DeviousMe

((Well congratulations. ))

"I've got a pulse." Vlasta stated grimly, not taking his eyes off Burning Brawler's charred form, "It's on the clock. Wolfgang?"

The cyborg gave his head a sideways bob, a gesture to underscore the uncertainty, "I don't know. It's pretty severe. But I'll try."

Tossing his rifle over shoulder by the strap, the metal Caldok kneeled by the broken human while Teivos rose to make him space, then set his fingers onto Burning's throat and chest, willing his 4th-generation nanobase into the man. The repercussions lashed at him almost immediately, a wave of agony striking the cyborg, but if there was one thing Wolfgang Wolf was familiar with, it was pain. Thus he attempted to form a conduit, to take the human's pain away and restore him to health right here and now, the nanobase tasked with physical regeneration while Wolfgang himself took Burning's pain upon his shoulders.

If this succeeded though, he wouldn't stop there. No, the resulting inner quake required a release, and what better target than the man whose pain had brought it on? He would channel and additional pulse into Burning, a temporary burst of tremendous power that would make the man an inexhaustible killing machine; a painbringer, as some people had come to call it.

Regrettably, the others about didn't get the chance to see the result right then, a brilliant flash of light blinding all about. Sure, eyes closed and filters went, but still everyone saw spots for a short while. Luckily, the effects it brought along worked to the Pozemna Armada's advantage...well, sort of. The light tanks closing in were doubly struck as both their own structures and that of the road beneath them suddenly failed, knocking them out of the fight with a snap of imaginary fingers, but at least the latter also applied to the hostile forces assaulting the crater position - and that stood protected by the M7A7, the hovertank's Odcarovat forming a sort of magic umbrella for those beneath.

Even Hotaka wasn't left unscathed, the ground beneath his feet becoming unsupportive from one instant to another, and if he hadn't taken flight then and there, that cheating tin can of a tank surely would've won. The dragon couldn't help but curse. What in blazes was Sun Tzu's deal here?! Couldn't he even control his own forces?!

Of course, he had no time to ponder this, the tank still on him like the proverbial monkey on one's back, except in this case it was more like a gorilla. Fortunately, by now Hotaka had figured out how its pilot thought - and upon it evading another lash of his tail, the dragon breathed into its path a squall of venom-green flame, bathing the machine in a stream of vilest toxins and corrosives that immediately set to work.

True, they didn't cause a much structural damage, but this stuff got in everywhere, eating away at engines, control surfaces, antennae, what have you. In short, the tank spun out like a racecar, crashing into and through the nearest grove of trees. It may have been far from destroyed, but without navigation and control, good luck having it do anything resembling useful from here on. Hotaka just hoped these guys weren't smart enough to turn it into an artillery piece.

Of course, that was when the second tank got the order to engage, and Hotaka yet again spasmed with a burning pain against his side, crashing over unto the unstable road. He groaned bitterly. This just wasn't his day. Looking up into the sky, he saw the exchange intensify. Truth be told, he didn't even know what Sun Tzu was thinking anymore. Was the man after the Sovereign or the transport choppers? It had seemed to Hotaka to be the former. But then, why wasn't he down here helping out? The helos looked to be the more difficult target anyway, the aerial combat forces running smart interference to cover their rather speedy retreat.

The dragon rumbled a sigh. To think, all he had wanted to do was get a look at Teivos. Maybe a short conversation. What was it with humans and this 'ready, fire, aim' stuff? Oh well. Not like he had time to think about it. After all, there was still a hovertank headed for him...

--------------------

"Yeah." Griffin nodded in a gradual, unhappy manner, eyes downcast, "But I'm pretty sure Player wrecked it - and where...the owner is, that I don't know."

And I don't want to either.

"I doubt there would've been anything to help you, though." he looked up again, "It was focused on bio-stuff, making weapons, not going anywhere. As for Babe..."

The griffin put a hand to the back of his head, shifting about his long, red hair, "...that's actually a good question. I thought he was a mountain dragon...then it turns out he's some kind of robot...I think. You know...come to think of it, I really don't know. The chips, however, I can explain to you. What they're good for is..."

