. It wiggled until the force snapped it free from its hinge, sending the blade hurtling towards the active robot. To the surprise of Miko, however, the robot met it with equally fast reaction time. One of the two blades on the assaulting Gargoyle popped free, rolling down it's arm and hitting Mikodimus in the chest. It wasn't lethal, but the blade had enough spin to chew through the leather coat he was wearing and get a decent strike at whatever was beneath it.

The Gargoyle tracked the flying blade with high-speed percision as it approached, sticking its now open arm out to socket the blade, just where the other had been. It then, promptly, slapped Mikodimus across the face, catching his chin with the edge of the inert blade as it passed.

Nave

The Gargoyle fell backwards with the weight of Marie's sudden lunge, spasming and smoking from the sudden overload pushed through it. The smell of burnt capacitors filled the air as several flashes of light popped from within its skull. The robot was downed, but Marie was not unscathed. The spun-up saws of the machine had no brakes, and one easily dug through the flesh of her right arm, leaving a trail of blood seeping from around her forearm.

The Gargoyle buckled from the tackle by Deimos, falling forwards. The revving saw blades on its arms came dangerously close to the mans remaining limbs as they fell, but glanced off the tile floor in a flurry of sparks as they lost momentum. The gargoyle kicked in return, kneeing Deimos square in the nose with the hard rubber wheel that was attacked to the front of its knee.


Between the stray revolver shots and the point blank shotgun blast, the Gargoyle looming over Juryrig was sent cartwheeling away in pieces. It evened out into a prone position and rolled away on the kinetic energy from the blast, but was missing an arm and seemed to have lost control of its torso's rotation, leaving it limp.

Keith's problems were far from over, however. As he approached Juryrig with an empty clip, the Gargoyle he left behind caught up with velocity. Sliding by on its heels and elbows, the Gargoyle lashed out a spinning blade, running it clean across the informants left ankle to the bone. The Gargoyle stalled its slide, rolling into a standing position once more between the two. From behind the two came the sound of crashing glass, followed by a rain of shrapnel.

The Pixys were running late. Granted, they had to grab their suits. One of the green and white bouncers that had escorted OSC-01 prior crashed through the top of one of the Observatory windows, trying its best to kick it open but shattering many panes in the process. The Pixy Bouncer landed with a thud ahead of Keith, cleaving down one side of the assaulting Gargoyle with it's pata. Across the Nave, the other two Bouncers emerged from the parlor steps.


---

Ferrus drew back a fist as a Gargoyle lunged at them, throwing it back to smash the lanky robot into the tile floor. Sparks and shrapnel were thrown into the air as the revved saw blades of the Gargoyle struck against the armored palm, the teeth being chewed up quickly. OSC-01 on the other hand took a defensive stance, keeping two invaders at bay with periodic lashes that cleaved away chunks of scrap. "It was lost. I've been awake for less than a week and it's been messy."

The massive golem clenched the heap of scrap that had become of the Gargoyle, throwing it like a boulder into the next that had latched on. Despite the outwardly mixed appearances, the Gargoyles seemed to be moving in synchronization. Ferrus had fallen silent for a moment, but continued the conversation as two more Gargoyles sliced at his arms. "Avani was stirred before I ever was. I awoke about a decade ago, to a massacre. Cold bodies, missing limbs, blood splattered on the walls. Some... Grumman folk from the city down south. I found Avani hiding in the balcony, lost in some fit of hysteria trying to claw her audio receptors out." Ferrus leaned forwards, slamming his right knee into the ground and crushing the latched Gargoyle along with it. "She wasn't herself, and didn't start to surface again until after a hard reset."

OSC-01 stalled for a moment after hearing the incident, and the name. But there wasn't time for that; She waved a hand in a circular motion, but stopped as something completely different drifted from the other end of the hall. What now. "Sounds familiar. What happened after?"

A Gargoyle took the moment, to drive a sawblade down the arm of the Overseer, which resulted in an immediate impalement in backlash. The robot was struck through the chest with the glaive like a kebab.

"I cleaned her up and we gave the lost a service. She was shattered by what happened, insisted on splitting for the moment. 'Said she needed to find some kind of solace with herself." BTC-03 spun their head around between their massive armored collar, looking back at the Overseer. "I thought if anything, she was going to see you." The golem raised his head as he too spotted the strange cloud of edgy armor making its way down the Nave at speed. "What now."

"We didn't end off well last I saw her, but that was..." OSC-01 drew the glaive back, slamming the impaled Gargoyle against the ground. "You seem well, you take these and I'll deal with... that."

With that, OSC-01 pressed away from the brawl and batted the remaining Gargoyle away as she made her way towards the brewing chaos. BTC-03 simply shook his head and returned to the problems at hand.

---

The sweeping hits from Romulus' greatsword did a fair number on both the Gargoyles and Reman caught in its path, knocking both around the Nave with the former splitting at the hip after the second strike. As Romulus reared back for another hit on the group, however, a high pitched whine echoed from his left.

