<::||GEAR.203 Private Logs||::>

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lcpd0lhYMQI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lcpd0lhYMQI</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 10: Heavy Price to Pay

Present-day october 2017, a few hours into the Citadel being breached

Location: ION floor

The remaining units manning the barricade stood quietly facing the elevator, as the light ding rang out from different directions. The light banging in the vents began to come close, growing ever louder as the units awaited a desperate charge. However grim it seemed, they weren’t going to allow passage to the core without fighting for it first. The elevator continued to ring as it got higher, just now passing floor HUNTER. Two-oh-three shifted uneasily, sweat running down his the back of his neck as he thought back as far as he could remember. Remembering City Eight, and a woman he remembered faintly as Alice. He could feel stress and turmoil associated with her when he thought back, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. They were transferred back to City eighteen after a majority of City Eight had been abandoned. He couldn’t remember what happened there, other then saving up loyalist points, which brought him to City eleven, where he was recruited for the Combine Civil Authority. The training was long and brutal, and the lectures were hard to bear, but misery loves company. There was another recruit he had grown friends with, Five-seventy was his Unit ID. He thought back to the other units he’s met over the year, codes of numbers tumbling through his mind. He lightly shook his head as the elevator passed floor JUDGE. He unloaded his MP7 and slide in a fresh magazine, he pulled the bolt back as he loaded it, the bolt clicking satisfyingly as the bullet ejected itself from the chamber, being quickly replaced by a fresh one as it tumbled to the ground. He held his MP7 at his hip as each and every last unit did the same, they’re uniforms snapping perfectly in unison. The bangs in the vent began to ring in his ears, like the large bells that hung at the top of a church. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! The elevator finally rang out, the room deathly silent as the sign above read ION.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rskWrDDFTg" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rskWrDDFTg</a>

The doors to the elevator slide open with a satisfying bang, resistance beginning to pour out as the vents above and to the sides of the elevator broke open, resistance emerging from each like Antlions from a hole. The units manning the barricades opened fire with a barrage of gunfire, beginning to shred the resistance as they approached, until they began firing back. Units began falling in a heap on the ground as rounds shred through their vests or blew a hole through their helmets. Two-oh-three peered to his right and saw Four-seventeen firing a pistol one handed, the other hand behind him holding a spare radio. Two-oh-three began backing away slightly, just enough to get a them off him for a moment. He sprayed his MP7 in wide arcs, spraying it as if it were a flamethrower, when his MP7 refused to fire. He ducked behind a barricade as other units continued to fight back the growing army flooding the corridor. He ejected the magazine from his MP7, and slide a new one in, pushing the bolt back as he stood back up again, firing from the hip in bursts. The resistance kept pouring on the pressure as they began to make it to the first barricade, the ones attempting to climb over dispatched quicker then the ones not trying to. Amongst all the carnage, Two-oh-three could faintly hear One-oh-one’s voice through the radio system. “<:: Thi- *Static* -Ne-oh-on- *Static* -ore breached! *Static* Require assista- *Static* -Immediately!” After that the radio went static and he couldn’t hear anything other then ghosts and echos. He turned towards Four-seventeen, who was looking at him at the exact same moment, he waved his hand back behind him. “<:: Go!” He yelled, turning back quickly to combat the horde of resistance. Two-oh-three whipped around, racing through the packed corridor of units, before rounding the corner towards the control room. He saw an Oh-four pass him with a USP match in his hand, he heard a metallic banging behind him, followed by a gunshot. He kept sprinting, hopping the unit had the situation handled. As he sprinted through the control room, he slammed his fist against the terminal, shutting the bulkhead behind him. He rounded the corner, ignoring the terminals as he boarded the lift to the core. He pushed the up button with his forefinger, and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his MP7 as the lift began to steadily rise. As the lift grew closer to its destination, he could see the glass above, and could see the gunfire being exchanged. As he reached the top, the window exploded with blood, a shot pinging the wall behind him as a resistance member slumped against the window. He lumbered forward, raising his MP7 as he whipped around to his left, when two armed men in vests fired in bursts towards him. He ducked back into cover, the bullets peppering the wall to his side. He leaned out of cover, aiming down the laser sight as he returned fire, firing a burst into the chest on his right. The mans face contorted in pain as he brought his hand to his bleeding chest, he crumpled to the ground, a small pool of blood forming as he stirred. Not dead, but out of commission. He thought positively. He took a deep inhale as he rounded the corner, strafing right as he fired in continual bursts towards the last one. He stumbled backwards as one round grazed his arm, doubling over as another penetrated his stomach, and reared back as one hit him square on the top of the head, he fell on his back, blood pouring steadily out of his stomach and head. He rushed forward, kicking the MP7 out of reach from the last one and quickly firing a burst into his back. He frantically searched the area, the area littered with bodies of resistance and civil protection alike. He made his way outside, and slowed to a stop in horror as he watched the rebel from before, the one who escaped the elevator, sink a large knife into One-oh-one’s stomach. She was doubled over as he held her by the throat, smiling manically as she slowly drained away. Two-oh-three took a few steps forward, before raising his MP7. “<:: Hold it right there!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. The rebel turned, his smile growing broader as he noticed him. He began to adjust his aim, when he jerked the knife in One-oh-one’s stomach, causing her to yell out in pain. “Nu-uh-ah..” He cooed, his smile still present. “You’re friend lives.. when we fight by my rules.” He said darkly. Two-oh-three lowered his MP7, before tossing it to the ground, he made his right hand into a fist, engaging the counter-measures in his datapad. He nodded in approval, delicately sliding the large knife out of her stomach, before dropping her down on the ground, the knife dripping with blood. He grinned as he licked the loose blood droplets off the blade, his long black hair hiding one of his eyes. He struck a combat stance, showing he must be experienced in close-quarters combat. Two-oh-three stood with his counter-measure arm to his side, his side facing him. The sun was setting just over the horizon, casting the area around them a light orange as the sun reflected off the glass. The sun also was causing a perfect cast of the two silhouettes as they prepared for their standoff.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KtnMSGxHRY" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KtnMSGxHRY</a>