A brilliant flash interrupted his sentence, Yinglong's magic wave crumbling the both the buildings about and the concrete of the very ground, an earthquake nothing compared to the paraspatial lash. Griffin held his footing though, despite teetering a bit in an effort to stay on his feet, arms outstretched in a wobbly manner to maintain balance.

Oddly enough, the immediate vicinity remained solid even as chaos gripped everything outside that small, unseen bubble, ripping the targeted materials apart. Well, not quite unseen. But only the keenest of observers would've noted the faint, barely visible shimmer that had attached itself to the immediate surroundings, as well as the clothes and equipment of the people within. Guns, armor, grenades, all the stuff one would've expected to bite it, stayed decidedly normal.

The cause was of course far from inexplicable, especially once the shaking stopped. Even without Griffin's shifted stance, back ducked halfway, arms bent at the elbows and fingers spread out as if he were holding something only he could see, any sensor capable of detecting thus would've made out the telekinetic force that had held stuff together.

"...that." the griffin smiled slightly, looking about to make sure it was over before gradually returning to a normal posture, "They're good for that..."

Niiiice.

Oh, most definitely. Swimsuits, huh? I think I've got just the thing. I seem to recall a swimsuit contest in Pocket D a few years back, and we had some very interesting participants, so you know what? In appreciation for including me, I'm going to toss some out here for your consideration. You said you weren't adverse to drawing guys, right? Anyway, if you would like:



Toy Dispenser: a very odd and very colorful sort of sentient android, shown here as his heroic alter ego Toy Blaster (he's actually a mastermind ). He showed up with most of his armor plating gone and wearing a speedo. You can probably imagine that everyone was glad Pocket D doesn't actually have anything to swim in. All those wires plus water were a scary thought - though whether it's a more scary than a robot in a speedo, this I will leave up to you.

Note: like the Dark Dragon, this guy belongs to a pal of mine, in this case Khellendrosiic.

OR

Acid Zero: if metal and circuits aren't to your liking, this not-so-reptilian alien (and my main) was another one of our stranger appearances, mostly because in his culture clothing is optional (useful for keeping warm - and pockets; can't forget pockets), so it's usually not worn at all while swimming. Sure, not like he has any visible naughty bits, but just the concept of being nude still caused a few odd looks, especially when a dude this skinny tried to flex muscles.

I say not-so-reptilian because he has no scales, just a tough, hairless hide, and the only difference between his and human feet is that he has claws instead of toenails, like on his fingers. I just can't draw feet at all, so I left them out back there.

Note: yes, my avatar is based on that sketch, which a friend had to make for me because I don't have the guts to color it. Like LadyJudgement though, she's got this thing against metal, so no robot for the color version. Also he's supposed to be the same shade of green all over. Oh, and yes, he'll wear a swimsuit - he just doesn't much see the point.

OR

Warmaster Kul'bere: if you'd really prefer a woman, I pose to you a little challenge; namely this here ice queen. Yup, she's a Rikti, and I don't know if they wear swimsuits, but the thought of her in a bikini made over a dozen people roll on the floor in laughter, so I think it's an idea that has merit.



So yeah, whichever you prefer. I'm biased toward my main of course, but don't let that ifluence your decision. Feel free to pick any and all you like.

Huh, I never knew there were people around here who liked to color stuff just for the fun of it. That said, that is a pretty sick piece of work there. Wow.

Oh no, you both misunderstand. I by no means think this story has troubles. It's a good, straightforward read, allows for interpretation with very little effort, and definitely gets the feel across. All I'm saying is there's room for improvement, which is true of just about every written work.

Now regarding the specific questions, the imagery could be much improved by names and subjects being substituted with synonyms that carry an adjective or two as tagalong descriptor. I see this somewhat in the beginning, where colors are used to describe robed mages, as well as an aged appearance to further Alanak, among other examples, but soon after that such descriptors not only become a little less, but at times disappear entirely, most prominently when Ici enters the picture. Then I see an abundance of 'Ici' and 'she', but not much that refreshes the picture of her in my mind, such as for instance, 'the young woman', 'the pale-skinned girl', or 'the blue of her school uniform fluttered in the wind as she' dot dot dot. Using color, size, and movement as descriptors in such situations often adds a lot to even the simplest actions.