The greatsword was struck not far up from the guard by a white hot glaive thrown like a spear. The tip of the glaive had been charged and seared with a green wave of violent energy, sawing through the other metal blade like a serrated saw as it passed. In the end, the greatsword had been greatly shortened, with a fair chunk of metal broken clean off the side. The glaive quickly lost its energy and guided momentum, sticking to the ground behind Romulus.

OSC-01 stood to the side, trying to keep a firm stance despite looking quite dazed from the throw. The two Pixy bouncers from the parlor rushed to her side. "I don't know who you are, but back off the mechanic or I'll start aiming true."
 
Nave
"But why, oh why would you want me to do that, overseer? Do you not feel the danger you're in? It's a bad proposition to stay here and take care of someone so worthless. Oh well, I'm not here to fight you anyway, I might as well help."

As if the blade itself had never been struck, it quickly healed it's wound, replacing it with a thick strand of metal, fused to the point where the cut was seamless. The remainder fizzled away in a burst of particles, quickly fading moments after. Romulus calmly walked away and aimed for a nearby gargoyle. Briefly running towards it, spearing the machine on his great blade's hilt, then twisting it inside the machine till the blade itself briefly extinguished, before firing off a massive burst of concentrated flame up the blade, as if the whole thing were some great welding torch. The column grew in volume and heat the longer Romulus kept driving it in.

On a private channel, Romulus removed his filter and stopped broadcasting his voice through his armor. His channel was directed to A3, aided by some special filters the institute used to use to keep trade secrets.
"A3, targets are any that look like the one that was atop Beta, eliminate with extreme prejudice. We can't have them harming the crew."
 
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Super Meat Boy's Clubhouse

Arb was, needless to say, displeased with current events. So when an opportunity to escape presented itself, the pocket-pilot didn't hesitate to scramble for the exit. The cold was certainly better than these mechanical abominations... A term with new weight, given Juryrig's... Juryrig-ness.
 
Captain Dhalia's Shoulder

Rhea could hardly understand what was happening to her as the world started to look like somone had stuck it in a blender and put it on high, even if her mind wasn't feeling like slush too. Physically exhausted, and mentally shredded, all she could do was try and suck as much of the so-cold-it-burns air into her lungs as possible. Dhalia though, could feel Rhea grip on her in her woozy state, or making a weak attempt at it any way. It wasn't clear that it could even be counted as a subconcious reaction to an unstable position, but simply rhea clenching her fists as hard as she could... which, was not all that impressive.

"... didn't mean it I... Don't... lock me out..." She mumbled desperately in her delusional, or perhaps nonexistant state of mind. "...ss....cold out here..."
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave

...In hindsight, it was definitely unnecessary to empty all of the revolver's chamber onto that one single gargoyle, given the explosive power the alchemist seemed to harness. Still, Keith continued to sprint toward his crewmate in a half-valiant half-stubborn display of combat tactics—before staggering in place for just a split second at the sight of Juryrig's chest injury and the horrifying "healing" process. A split second too long, it proved to be, as the gargoyle the ex-sergeant previously found himself withdrawing from had managed to seize this advantage to catch up and deliver a wicked slice to his left ankle, catching him off guard and severing his Achilles tendon.

Immediately, Keith attempted to lurch forward, to turn around and retaliate, but only managed to throw himself off-balance on his cut tendon and fall on his back. Kicking his one good leg to scurry back, buying what little time possible to train his revolver's sights on the enemy and pull the trigger...

*Click*.

...

*Clickclickclick*. The chamber was empty, of course. In the heat of the moment, the informant forgot to reload, and now he had a metaphorical hound hot on his literal heels to deal with. No, this couldn't... "You'll die where you stand, you fucking traitor!" why won't it fire? Why can't I stand? "Sarge! My heels, they---I can't run! The bastards!" Not now, not yet, and not like this, "ENEMY FIRE, TAKE--- WE LOST ONE!" no, no this can't be happening it can't "Mercy is the coward's option. It was never ours." be I'msosorryuncleallthatIwantedwasto---

*Crash*. *Thud*... *Clang*. The mechanical sounds and the slight ground quake of something quite heavy landing nearby Keith managed to snap his unfocused gaze back to his enemy, now missing quite a significant portion of their side, and confronting them, a... Pixy Bouncer? That's quite... nevermind that. The injured man could do little but stare back and forth between his impromptu savior and the metaphorical hound, his throat dry and fingers as cold as the very landscape the observatory found itself in. "Th..." he paused, knowing not to rest on the battlefield, yet needing a moment to catch his breath. "T-Thanks. I owe you."
 