The sun cast a shadow on the roof of the Citadel as the two men faced each other, half of the roof shaded as each man stood at either side. Two-oh-three took a step forward, being hesitant as a cut from the knife and he was done for. The rebel must of knew that fact himself, knowing the same case with Two-oh-three’s counter-measures, but still kept his confident smile. The man leaned forward slightly before charging forward, knife trailing behind him as Two-oh-three began to sprint forward, his right hand held high as if in an attempt to strike him. They both met at the spot where the shadow and the light met. The man brought his knife down on him, Two-oh-three bringing his wrist up to protect his face. The large knife struck his counter-measures, sparks flying as the two metallic objects scraped against each other. The man kept pressure with his knife, pushing down on Two-oh-three as he attempted to keep on his feet. After a moment, Two-oh-three clenched his free hand into a fist, delivering an upper cut into his ribs. The man doubled over, releasing the pressure on him. He straightened up, charging forward with his fist held high when the man brought his knife up, batting his counter-measures away like any sword fighter would. Two-oh-three kept the pressure on, slicing and dicing as he tried to find a weak spot as the man continued to block his attacks almost effortlessly. He finally decided enough was enough, he lashed out, striking Two-oh-three in the knee. Two-oh-three stumbled to a knee, yelling out as the pain exploded through his body. He swung the knife in an arch towards his neck, Two-oh-three brought his wrist back up, putting his free hand on it to support it as the knife struck against his counter-measures. He reared back slightly as the knife connected, slightly off balance as the man delivered a jarring kick to his helmet, throwing him to the floor. He felt his vision blur, his ears ringing as he felt his foot on his chest. His blurry eyes subsided, and in front of his eyes a large blade hovered inches from his throat. “Looks like you lost.” The man sneered. Two-oh-three only stifled a small chuckle, replying with a slight southern accent. “<:: Nope.” He brought his hand back, putting some power into it as he thrust it forward, into the leg pinning his chest down. Blood leaked out of the cracks between the hole in his leg and his counter-measures as the man howled with pain, immediately releasing pressure on his chest. Two-oh-three lashed forward with his foot, kicking him off him, causing him to stumble and fall on his back. Two-oh-three quickly leapt to his feet, he crouched down slightly, not even giving the man any last words as he raised his fist in the air, his counter-measures aimed down towards his chest. His hand and datapad blocked the sun momentarily as he brought it down, the counter-measures piercing the base of his neck, blood squirting out like an impaled orange as blood began to sodden his counter-measures, sprinkling the top of his gloves with blood. “<:: You lose...” He said quietly, with a soft humor as he twisted the counter-measures ninety degrees, squirting small droplets of blood onto his mask and vest. He stood up as the man gargled and choked, blood dripping from his mouth as he snarled at him like an animal. He delivered a blunt kick to the side of his head, his eyes shutting close as he looked around in a daze. “<:: Ah.. shut up.” The man continued to choke on his blood as it stained his black hair red, his eyes beginning to slowly roll up his head as his breathing quickened. With a final shudder, the man’s head lightly tapped against the ground, making a light metallic bang as he went motionless, the only movement being his blood making a steady pool around him. “<:: Hmph.” Two-oh-three huffed, he relaxed his fist, the bloody counter-measures sliding back inside with a light metallic click as he turned to the prone One-oh-one, quickly jogging towards her.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQQ4ME22Lx8" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQQ4ME22Lx8</a>