Adding sound would do likewise, conveying to the reader mood and emotion, aside from the obvious nuances of hard and soft. Again I find some of this in the beginning (with Walter's 'deep, powerful' voice - 'powerful' is especially strong imagery there), but it doesn't really continue. Imagery isn't just how things look, it's how they walk, talk, the whole nine yards. Dropping just a hint of such at close, but not overbearing intervals keeps the reader's mind processing and interpreting, always refreshing the initial mental image.

As for character depth dropping off, maybe that was the wrong term. I meant more that the later characters simply didn't 'get' me. They didn't get me to care. They just kind of...did things. I didn't really feel any sense of attachment to them, didn't really care whether they lived or died. At the beginning, Jake, oh Jake, he really got me going. I found myself tagging on his every step, always wanting to know 'what next, what next?' always hoping he was going to be okay - and then he wasn't. Instead, they killed him. I suddenly had a sense of dread, a sense of uncertainty, so when I started reading Ici and her myriad of feelings, this stayed with me. When she met Dana, I found myself in the very same situation, hoping she'd be okay, because I had the sense that there was a very real possibility she might not me. I cared for her, I cared for her fate. With the others...sorry, no. They just weren't 'there' enough to make me. Not emotionally, at least.

Now, I get by now that the story's mostly about Ici, but the others have to have some feelings too. If they laugh, they cry, they love, they fear, such is what makes readers care about a character, even if he or she is just a glorified extra used as a plot device (taking about general writing now, not this story in particular). If a character is present with a passion, then merged with that sense of uncertainty, that aura of dread, the reader will get into an 'is he going to be okay?' frame of mind, and the story will be further amplified.

That's about all I got for now. Hope it's what you wanted.

"Bu-" Griffin started, looking in multiple directions in a confused manner as the mercs just about pushed him toward the door, speaking curtly and without much cohesion, "Wai-...shouldn't we-? Um...okay..."

He wasn't really sure about this, but these two (or at least one of them) had gotten him out of that creepy hospital, having apparently had a good idea of the consequences - and though Griffin couldn't say he exactly agreed with them, sticking with the two was probably a better idea than the soldier chick and the biker gang, whom he knew even less about...

--------------------

Valsta raised a hand before his eyes as another building exploded, giving a curt, despondent sigh. One of these days, he really had to get it across to Archlich that not everything should be written off as collateral damage, even when (as now), everyone stood in the middle of a firefight. Right now, it was kind of moot, the immediate area already evacu-
[ QUOTE ]
"I need a med-vac now!"

[/ QUOTE ]
...ated?

Teivos' gaze snapped back into the horizontal. That shout hadn't come solely across the network. Where was...?

A. Teivos: Wolfgang!
Wolf3r: Got it.
Wolf3r: On it.
Wolf3r: Over there.

The cyborg's network trace had found the source exponentially faster than looking for the sound, and Vlasta didn't waste a moment before giving the order to get moving with a shout to the like. As far as he was concerned right now, the second tank could handle the green dragon over there.

He didn't care about further maintaining the secondary trap either, ordering the tank above them to decloak so those below could grab on and a faster transit to the crater Wolfgang pointed out was achieved. All in all, it didn't take but a few seconds for them to home in on Burning Brawler's group, the M7A7 and supporting infantry giving no relent in their near-constant covering fire in all directions, sticking close as the black-clad dictator dropped into the hole.

"What are you guys doing here?!" was the first thing out of Vlasta's mouth upon seeing the VB officers, needing to shout over the fighting to be vocally understood, "Why aren't you on a Molvia?!"

That he didn't really care, however, was plainly visible to even the most inept observer, the bulk of Teivos' attention consumed by the downed man his rushed course headed down toward, hoping to find a wrist with a pulse. At the same time, Wolfgang already launched a scan of the same Burning Brawler.

What had happened...?

Not bad. Could use a bit more imagery, and it'd probably flow better if there weren't so many short, separate sentences, but all in all not bad. I also noticed that character depth seems to have dropped from the respectably high level you had at the beginning, so I don't really feel drawn to the ones introduced later on. That might just be me, though. Still, an enjoyable read.