Alipier Observatory
Landing


Miko took the saw blade to the chest like a champ. The metal on metal contact making sparks fly all over the place. He was glad his jacket was lined with metal plates else this could have been much worse. He grinned at the Gargoyle knowing he had the upper hand. His vector powers was keeping the saw blade from crushing in his chest as he formulated his next plan of action. Then the Gargoyle made its biggest mistake. As the blade bitch slapped Miko across the face he for a moment had flash backs.

He remembered how his abusive father would beat his mother in front of his eyes. The smile across his face as she cried out for him to stop hurting her. Miko at the time was powerless to help but wanted nothing more than to stop him. At times he would attempt to help only to be struck down himself.

As his head looked back up towards the Gargoyle the fire in his eyes was unmistakable. Blood dripped from his chin for just a moment before it stopped. His grin returned as he pulled himself out of flashback hell. He heard not a sound around him as his powers welled up inside him. As his focus sharpened his vectors increased in strength. At first it was 5 fold, then 10 and kept increasing. His hands moved to palm up as he pictured the parts of the Gargoyle. Then with a smile he said but one word, "stop" as his powers unleashed.
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave

The oddly friendly and supportive Juryrig(?), after working with Keith to finish the Gargoyle in front of him in spectacular fashion, was about to make a breakneck dash to see what he can do, possibly help Keith out, but then he immediately remembered Dahlia called for a retreat. Yeah, retreat. Retreat. That caused him to stop before he even began to move.

"You know what, retreat sounds great! HIYAH!" The alchemical horse shuddered, and galloped quickly towards the exit upon command.

"Scout, haversack!" The Scout stopped shooting at Gargoyles to grab the haversack that was thrown to the side, while Juryrig(?) grabbed Munchie on the way out. The voices in his head told him to just defend himself and get out whenever he got the chance, and he's taking that immediately. Juryrig(?) isn't a fighter, he's... He's a scientist. Alchemist. He just wanted to help.

... It dawned upon him that, literally, Juryrig(?) can't remember how he got here, let alone why he's here at all. Where's home?
 
The kick to his face was enough to send Deimos' figure tumbling through the room in a crumpled mess, only for him to catch himself on the tile. He dug his hand into the ground, the metal fingertips clawing scrapes through the tile flooring. He stood poised on all fours like a feral beast. He needed just one minute to breathe as he eyed his target over. He knew that, by the time he got next to it, the machine would most likely be upright.

He just had to keep an eye out for that saw lest he go from 3/4 to 1/2. It was just his luck that he landed beside the scrap metal courtesy of Juryrig and Keith. He reached down to grab a hold of what seemed to be the remaining parts of the creature's arm, the saw bent and mangled like putty. As much of a lunatic he perceived the Alchemist to be, the destructive might he presented was nothing to be scoffed at. Without it, he wouldn't have some nifty new gear to fashion into his arm.

He recalled what the runecrafter said about his limb. So long as it's somehow attached to his arm, he may wield it. He plunged his hand into the body of the gargoyle - or at least what remained of it - and pulled with all of his might. He felt the phantom limb seep out from his gauntlet, ebbing into every pore of the machine in search of what would make a suitable arm equivalent. He didn't know what he was going to get once his gauntlet was pulled out - or if it would just be a mangled mess of wires clumped around his arm. Regardless, anything would be better against that creature than going in empty-handed.
 
Well...errr...now what? Now Marie was stuck with a heap of metal and she hardly had the time to disassemble it. She probably, probably wasn’t strong enough to start tearing its arms off, although it didn’t hurt to try.

She ripped a strip of cloth off her coat, bandaging the strip of exposed flesh oozing blood. She was fortunate it was only a scratch, albeit a nasty one. No impact to her overall performance, unless if the bandage failed to hold. Adrenaline was to be thanked for the pain being only a dull ache. She then started pulling on the arm, trying to detach it for her uses.
 
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Alipier Observatory
Nave


As Romulus twisted the blade into the Gargoyle, it was engulfed in the searing flames. The end result of the combination was an incapacited and charred Gargoyle, which had become spot welded to the metal portion of the blade. Another Gargoyle lunged at the man from above, as if they had slipped off the balcony to find him. Sparks spewed into the air as it dug its saw blade down into the back of his right shoulder.


OSC-01 wasn't finished with the armored man, but was rudely interrupted by an assault from the back by another Gargoyle, seemingly out of thin air. This Gargoyle was different, however; Its left arm lacked a saw and instead came equipped with some kind of bulky scanner attached at the forearm. the end of the scanner bore a circular port, lined with lights and some kind of exposed conductor wrapped around the end- almost like an antenna.

The Overseer pulled their arms towards her chest as the Gargoyle attempted to slam the side of her head, thrusting her elbows back in retaliation. The folded feathers floating free from their arm punctured the sides of the attached robot, impaling them through the ribcage. The closest Pixy Bouncer finished the job, flinging the assailant off their host like a catapult.