Two-oh-three hastily crouched to One-oh-one’s side as she turned to acknowledge him, blood bleeding profusely from her stomach. “<:: One-oh-one...” Two-oh-three said quietly, trying to hide the tears starting to form in his eyes. She coughed lightly, taking a troubled breath as she spoke. “Two-oh-three..” She said quietly, an edge in her voice. Two-oh-three began to breath heavily in worry, feeling as if there’s something he could do. He hunched over her, looking down the hole, noticing it went all the way through and grazed her spine. He swallowed, having trouble from the large lump beginning to form. “Tw.. I.. I’ll be fine...” She said, her voice going gravely quiet, quivering lightly as a light sniffle was heard behind her mask. “<:: Y-you.. you called FLATLINE while.. while I was fighting..?” He said, starting to feel tears roll down his cheeks as his voice shook. One-oh-one shook her head gravely, her hands shaking lightly as she sniffed louder, a choked cry coming from her throat. Two-oh-three crawled forward slightly, his voice barely a whisper as he began to cry. “<:: One-oh-one.. One-oh-one you can’t.. you can’t go!” He yelled, already crying as his voice shook. One-oh-one merely shook her head slowly as she laid back down on the ground, choked crying coming from her mask. Two-oh-three inched forward, he slide his right hand under her neck, using his other hand to support her head as he lifted her head and neck up to look at him. “Two-oh-three.. I..” She made a horrific gasp, leaning forward lightly as she had a short coughing fit, before relaxing in his grip. “<::..I...” She let out only a choked sob, her hands going limp as her head tilted back in his hands. Two-oh-three shook, choked sobs coming from his throat as he tried to pull himself together, but to no avail. “<:: No...” He murmured. He began to sob, pulling her lifeless body into his chest, holding her head against his chest. “<:: Please...” He sobbed. “<:: Don’t go...” Her lifeless body refused to respond as he held her in his arms, his shoulders rising and falling softly. He continued to cry, the top of his helmet lightly touching the top of hers as a pool of blood accumulated around her. He held her in his arms for a few minutes, eventually falling silent with the occasional sniffle or sob. He took his right hand off the back of her helmet, sliding it under her knees as he, with difficulty, lifted her up in his arms, holding her lifeless body in a bridal carry. He numbly walked towards the Cryogenic pods that were located on the same floor, the only sounds on the top of the Citadel was the lonely blowing of the wind and the soft march of his footsteps. He opened the door to the Cryogenic bay, walking down the long white hallway down with rows upon rows of pods, each one holding a body. Each pod a unit ID on each, Two-oh-three looked down both sides at the many numbers digitally inscribed on each. He stopped at the end, where an open pod lay open. He set One-oh-one’s corpse inside, crossing her arms over her chest as he got onto the end, and pushed the pod into the wall, sealing the corpse inside. The digital reading inscribed her Unit ID: “101“ next to her pod. Two-oh-three slide his mask off, his eyes red with tears, sniffing back tears as he stood in silence by the pod, wondering if he should stay with it. He lightly licked his lips, stifling a soft sniffle as he hooked his mask back on, clipping back to the other half of his helmet. He snapped a crisp salute to the pod, waiting a few seconds before returning to at ease.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCk4RiKH9H0" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCk4RiKH9H0</a>