"Not unless I suddenly forgot how to put a revolute joint back together." Sarah smiled much-sayingly, "If I know one thing, it's machines. Besides, your design isn't that different form a 2nd-generation Stolis-double-E. Little less efficient, but this Nemesis guy does decent work."

Tapping the mechanoid upon its head at the dent from a certain baseball bat, she added to that, "My guess is you can thank your close encounter of the wooden kind. What was the point in provoking that anyway? You seem smarter than that."

"Yeah." Kia agreed, now lying with her arms crossed under her jaw on the sofa's armrest, "You sure don't sound like you're just following programming..."

"So there's multiple people calling themselves Nemesis then?" Johnny wanted to know, having taken a seat on the nearest edge of a sofa's backrest for now, "That's kind of messed up...by the way, do you guys get paid for bringing these guys in, like bounty hunters, or cops? Or do you do something else for a living...?"

((Yes and no. Yes as in Sarah's fixing the mechanoid, no as in we can continue conversation while she does.))

That's awesome.

No worries, heh. But yeah, I think I understand why you threw those out.

If you'd like feedback, I gotta say I like the style. He's a bit more muscular than he's supposed to be, and his feet are more like the 'monstrous claws' in the game than what you put there (...and I can't quite figure around his head there...looks kind of like an eagle; I keep seeing feathers, but that might jsy be me ), but all in all very nice. I would prefer him in his robe yes, and if you'd like a suggestion for enemy group: Crey recently bugged him a lot by kidnapping his friends, so they're about to meet the business end of a shotgun. So if you like...

((Hm, guess Khell's waiting for me then, not the other way around, okay. And yup. Want to know why? Investigate. ))

Sun Tzu's skyward lunge was actually quite unnecessary, Teivos having all intent to return and mop up what Archlich might've missed. In the meantime though, the situation on the ground gradually peeled itself from the smoke and dust.

One M7A7 hung in a building, its front chassis hanging through the wall like a nail gone wrong, most of its armor a torn, mangled mess of half-molten slag. MPDAS armor may have been able to deal with plasma relatively well, but the vehicle had indeed been too close to a blast, and suffered an analogous fate to Sun Tzu's spirit armor. Unlike he, however, those inside lay injured and out cold. Seatbelts and armor might've saved their lives, but they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

A large, western-looking dragon hued somewhere in-between sea and shamrock green felt a lot like just doing the same, the creature easily the size of an Arachnos Flyer groggily emerging from the rubble within a sizeable crater, wings dragging on the ground beside.

Owwww...my back...

These were the thoughts of Ryuu Hotaka, bruised and battered despite the myriad of protections he'd woven into his human guise - not to mention a rather decent grasp of electromagnetism. Sadly, Archlich's beam had just proven too powerful for him to abuse the principles of questionable physics to their fullest extent.

Freaking Jesus Beam...where'd that little jerk get to?

Unfortunately, Hotaka didn't get the chance to join Yinglong in her revenge, for a raucously drawn-out crack of thunder gave him all of two instants' warning of the energy wedge that rammed him right back into the crater he'd come from. The second M7A7 apparently felt fantastic, and was thus still alive. Moreover, it had picked Hotaka as its target. Wasn't that just dandy as could be? Well, fine. It wanted dragon? It'd get dragon!

Hotaka launched himself from the crater like a coiled spring and with a vicious roar, trying to surprise the hovertank with speed and agility, then simply take a bite out of it. The tank in turn replied with another shot, but the dragon was too quick, and snapped his gaping jaws closed over...

...thin air? What the-?!

Another blast took Hotaka to the ground again, the tank having zipped up and over, out of the reach of his jaws. The dragon let out a perturbed groan. Since when were hovertanks actually fast and agile? A tank was supposed to be slow, casual, and pack a wallop. Substituting slow and casual with swift and speedy...well, that just wasn't very fair at all. What kind of cheating...wait a minute - that last blast had hurt a lot more than the one before! What was going on here?!

Mimicking a springboard, Hotaka sought cover behind a nearby building for a moment, the tank's next blast going wide and giving the dragon a bit if time to puzzle this out. Was this thing's cannon adapting to him? Yes, yes it was. It had to be. It clearly wasn't a sonic weapon. No, the tank was analyzing the effects of its weapon and adjusting to make it more effective. Doubleyou-tee-eff?! What kind of garbage was this?!