OSC-01 spun around to check for more assailants, but instead found Ferrus in an equally bad situation. The golem had seized movement with its arm held in the air, a similarly sneaky Gargoyle perched atop their shoulder. The Gargoyle had pressed the almost cannon-like module against the head of BTC-03, emitting a high pitched whine as... whatever the machine was performed its work.

The Overseer spouted something intangible towards the golem, to no response. Before the Overseer could retrieve their weaponry, the other Bouncer has sprung into action. It sprinted towards the pair at an alarming speed, leaping with a spiral as it slammed its blade into the assaulting Gargoyle. The two machines tumbled off the other side of the giant, narrowly avoiding being flattened as it came crashing against the nave floor.

---

The Bouncer that leapt to Keith's aid had paused for a moment after cleaving the Gargoyle in two, but soon recovered. It continued on without a word of acknowledgement to the thanks. Did it know it? Could it communicate? Clearly more than six days would be needed to know the true nature of the Pixy triad.

As Deimos shoved his metal arm through the machine, the arcane limb started to pick apart the machinery at the joint. After much tugging, the gauntlet surfaces from the decrepit machine, with a whole slew of metal intertwined with it. Meshed in between the metal of the regular gauntlet was the warped and dirty arm of the Gargoyle, albeit shifted to better fit the gauntlet. At the end of the gauntlet laid the powered saw grip, resting just far above Deimos' hand to not damage it as it spun, mounted almost like an offensively sharp shield. The controller for the sawblade on the other hand was... somewhere dangling off a loose wire. For now, he had a full-speed circular saw docked at the wrist.

Likewise, Marie was able to eventually rip the arm off of the other Gargoyle- albeit in a much less graceful way. She had effectively garnered a metal slapstick, complete with limp hand- but in the end, that was all she needed wasn't it?

There was one last Gargoyle by the group, between them in the exit from the nave to the stairwell out. It looked as if it was started to count the odds of the situation, paused. Perched far behind the Gargoyle was an all-black drone similar in shape to the Pixy units accompanying the group. A single orange slit had been watching the chaos unfold.


The Gargoyle in front of Mikodimus reeled its arm back for a sweeping strike as the man stood there unresponsive. The robot was howerver stopped, as if it had frozen solid. The saws and joints of the machine came to a sudden, cold jam- with violent results. The motors driving them over-torqued, grinding loudly as the machine was ripped apart in the reversed force. The arms of the Gargoyle came clean off as the saw bladed spring off like an over-wound toy, ripping out steaks of cabling and poorly-fastened metal behind it. The remaining torso of the Gargoyle fell to the ground, leaking brownish oil all over the stairs leading out of the building.

---

OSC-01 rushed towards her fallen comrade from the side of the nave, as most of the aggressors in the area had been eliminated or occupied. BTC-03 was downed and unresponsive, the light coming from the dual square exhaust ports on their back dimmed to a flicker. The Overseer tried to push the incredibly heavy arm of the Breaker-Type out of the way, to no effect. As she pressed back, dark indigo oil seeped from her arm where the Gargoyles had made a decent strike, enough to nick a hydraulic line.

The Overseer abandoned the attempt to flip, instead kneeling beside the unmoving golem. For a moment, there was a break in her usual demeanor. "Ferrus, Ferrus. Do you hear me? Get up." OSC-01 waved her hand above the golems palm, trying to form a communication link. "It's me, Tara. You took a hit."

There was no link, but soon BTC-03 started to move. The reactor ports on their back flared up once more, emitting a large amount of heat and air. With a disjointed grumble, the golem pressed its hand against the floor. It moved up to it's knees, holding still as they reobtained their bearings. The Overseer let their head hang freely as if there was a neck to hold it on, looking to the floor with relief. The Breaker-Type pulled its massive arm off the floor, clenching it against their chest. "Thank the stars. I thought they managed to fry y-"

The Overseer was interrupted in their moment of respite, as their 'comrade' sent the clenched arm swinging back. With an echoing crash, the attack connected and OSC-01 was sent cartwheeling through the Nave. The thrown Overseer first slammed into Reman, who had just recovered only to be slammed against the cold hard floor once once more.

OSC-01 hit the floor again farther down the Nave, sliding past Keith as their limp body bumped and ground to a halt. The disembodied head and weaponry of the Overseer was strewn behind them in a trail, with their inert triangular head bouncing to a stop not far from their body- all the way on the other side of the room.

At the launch point, BTC-03 stood back to their full height. Slowly, they regained their footing and turned to face Reman, Keith, and Romulus with a hollow visor.



Mountainside
Courtyard


Dahlia
held the barely conscious thief to their shoulder, making their way out into the snowed-over courtyard. The bitter wind and cold had begun to set in once more, with a light layer of snowy fog obscuring the incredibly steep trail down the other end of the mountain. The captain turned with a jump as another loud crash echoed out of the observatory- metal on metal.

The captain exhaled with a puff of visible breath, counting heads. Not everyone was out. "Arbs, call the ship while the weather's clear."