As Two-oh-three somberly walked down the end of the hall, he felt his heart begin to race. His left fist clenching as his pace quickened, his jaw clenching as his sadness and sorrow was filled with rage and the thirst for revenge. He slammed on the button to the Cryogenic chambers, briskly walking back onto the roof of the Citadel as he approached the slain man from before, a large pool of blood surrounding him. Two-oh-three bent down, grabbing the side of the body as he heaved it above his head, the legs and arms dangling as he steadily approached the core. He stood at the edge, the core a bottomless chasm of electric energy and plasma. He let out a fierce cry, leaning forward and tossing the body into the chasm. The body’s limbs trailed after it as it hit the center post, electricity and combine energy pulsing through his body as he continued to plummet down the chasm. He began to bang against the walls of the core, his body turning charred black as it began to disintegrate. The body began to fade away as it began to disappear into the blue-green energy of the core, each and every strand of DNA, skin, blood, and hair fading away as it disappeared forever, no evidence of the corpse ever existing. Two-oh-three stood staring down the chasm as his optics reflected the blue-green energy from the core, burning with everlasting light. He turning on his heel, briskly walking towards the lift as he unslung his MP7 from his back, satisfyingly slapping it into his hand. He pressed the button for floor ION as he stepped on the lift, the lift steadily descending back down. 

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPVO4ICbWIA" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPVO4ICbWIA</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 11: Opening the Floodgate’s

Present-day October, 2017.

Location: ION floor

The lift let out a soft hiss as it arrived back on ION, Two-oh-three silently stepping off, surveying his surroundings. The hall was filled with units, most covered in blood. He delicately tread through the hallway soaked in blood, his boots only lightly clicking with each step. He made his way over to Four-seventeen, he had a blood soaked Tourniquet wrapped around his chest. Two-oh-three nodded lightly “<:: How is everyone?”
“<:: Most of us are alive, but we have a few... permanent casualties.”
“<:: Will they be amputated?”
“<:: We don’t know yet, we’re still sifting through who’s still useful and whos not.”
Two-oh-three only stifled a stiff nod, fearing for the worse. Four-seventeen tilted his head, looking behind him. “<:: One-oh-one upstairs?” Two-oh-three swallowed a lump in his throat as he spoke. “<:: Yeah... permanently.” Four-seventeen’s head tilted back slightly, almost as if in shock. “<:: Geez.. sorry to hear about it, 'Three.” Two-oh-three merely shook his head somberly, looking about as units struggled to get to their feet. “<:: So, whats the plan?”
“<:: The Commander wants us holding here.”
“<:: We can’t take another wave, and the Commander should know that!” Four-seventeen merely shrugged, crossing his arms and gesturing behind Two-oh-three. “<:: Got a problem with it, talk to the commander.” Two-oh-three looked over his shoulder, watching the Commander as he loaded pulse rounds into an OSIPR. “<:: I’ll do one better..” He turned himself around, walking up with disguised confidence towards the Commander, Three-four-three-oh-seven, he stopped just a foot in front of him, even sitting down the Commander was still eye level with him. He looked up from his OSIPR, his orange optics eyeing Two-oh-three before he spoke, his voice gravely like before. “<:: Ah, the former Officer approaches..” The commander said in a mocking tone, before looking back down at his OSIPR. “<:: What do you want?”
“<:: I want a plan.”
“<:: We stay here and hold off, plain and simple.”
“<:: It isn’t going to work.” The commander lifted his gaze, almost as if disbelief. He set his OSIPR to the side, he stood up, towering over Two-oh-three as he spoke in a hard tone. “<:: Oh it won’t..?” Two-oh-three nodded, drumming his fingers nervously along his thigh, doing his best to keep his voice straight. “<:: Another wave and we’ll be done for, sir.” The Commander merely chuckled darkly. “<:: Ask the units what they want, then...” Two-oh-three turned his head back towards the rows of units, some of them barely able to stand, and some having Synthetic limbs attached. He turned back towards the Commander. “<:: I will, then.” He turned himself around, hearing the Commander chuckle darkly before sitting himself back on his crate. Two-oh-three took a few steps forward, stopping just as the wounded units started. He had doubts in his mind that after all these units had been through, that they would want to keep fighting against impossible odds.