Okay, fine. You guys want to play? Let's play.

As the tank moved back in, Hotaka gave a flick of his right forepaw, and a cloud of sickly-green gas rose from the ground, forming some manner of oblong shape before the dragon addressed it with the order, "Chlorine elemental - take the tank crew."

"Creeewww..." the cloud rumbled and moved toward the tank, seeking to seep into its interior or ventilation system and do in, or at least incapacitate the crew inside.

Right. Fat chance. The vehicle didn't even have to shoot. A few centimeters off the hull, the elemental simply began to lose cohesion. Shocked, Hotaka wasn't even able to countermand his order before the summoned entity had completely evaporated.

Wait, this junk goes for all summoned entities? Oh come on, this is ridiculous!

Great. So now what? Somehow, he doubted summoning up some ninja would be of any great use here. Whatever that tank had going, Hotaka had no reason to believe it wouldn't work against animated shadows. No, here he'd have to go in personally, hard and fast, otherwise the little weasel would just evade and shoot him again. Well okay, chances were it would shoot him regardless, but if he timed it just right, maybe he could make it worth that by catching the thing.

Of course, as Murphy would demand his pleasure, this was right about the time Teivos and his entourage returned, and with Hotaka currently being the only thing in range, naturally took a bead on him. Yeah, he wasn't having that. Ninjas may or may not have been able to get to the damn tank, but he was fairly sure they could brawl around with the infantry. Luckily, he was right. Sort of. Their katanas didn't seem to be quite as effective as usual, but at least they kept people busy while Hotaka zigzagged toward 'his' M7A7.

In the process, however, he couldn't help but wonder where the third tank had gone. He knew there had been a third one - and logically, it should've been covering the Sovereign. But out of the corner of his eye, the dragon couldn't see anything above Teivos.

Don't tell me these things can cloak too.

One way or another, he could neither confirm nor deny the presence of a hovertank near the dictator at this time, mostly because he was junta little too busy with the other one to 'look' at the one that did indeed hover there with anything that could pierce its thermo-optic camouflage.

Nooot to mention that thing he'd worried about from the beginning - the reason the Sovereign's clearly outnumbered troops hadn't cheesed it.

From down the road approached another tank division - ULA FBTs, so not too threatening, but it did mean reinforcements had arrived...

--------------------

In the sky, things went a bit more calmly, at least at first. Vlasta couldn't help but smirk when the Comanches now escorting the Molvias informed the flight of approaching bandits. For only a moment, Teivos was tempted to just forget going back down and instead telling the third M7A7 to come up and have at it. But only for a moment. Then he opted differently.

A. Teivos: How about them rocket pods?

The Comanches' gunners delighted, set their choppers' Hydra 70's to proximity airburst and let loose, a veritable wall of firepower coming at the CPSR forces upon their ascent, and in a staccato to boot.

However, that wasn't the worst of it. Up here in the sky, reinforcements tended to arrive much more quickly than on the ground, and this stood by no means false in this situation. Hotaka's worry here came not in the form of tanks though, but rather a flight of F-22s, the aptly named Raptors hungry for prey.

Streaking in at supersonic velocities, they added liberally AMRAAMs to the mix while Teivos gave command to head back down.

"I want the prisoners secured as soon as possible." he told Toy with a respectful nod, but a wary finger, "No roundabouts this time. We can't underestimate them."

"Wolf, let's go." he motioned to Wolfgang, then to the pilot, and a moment later they were gone again, leaving Toy with the Molvias to head to the VB detention center to pick up Isabel - and of course to drop off the VB officers aboard the transport helicopters, just about all of whom needed medical care of one form or another. Vlasta only took his teams back down to the road. The ground reinforcements would be here shortly anyway.

Arriving on said ground, however, he was of course quite surprised at yet another dragon having appeared, taking a short look into the sky to assure himself that this really was another and the black one hadn't pulled some manner of chameleon.

Wolf3r: No, that's a second one all right.
A. Teivos: I can see that.
Wolf3r: Kind of puny against that other one, isn't he?
A. Teivos: Who cares? Get him!