She exhaled a few more times, looking around. There weren't any visible threats but the penetrating chill in the area. There was nothing they could do but wait. A large stone fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, carved full of intricate designs but long dried and filled with snow. While walking paths had been cleared, the crew could feel stone pads jut out from underneath the remaining cover of snow, most likely brick planting boxes. At the other end of the courtyard, facing the path down the mountain was a grouping of large metal stakes made of wrought iron. They appeared to be decorative spears, likely once a part of a tall fence. Small but shiny objects hung from them by black strings.
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave

Situation assessment.
First off... those little smug, not-smug pixies. Damn, even a "you're welcome" would have sufficed.
Second off... what in the seven hells, was gargoyle wielding some sort of disruptor? Is "allegiance" a variable?
Third off... oh fuck, we're so dead.

Under BTC-03's now antagonistic glare, the informant pushed himself up from the ground as hurriedly as he could, though his injured heel did him no favors. That golem could easily pound anyone into an unrecognizable meat paste given the chance— he had to do something, and do it fast. Tara was incapacitated, Reman a slowpoke as always, the armorclad knight... mysterious, and Keith himself injured. The rest of the crew were already within safety's grasp near the entrance behind the dispersed cloud of smoke. Limping into a crouching stance, supporting himself by his hands on the floor, the soldier analyzed his options: the obvious choice, of course, was to escape, yet he doubted he could do that while unable to run; conversely, the idiotic choice would be to stay still while welcoming fate.

There was one final option, the foolhardy, and the most likely to get him out while still buying some time for the others. He'd have to draw BTC-03's attention to himself. It seemed like a "flirting with death" kind of deal, but what else could he do? Keith didn't know enough about Breaker-Types to draw the conclusion for sure (hell, their technology's been defunct for who knows how long), but if OSC-01 could notice his cloak signature, then it was a gamble on whether BTC-03 had the same ability. If it did, hiding would be no use, and the chance would be on outrunning the golem, something physically impossible for him then and there.

Nevermind that. A soldier's duty is to fight for their country, yes. That didn't matter much anymore. More importantly, a soldier's duty... to protect their comrades, to protect those they care for. The ex-sergeant wasn't sure if he cared about the Downrider crew that much yet, but they were his comrades now, damn it, and he wasn't about to let himself be a failure again. Within a split second, anxiety turned to resolve as he knelt on his injured leg for bracing, unholstering his modified anti-materiel rifle from around his back and pulling the pin on one of his remaining EMP grenades. "...I'll hold the line," said Keith said quite solemnly, bracing the barrel of the silenced battle rifle on his leg and the stock against his shoulder. He dropped his formal tone. "You a big guy, ain'tcha? Easy target. Try not to damage ya much, though... HEIAP shells should hurt."

The click of the box maganize attaching to its rightful slot. The cocking of the gun's handle. And then, the quiet before the storm. The sounds of war, as the soldier had come to learn them. He aimed low, once more going for the leg joints on the massive behemoth. It would have a fair chance of missing, given he didn't bother on looking through the scope at all... but Keith was confident with the size of his target, he wouldn't need it. "Eat tungsten, assholes."

The bullet fired at about the same time the grenade went off, the projectile soaring to its target in tandem with the electromagnetic blast expanding throughout the room. The recoil on the sniper rifle was strong, almost throwing the informant off-balance onto the ground, but his resolve held stronger as he stood up to limp over to a farther firing position, cocking the handle once more. Thank the heavens for silencers, otherwise he'd be deaf by now. He repeated this tactic of shoot-and-scoot over and over, moving closer to OSC-01 each time and picking up her disembodied head halfway through the magazine.
 
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Alipier Observatory
Nave


Mikodimus was pleased with the results. Watching the Gargoyle break apart felt very satisfying. He paused for a moment to scan the room around him looking for friends. They too seemed to be making short work of the Gargoyles. Then his eye were fixed on the behind of Marie. Generally speaking his focus was just enough to keep his vectors from running completely out of control. Now however his focus was perfectly sharp and he noticed things that were always there but never registered. Maybe it was that time back at the bar or maybe the fact she just ripped an arm off a Gargoyle. Either way he was doing everything in his power to not be drown down this path.

He knew if he was not careful that his vector powers would burst uncontrolled. It was like trying to control an explosion to knock down a building. Just one miscalculation and it would cause a nasty chain reaction. He had to release this power in such a way as to not cause extreme damage to everything around himself. He also had to be quick about it cause his mind started to fill with unsafe images. Just as one of those images took hold he jerked his head to the side and locked onto Deimos. His last thought was of clothes blowing off, as he released his powers.
 
Nave

Reman was out cold after the collateral damage, the suit fading slowly after his last movements were spent reaching his hand out to run. The armor soon faded, the bracer still on his wrist, though upon inspection, he had undergone a few changes.