He cleared his throat.
“<:: A-attention!” He yelled. As he did so, units began to turn their heads, some units began turning their heads as their limbs were sawed off. He paused, he got their attention, now what? “<:: Our..” He began, running on a blank, when suddenly he began to draw inspiration. “<::..Our fight is in the streets, with the Resistance and the bastard Watchers!” Units threw their arms in the air, yelling out proudly. The Commander sighed lightly, speaking just behind him. “<:: Fine.. we’ll remain here... and hold out as long as we can.” Two-oh-three turned around, speaking loud enough for the others to hear. “<:: Didn’t you hear me? We’re doomed if we stay.” He took a step forward, throwing an arm to the side. “<:: An army of 647E’s, the Watchers, have us in their sights. We barely survived them in waves!” The Commander stiffened, his fists clenching. “And you, Oh-three, just treated your Commander with disrespect! Maybe the Watchers isn’t all I should be worried about...” He paused, before remembering what he had heard about City Twenty, and how a resistance can start with a single spark. “<:: It takes but an idea to destroy a fortress, if we give up now, they’ll wipe out our entire city!” The Commander stomped forward, as if about to engage in conflict, when a voice boomed out with authority. “<:: Enough!” A large unit in a Commanders uniform strode around the corner, but had a Sectorial armband and optics. Each masked head in the room turned towards the Sectorial Commander as he spoke. “<:: As much as I hate to disagree...” He turned towards Two-oh-three, looking down at him with his arms crossed behind his back in a formal manner. “<:: But Two-oh-three has a point.” The Commander turned towards his in disbelief. “<:: Are you kidding me!?” He roared. “<:: You’re listening to.. to an Oh-three over how we should strike!?” The Sectorial Commander nodded, keeping rather calm. “<:: We should atleast try, find out for sure if its a death march.” The Commander strode forward slightly. “<:: What we should do, sir, is understand, clearly, that this is City Sevens final stand.” He turned slightly towards the other units watching, Two-oh-three included. “<:: Here, at the Citadel.” He clenched a fist, throwing to the side as he emphasized his point. “<:: We go we risk everything, every last unit, synthetic and machine. If we stand our ground...” He lowered his head slightly. “<:: ..We might just have a chance.”
“<:: No..” One-one-seven-oh-seven spoke, taking a few steps forward with his hands behind his back. “<:: If Two-oh-three is wrong about his plan...” He turned towards Two-oh-three, his optics reflecting the light from above. “<:: Then the resistance has already won.” The Commander sighed lightly, putting a hand to his mask as it slowly slide down. “<:: The Citadel..-” He lightly raised his hands, only up to his waist, lowering them back down to his side as he paced. “<::-Is all we have left..” He finally turned towards Two-oh-three. “<:: You really think this plan of yours has a chance of working?” Two-oh-three stood straight as he answered. “<:: Sir-” He nodded confidently. “<::-Yes sir.” He remained still as the Commander sighed, shaking his head lightly. “<:: This is either the best decision you’ve ever made or the worst..” He looked down at the floor, not meeting their gaze. “<:: Hell of it is, ‘Three..” He began to look up, meeting Two-oh-three’s gaze. “<:: I doubt I’ll live long enough to find out which...” He turned around, his head lowered as he sat back down on the crate, examining his OSIPR. He turned back towards the Sectorial Commander, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “<:: So now that we have a plan, how do we plan on getting down?” Two-oh-three turned towards the elevator doors, which were pried open, the dark shaft visible. “<:: The lifts lost function a while ago, one went all the way down to the basement.” Four-seventeen said from behind. Two-oh-three stared at the shaft, his eyes fixated on metallic, blue, elevator railing.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9wo1H1hOvc" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9wo1H1hOvc</a>
(// I highly recommend that you skip to 2:38, do it for the sake of City 7!)