Needless to say, the sudden arrival of a black-clad Jounin squad surprised him even more. Thankfully, they didn't seem so tough, the Sovereign's own plasma pistol vaporizing the closest to him with just one shot. Sort of. The short-lived black cloud indicative of an arcanely manipulated shadow told the tale. Regrettably, Vlasta wasn't one to properly interpret it. He thought these were just some new variation of ancestor spirit.

Burning Brawler and those with him may have been able to corrently inform him. But were they even around here somewhere...?

--------------------

World of Thread

Griffin shakily peeked over the counter he'd jumped behind when the clothing store's windowfront had blown in from some huge pressure wake outside. He didn't know it of course, but that had been Archlich's strike, and it had wreaked havoc even at this distance, bowling over racks and sending clothes and people alike flying.

Then the ground shook yet again, though this time with much less ferocity and greater duration. Still, the shaking did reach a good, steady vibe for a little while there, as a quad-treaded behemoth of a tank rumbled by outside. Well, most of one, anyway. And it was on fire. Not a very pleasing picture.

Nevertheless, Griffin made his way back into the wrecked store proper, looking for the others, who may or may not have been buried under something.

"Hello?" he called out, "Is...is anyone hurt...?"

Just want to confirm, are the times here all EST, or a different time zone?

What can I say? Excellent writing style, imagery is vivid and colorful, I feel drawn to the characters, they are portrayed true to vision, grammar is good, word choice is alive and varied, format makes for easy, effortless reading...I really can't find any fault with this. Sure, I have precedent, and someone who doesn't play this game would probably be lost here and there, but all in all it's just a very neat story that I'm very much enjoying the reading of.

I certainly wouldn't mind, especially if you'd like feedback as you create.

"Accepted." Arek gave a nod to the Warmaster, placing the binoculars back where they'd come from. Truth be told, with the lack of life signs inside the building, he doubted the Rikti would detect any minds (the two generally went hand-in-hand, after all), but he wasn't about to dismiss the possibility of a sentient mechanoid that didn't carry a profile divergent from the warehouse being in there.

In fact, since apparently nothing at all had shown up to his surveillance, the draconian most suspected either a truly abandoned place or one guarded by nothing but mechanical traps. Either way, it seemed there wasn't any way to discover which from across the street.

With a flap of his wings, the Sky Commander leaped from the building and let himself glide across the street to the warehouse's roof access hatch, keeping an energy sensor on his harness active just in case. If any differential occurred upon his claws setting down onto that roof, there was little chance he wouldn't know right away...

--------------------

Drago proceeded back out, still unsure if he shouldn't have just teleported people here. This little roundabout excursion had taken a lot longer than the indicated five minutes. Unfortunately, that had likely been due to him having misinterpreted Millions' time scheme.

In any case, he didn't feel it necessary to draw things out any longer, requesting of the woman, "We appreciate your offer, but time is money. I'd be most grateful if we could get on our way as quickly as possible..."

((You need to run the Numina TF then. ))

"Well, we're going to find out." the Tornado stated confidently, but then gave a curious glance to her hands by the mechanoid's neck when her torch suddenly ceased. Raising the instrument to her eyes, she remarked with a huff, "Hmph. Power cell's out. What's the code for the local station here?"

"Sarah, we keep telling you," Kia almost rolled her eyes with a smile, sliding over the armrest of 'her' sofa, "humans have a different power system. That applies to here too."

"Oh." the Tornado's expression became sheepish, her long ears drooping a bit, "Right. Why do I keep forgetting that?"

Of course, the situation wasn't in any way serious. Even if no one had any suggestions on charging the torch back up, Sarah had gotten the welds complete enough for nominal operation. She's just wanted to touch up on the last few bits...

((Hey Cham, if Eileen thinks that's vicious; SPOILER WARNING: Nemesis Warhulks have enslaved people inside them, some of them former heroes. ))

((Also got some pics. Thanks to Don for Sarah Jovi, Kia Gray, and Johnny Greenwood. ))

No worries. Actually, if you'd like to keep putting up the uncolored works while you're still drawing, that'd be pretty cool. We all love watching WIPs.