For one, the human arm now was black as pitch, covered in his usual "feathers" now aligned like scales from the elbow upwards. His hand resembled more a grisly talon, one made by a bird of prey to grasp its dinner, each finger leathery, and sharp at their tips. Bits and pieces of his arm emitted a strange glow that went back and forth from a bright mint green to a deep, sinister purple. The mechanic had started to resemble more monster than man.

-----

Romulus noticed a familiar pattern, and out of anger, pulled the blade out of the gargoyle, dissolving just the edge where it was welded to the component, and regenerating it within microseconds. Looking back and forth between the beast and the machine before him, he had to make a critical choice. Begrudgingly accepting his fate, he switched the key in his driver to the yellow one, and dissolved Inferno into his armor. The armor did its familiar ring pattern, before switching the hue of the suit, only altering its shape slightly. The greatsword dissipated leaving Alpha instead a huge rod, the end resembling a Tesla Coil and Railgun hybrid. He spun the staff around, before swallowing his pride.

"Tara, was it? I'm sorry for what I'm about to do to your comrade, but I can't have him harming the crew, I'll keep him as intact as possible IF he's still in there."

He then pulled the trigger a few times on the gun on his hip, looking to be welded to his armor by the material on the outside. The staff charged up, the rod at its end glowing a bright white-yellow hue, arcing at its tip, back down to the hilt.

30% CHARGE - VOLTAGE BREAK

The rod end was pointed square at Ferrus's right arm, about to discharge at any moment.
 
Outside... It's ducking cold out here still.

Arbs sighed some steam out of her mouth before pulling out her minipad and remotely activating the Downrider. It'd take a couple minutes to fly through the atmosphere, still. But at least it'd be visible on the horizon soon enough, as long as nothing is in the way. Like the others, the pilot turned at the extra-loud crash, but then asked Dahlia, "What's our plan for them? Pick up anyone that comes out, ditch them, or do you want to break in through the roof like last time?"

She didn't like the idea of leaving everybody inside behind, but she also didn't make the decisions around here. Dahlia did.

"Oh, and if we need to end up dragging that big bot inside, We'll probably need to plan ahead on that one. Make room in the trunk or something."
The Downrider has a cargo bay... Ish. It's small enough that it's more of an oversized trunk for a car.
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave


See, Juryrig(?) thought leaving would be a great idea, but then he saw the robot named Osco go down hard and fast, with a injured Keith going to pick her up, and there was also that one guy turning into a scary bird thing! He had to admit that this is new and it kinda freaked Juryrig(?) out, but even he can see that all in all, people might die. He needs to do something!

All the sudden, a familiar voice popped up in his own head, clearer and distinct and filled with attitude. "Hey Tom, can you not go and be a hero? Because you sure as hell aren't a hero!"

Tom could only mentally respond back in kind, only more politely. "But they need all the help they can get, Juryrig! I know a bad time when I see one, and this looks bad!"

"Aw goodie, Miss Saltania's Lil' Helper, you want to get yourself KILLED! Just do what Blueberry just said less than five minutes ago!"

"I am so sorry," Tom says, pushing Juryrig deeper into his mind, "but we need more teammates here!"

"But do you even know what we're doing..."

"CAN'T HEAR YOU SORRY!" Tom over-steered Horsie right before officially leaving the building. Tom has no idea on who these people really are, and even now he's having a hard time remembering names, but he does not want to just let people die; he'd rather try and save someone, anyone. "Scout, gimme the bag," he then says, reaching out for the haversack in Boy Scout's possession, to in which the robot obliged. As Horsie rapidly approached, Tom took out a handful of items he absolutely wanted and stuffed them in his coat, before swinging the large haversack over his shoulder; thanks to... some reason that Tom doesn't know, he was scarily quick in the hands.

"Munchie, Scout, tag team!" Upon command, Munchie latched onto the flying robot with its tongue, and then the two take off together to keep the juggernaut occupied like the cannon fodder they pretty much are. Of course, the EMP may make things more complicated... As well as the juggernaut being strong as hell in general.

Meanwhile, Tom stalled by Osco and Keith, jumped off the six-legged spidery table, and joined the ex-sergeant with his own sound-based, concentrated firepower of the Blunderbass. "Hey, I am so sorry, but I'm here, and I will do whatever I can do to help, and I am so so SO sorry! Let's get that robot thing on the table thing and start backing out, huh? Because I have no idea what's going on, but that guy looks like bad news."
 
Mountainside
Courtyard

Captain Dhalia's Arm

"Nuurgh... Didn't mean... to hurt him he was... in the way..." Rhea's mumbles continued... for a few more brief moments. It was difficult to say wether she was having a fever dream about what just happened, or remembering something from sometime ago, but at least she was almost up to complete sentences now. Either way, dhalia soon found rhea had managed to completely secure herself to one of her arms, and her breathing had quickened. She was making an effort to wake up, but it seemed fairly futile so soon after the inciting incident to even try it.