I'm taken. More please.

"I don't know..." Sarah shifted about uncertainly, not really sure how to proceed here, but when Kia reached for her shoulder to inform her that these people probably knew what they were talking about, she straightened up with a firm, "No."

"I'm sorry," the Tornado told them while retrieving the head from the yard, inspecting the neck joint on her way back, "please don't take it as me not believing you, but something like this just goes against my principles. This ma...machine seemed at least partially intelligent, which means I can't just leave it alone. Okay, this looks like...Kia, get me the forty-two please."

Moving to the large blue bag while her friend set first the head, then body of the mechanoid onto the floor before the coffee table, the mountain dragon retrieved from one of its larger side pockets a compact, high-volume tool belt, looking uncertainly over the set of slots hat held wrenches of various sizes with a distinct, "Uhhh..."

The Tornado couldn't help but smile at this, already sitting on the floor beside the robot's pieces, and looked to the little dragon still on the table with the request, "Johnny, help her out, would you?"

"Right." the thief gave a smirk and winged himself over onto the belt, trying to point otu to Kia which wrench Sarah had meant - though his snickers only got her to bring the whole thing over instead.

"How am I supposed to know that?" she huffed at Johnny while hading the belt to the Tornado, "To me, a wrench is a wrench, that's it."

Sarah chuckled, but didn't pay the mock-argument any more mind after that, setting to work on putting the machine back together. The technology really was a fascinating ensemble, but not something she couldn't cope with. She even kept an eye out for just such things as transmitters, making sure to disable any she could find to account for Akemi's concerns.

The final stroke she executed with a compact spark-torch of some sort, barely the size of a soldering gun, yet clearly capable of welding even high-strength alloys. It didn't produce much of a flash either, quite safe to the naked eye...

((Me too. Though...I was kinda hoping Toy would take Isabel and Zeo to the factory there. Now they've got one foot in limbo. Did I miss something? If it's the Molvias still being around, I don't think they would've held position inside the danger zone, you know.))

((M'kay - Dogma, looks like you've got the ball then. Where do we end up? ))

((Can do.))

"The silent type, mmh?" Wolfgang remarked to the frozen-stiff Flashpoint Zeo with a wry smirk in his tone, poking the edge of the ice block he'd found the hulking man in with the muzzle of his gun, the half-head he'd 'picked up' from Kruger in his other hand, "Or are you just giving me the cold shoulder? Okay, excuse me, that was bad."

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" he considered, arms crossed, the three clawed toes of a plantigrade metal foot tapping the ground in tandem with its sole, "I should just shoot you, but you're probably going to get executed anyway, and Vlasta will probably want to get info from you first."

On the other hand, the Reichsman's cronies never were much for talking. Maybe I really should just shoot him now. Hmhf...decisions, decisions...

--------------------

"I'm going to take that advice." Teivos gave a nod, commanding the Molvias above to warp out whatever friendlies they could, focusing on personnel, which the heavy transport helicopters quickly started preparations for, teleport rigs locking in on their intended targets.

Meanwhile, something did indeed interfere with Sun Tzu's ghostly armor reaching for the hovertank - namely, said hovertank. As the unwieldy, armored hands came closer and closer, they suddenly began to crick and crack, somehow losing cohesion, and once they got within a few centimeters of the tank's chassis, they actually began to fall apart!

And if that unexpected consequence wasn't enough to shock Sun Tzu, then what followed most certainly would. Not only did the Sovereign and most of his forces (the ones that were still alive, at least) suddenly up and vanish into thin air, recalled to the pair of Molvias high in the sky, but the tank itself apparently had another trick up its figurative sleeve.

Namely a completed analysis of its target.

Thus as it bounced into the air to avoid what may have been a dragon's tail going for it now instead of the departed personnel that had been below it, the M7A7 thundered another blast into Sun Tzu's spirit armor, adjusted to be a great deal more penetrating this time. Chances were it wouldn't make it all the way through the chest plate, but it would certainly give this attacker pause.

Moreover, without infantry to cover now, the other two could move much faster, the M7A7 Zeo had thrown fireballs at earlier hopping a shorter building and opening fire at the spirit armor's left leg while it flew toward the street. The third regrettably had a taller structure between it and the road, so it couldn't engage just yet, but doubtlessly would once it came either over or around.