However, she did manage to ask "... captain..?" As she looked around blearily, unaware she was riding on said person's shoulder.
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave

AMIDST THE CHAOS

It had been years since Deimos felt a rush like this, cold blood surging through his veins like an iv of pure adrenaline. His eyes dilated, fixated on his rising foe just before him.

Without concentrating , the sawblade would turn idly like a lazy waterwheel unaware of the ensuing battle in the village around it - but all it took was a moment of awareness for the blade to whir to life with all the vigor of a souped up death frisbee.

Perhaps he now understood what the more off-kilter of his crewmates experienced. The combat high. Yet he knew good and well that he would have troubles recovering from the resulting pit in his stomach afterwards.

He watched as the engineer - the woman he had tried to aid - busied herself in a similar task of obtaining a weapon before affixing his gaze on the mound of metal he had yet to fully finish off. One that was steadying itself nearby. A perfect target for the fox-boy to rush. To finish off. He bent his knees and kicked off of the tile floor, his arm revving to life with a loud squeal and a roar that he pushed out of his lungs.

Then came the cold breeze.

It were as though a rush of air blew past him, and only him, yet without the wind. Like fishing hooks looped through every fiber of his clothes and tugging away in different directions. Every seam popped away like something out of a cartoon. His clothes were pinned to the wall while the naked fox stood there with his revved up blade.

It was obvious that he was jarred, eyes widened at the robot who most likely had no sense of the boy's embarrassment- though it could probably detect the immediate influx of heat around his entire body.

He had no time to question what had just happened. No time to look around for a cultprit... though there he stood in the middle of the room, pasty from his days cooped up and near shivering from the chilled wind that billowed through the open evacuation door.

Deimos only thought "There is no way that I'm going to die like this."
 
Nave

Perfect. An arm. Something controllable that conducts electricity. She took some time to learn how the servos were connected to the arm, and after a bit of the arm bending and flexing around.

The sound of Reman’s driver disengaging caused her to look up. Reman’s driver spat out its final bit of diagnostic information into hers before going dormant again. But tat wasn’t the concern. The concern was the big, hulking machine that was very ominously looking at her crewmates. Maybe, just maybe...an arm wasn’t enough.
 
Alipier Observatory
Nave


The giant slowed it's approach briefly as it's secondary target disappeared into thin air. It took a moment to scan the air, before a metal round hit them in the shoulder. The heavy caliber bullet struck them in the knee and.... glanced off with a minor chink. Round after round, the bullets dealt minimal damage. At most, they had landed a few dents and gashes in the surface of the golems armor. It would seem that the golem was built to last.

As Keith gripped the lost head of the thrown Overseer, he could feel a gentle tug pull at it from behind. Then came a yank, as the head was pulled away from him haphazardly in the direction of OSC-01. It bounced across the ground, eventually finding its place in front of the robot. He had bigger problems to deal with, however. BTC-03, or whatever remained of it, had caught on to his game. With the alarming sound of crunching wood, Keith found an old pew being swung in his general direction like a tossed bat. It was coming apart as it approached, but it wouldn't be pleasant regardless.

BTC-03 turned its attention to the alchemist's fodder that surrounded it. Like the sniper rounds, the attacks thrown by the mechanical beasts were minimal at best. The golem raised it's fist once more, preparing to slam it down into the two before the EMP grenade thrown by Keith detonated. The juggernaut halted for a moment, not deactivated but certainly caught by the grenade.

---

Across the hall, the Overseer's body shifted. Soon their wayward head gravitated towards the body, hearing their name called once more; tͭͭͭaͣͣͣrͬͬͬaͣͣͣ.

Tara responded with a quiet but incoherent noise, slowly pressing herself off the tile floor with her good arm. "I might have deserved that." Her head dangled like a ball on a string, but was forced to look up into the quiet Nave. She felt the side of her pyramidal face with her limp hand, rubbing the new-found rolls and dinks along the bottom edge of their chin. Step by step, the Overseer unsteadily rose into a slouched stance, clearly not at their best. She looked from one end of the dimly lit Nave to the other, looking for the source of the call.

"Tara," came the voice again. She swiveled around to face the Breaker-Type, dressed in fine silk robes of white and gold. He stood hunched over in front of the observatory's looking glass, making the pristine stargazing machine look like a toy in comparison. Standing next to him was another Overseer, wearing a blue scarf and a rather elegant white band affixed around the forehead. One folded wing laid on the shoulder of the hunched behemoth, joining him in staring out into the night sky. "You need to come take a look."

Tara paused for a moment, recollecting herself. One step at a time, they wandered over to join the other two. The words exited their mouth as it was played back on a record. "What is it, Ferrus?"

Ferrus leaned back from the glass with a grunt, allowing her into the viewing pane along with the other Overseer. The telescopic rig was fixed on a certain position, now devoid of light. Ferrus was blunt with the matter, wanting not to think over the words. "The archstar. It's withdrawn."