If there was anything left after Archlich's strike, that was...

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"Oh." Wolfgang remarked casually once he noted his surroundings had changed to a Molvia's cargo bay, the rather spacious compartment able to accommodate the evacuees with tight, but decent spacing. He shrugged to Zeo upon Teivos' approach, "Guess that takes the decision out of my hands."

"What decision?" Vlasta wanted to know, but a moment later changed his mind, holding up a hand has he turned to the mechanoid he'd arrived with, "On second thought, I think I already know. Armádny Generál; good work. Not how I would've preferred, but I can't argue with your results."

Teivos had spoken the last with a satisfied, respectful smile, and motioned to the captive Zeo again, "Please take this...person to Štátna Zbrojovka immediately. Detention block in the administration tower. I'd like to have a word with him after we're done here. Maybe we can still find a head or two."

"Oh, allow me." Wolfgang stepped closer, proudly presenting what remained of Kruger in his metal palm, as if to say 'hah, thought you'd one-up me, didn't you?' to Toy Dispenser (though in a comradely rivalry, not an actual dislike), "I can't be sure - there's not much left of the face - but I think this is that Krieger, Kruger. A few points still match with his profile."

"Gooood." Vlasta drew out with a smirk like that of Emperor Palpatine himself, giving a satisfied nod while he indicated the cyborg should give the head to the android, "Looks like we have some progress after all. Oh, and Toy; there's word on the VB network that one of the other rebel supers just arrived at their local detention facility. Please take her as well. Separate cells, of course."

With a whisper so Zeo couldn't hear (if he could hear anything in that block, that was; Vlasta just didn't want to chance it), "Make sure they're close enough to talk, though. And record their conversations. I'd like to know what's on their minds..."

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Back on the ground (upon the general disappearance), the APTH-1's crew certainly knew to get the hell outta Dodge, the massive tank setting course in a straight line away, and not just because it had a dragon hammering away at it, the already red-lit interior filling with biting smoke and the raucous beeps of at least a dozen critical alerts.

Still, it could move, and that's what counted, for whether it was a jagged-looking, burning half-wreck lumbering down that road or not, it was still damn slow - at least compared to the hovertanks, which could just zip around like that. But even by road standards, the behemoth that was the APTH-1 wasn't in any way speedy. Heavy and gradual, the legacy of the turtle was that of this tank.

Hotaka watched this with keen interest, not entirely sure what to think of such a machine, as it certainly didn't seem to have offense to match. In any case, that wasn't something to worry about right now, nor were the flying ones. No, that dubious honor belonged to the lich in the sky, his aura oddly familiar, and yet so very estranged at the same time. Regardless, Hotaka's concerns were mainly for what the guy was doing right now.

Okay, that's really not good. That one's going for a Jesus Beam. Gotta stop him. How? Attack? No, too slow. Throw something? No, still too slow. No shadows to get ninjas from up there...c'mon, think of something. Spell. What spell? Some spell. Range spell. Hold spell. Tesla Cage. Don't have that. Lighting bolt?

Yes, he had a lightning bolt - or more precisely, knew where to get one.

Thus Hotaka thrust his hands skyward with outstretched fingers, mimicking Sun Tzu and hoping that Archlich's zone of tranquility wouldn't be enough to stop the supersonic streak of electricity from ramming him right out of the sky...

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Kings Row District

Whether someone managed it or not wasn't apparent from the outside of the warehouse, though the situation of people inside didn't really matter so much as the alarm systems these warehouses stood fitted with - systems that chances were Egregore's own sensors wearable to spot easily, such as motion detectors synched to the doors.

They weren't easy to disable either (certainly beyond the ability of the locals who may have desired such a warehouse as a clandestine base of operations), but depending how Egregore's skills compared with the architects of these alarms, the possible outcomes of tempering with one very well ranged from getting Verejna Bezpechnost in his neck straight away to making it in completely undetected...

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((Gonna wait with Griffin a bit, see what Crimson and Soviet do. Also Dogma, I don't have any plans for warehouses, so as long as it's not over-the-top, feel free to do what you want. ))