Tara leaned over and stared out into the starless view, fallen silent. The tunnel back to the city, gone in an instant. "So... this is it, then. We're here."

The accompanying Overseer in blue huffed quietly. The event was inevitable, predicted well in advance; however early it came. Still, the news was a bitter sting to hear only just after her proper retirement. Her sister's detached reflection was only the icing on the cake. "We're not here, we're deserted." The Overseer in blue huffed once more, pushing away from the glass and through the nearly-identical OSC-01 on her way towards the exit. Ferrus's gaze followed them. "Ava, we knew this would happen."

Avani jolted a wing upward with a snap, directed less at the Breaker-Type and more at the mirror. "And maybe we should have stayed. Let our baron-designated leader bail for herself."



Tara pressed away from the looking glass, moving in photographic synchronization. She turned back to give pursuit to the Overseer in white, but found herself lost in muffled noise. "will do whatever I can do to help, and I am so so SO sorry!"

OSC-01 halted without a word, looking down at a rather supportive Juryrig as he backed up in front of her. The Nave was in absolute chaos- pews were being thrown, cracks of bullets rang out, smoke was billowing from the exit, Squall was down, and- oh.

The Overseer spun around to her right, looking towards the exit. There was no Overseer in white and blue, nor had there been. She swung her head back to look at the viewing pane behind her only to be met with a bit of shock. There was no Breaker-Type hunched over the glass, certainly not one in such proper robes. Instead there was only a single glaive, stuck punched straight through the shattered looking glass and into the defiled machine with her landing.

The unstable OSC-01 was brought back to alarming reality as another loud crash rang out from the Nave.

---

The charged rail of Romulus' own polearm lashed out, striking the Golem with a pronounced arc. The Breaker-Type's arm flailed, locking up as the bolt connected. For a moment, it seemed that the consecutive strikes had frozen the beast. However, the moment was quickly disproven as one of Juryrig's abominations was hurled directly at Romulus with great velocity.

In his moment of embarrassment, the attack against the Gargoyle was interrupted. Taking the moment, the Gargoyle lunged between Deimos and Marie, sticking its arms out in an attempt to cut two down at once.

Courtyard

Dahlia braced herself against the cold wind as the hum of the Downrider's engines grew in the distance. She heard the crews voices ring out beside her, but it was met only with a stalled. "Eeeerhhmmmm..."

The truth was, she didn't know. She didn't have a plan for a case this bad. The captain had raised her hand briefly to direct her muscle back in, but she quickly came to the realization that there was none left. Dahlia looked frantically from side to side, avoiding eye contact with the pilot. She sucked in a heavy breath, passing the partly-conscious child to the pilot. "Hold... onto her."

The captain walked back towards the blaze and watched as the Downrider peeked over the ridge, slowly weighing her options. No, there shouldn't be these kinds of options. That's what she expected when she took this on, right? That wasn't an option. Was it? So, Dahlia sucked her gut up and pressed on back through the door into the Nave. There, she first found Mikodimus' unconscious body. Heavy bastard, she thought to herself as she gripped the mercenary by the shoulders.

Halfway down the steps, the captain was alarmed to find the weight of the other half of the mercenary lifted as well. One of the Pixy Bouncers had come from the Nave, gripping the man by the leg on the way down to the Courtyard. Granted, their speed nearly knocked Dahlia over in the process.

As they set Mikodimus on the ground against the fountain, Dahlia pointed at the Bouncer. "Find the others."

The Bouncer begrudgingly returned to the Nave, taking orders from the captain-in-command.
 
Alpier Observatory
Nave


There was nothing barring the slice that racked across the smaller male's chest save for a quickstep backwards and an attempt to shove the arm away. He had been too dazed by the sudden turn of events and the lack of any garments that he was effectively left wondering if he was going insane this entire time. The burning puddle across his chest told him otherwise.

That chill that bit his skin and rushed in every last artery felt different from the red crimson heat that now dotted the floor. He wailed as he reeled back. From his right shoulder to his left rib the slice had torn cleanly, carving down to the bone. Any movement was... a chore to say the least, and even his newfound power was enough to put a strain on the ribbons of pectoral muscles.

But he couldn't just stand there.

Labored, bleeding, unable to focus on the madness about the room besides his foe, the fox would find himself in a primitive state of "do or die" as he charged towards the gargoyle with the saw spinning faster, its whine echoing out between the sounds of gunfire and whirring electronics. "They dragged me... from this place... so I wouldn't JOIN THEM HERE!" His heavy panting turned to screams as he attempted to draw his blade through the beast. It didn't matter what he lost at this point so long as the others had a chance to get out. As long as one of these things were standing, they were a threat.

In his maddened state, he hadn't even noticed the wounds of his teammates, the damage done to Osco, or the lost consciousness of Miko - not even the transformation of Reman.
 
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