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 12: The Push

Present-day october, 2017. Shortly after “The Coup”, is staged.

Location: City 7, The Citadel

The first floor of the Citadel was buzzing with activity, the resistance moving frantically to get all the supplies they could. As they worked, they were too busy to notice the insignificant detail that the railing for the lifts were lightly vibrating. One of the resistance carrying a crate turned towards the rail as its vibrating began to get more severe, almost completely noticeable now. He cocked a brow, tilting his head up towards the second floor. Nothing. He frowned skeptically, perhaps it was just another lift falling down. As he turned to exit, he saw something plummeting towards them in the dark void above. He swung his head back around, only to see a unit in a dirty uniform covered in oil and blood stains slide down towards him, MP7 held in his right hand as his left arm and both legs wrapped around the railing as he slide down. The unit pulled the trigger on his MP7, the SMG pulsating forward and back in his hand as the mans chest exploded with each shot, he tumbled backwards, the crate flattening him. As the unit continued to fire down at the resistance below, and as they began to acknowledge what was happening, more and more units followed, each wielding something different, from USP matches to OSIPR’s. The resistance below didn’t even have enough time to drop what they were carrying before being mowed down, the floor and walls of the Citadel being painted blood red. As the unit who kicked the attack off first, Two-oh-three swung himself off the railing as he reached the floor below, whipping around and firing in controlled bursts towards the fleeing resistance. More and more units gradually began to drop down onto the floor next to Two-oh-three, he waved his arm forward towards the door as they began to run out of room on the first floor. “<:: Push forward!” He yelled, walking forward with his MP7 held to his optics as they eliminated the remaining resistance inside. They jogged forward, the light beeping of a terminal heard shortly before the large bulkhead gates screeched open, sunlight pouring inside. The mass of units poured out of the entrance of the Citadel, guns blazing as they shot outwards towards the resistance that had hid behind the barricades outside. But this time, the resistance was prepared. CCA unit and Resistance alike tumbled to the ground in a bloody heap as the gunfire was exchanged. “<:: Keep the pressure on!” The commander roared, his OSIPR’s barrel exploding blue amongst all the yellow. The CCA continued to flood from the Citadel, a tidal wave of crisp, dirty uniforms and white masks. The resistance began to fall back from the barricades, running down either side of the street towards the city streets. Two-oh-three smiled under his mask as the mob of units began to pick up speed, from a slow walk to a full on sprint as the sound of boots against concrete echoed for all of the city to hear. As they ran, Two-oh-threes radio buzzed in his ear. “<:: We’ve gotten this far, now everyone make a circle around the outer-gates and push outwards! Operation: Tidal wave is now in effect!” The Sectorial Commander yelled over the radio. As the mob of units reached the gate to the outer-gates of the Citadel, units began to branch off to either side, circling around the walls until meeting up on the other side. Two-oh-three stood at the mouth of the gate, the train station just ahead. “<:: Ready weapons!” The Commander roared over the comms. Each unit took their weapons to their chest, before whipping it out in front of them with the barrel aimed outwards, the satisfying snap of a crisp uniform cascading across the city.
“<:: Administer!”
The circle of units, just a single line of units, began to march forward with boots parading across the concrete, firing outwards towards the resistance as they fought in alleys, in streets, and in courtyards. As they began to push outwards as one gigantic tidal wave, resistance members began to tumble forward on their stomachs as blood pooled from various parts of their bodies. Things began to look up for the CCA, it seemed like they had this in the bag, when the sound of multiple “Thumps!” coming from all directions tainted their spirits. A high pitched whistling came from above, small smoke trails from all around cascading down. Two-oh-three dove to the ground, his chest slamming into the concrete as an explosion rocked him from behind, obliterating the spot he was just in and knocking a couple of units off their feet. He looked over his shoulder, one unit was on the ground screaming as his arm from the elbow down was missing. Two-oh-three painfully stood up as resistance members began to flood back into the streets, guns blazing. Two-oh-three and the other units who were lined up with him quickly scattered, finding cover behind broken buildings and tossed over mailboxes. As gunfire was exchanged, the circle of units began breaking apart as each individual unit dove for cover, some not being so lucky in this venture. Two-oh-three looked around the corner of his piece of cover, noticing the exposed metal coil that held up a corner of the UCH, just above a group of resistance who were firing from chest high pieces of cover. Two-oh-three leaned around the corner, and fired in short controlled bursts. But not at the resistance, he fired at the exposed metal coil, his bullets pinging off the coil as it broke. Just as he predicted, there wasn’t a coil on the roof connecting to the coil in the corner. Concrete and plaster rained down from above, peppering the resistance as they tumbled to the floor, heads bleeding in a daze. With this new chance that had arisen, Two-oh-three and the units with him on that street opened fire, blood exploding from the chests and shoulders of the resistance as they tumbled backwards onto the ground. Two-oh-three sighed lightly, all the concrete and plaster had blocked the path to the main plaza, cutting off access to the train station. They would have to circle around through the ruined buildings and alleys, he thought grimly. He waved the units with him over to him as he entered through a hole in the UCH wall, weapon raised.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYYgsdg-T7M" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYYgsdg-T7M</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 13: Smoke and Mirrors

Present-day October, 2017

Location: City 7, in a crumbling apartment complex

As the three Metro police entered the apartment complex, two-oh-three already felt that he had locked himself into a concrete coffin. He peered over his shoulder, looking over the two units. Note to self: install program in helmet that displays unit ID by scanning their biosignal. Yeah, he’d have to make that, if he, well, survived. He only sighed lightly under his breath, one of them was a DAGGER oh-four and another was a FLATLINE oh-three. As they walked through the dark corridor, Two-oh-three began to notice how much the building was in structural disrepair. There were holes in the wall, some larger then others and exposing the frames of the walls. He peered up at the ceiling, looking over the cracks that snaked across the surface of the ceiling, every couple of seconds some dust from above would flutter down towards them. Two-oh-three looked back ahead of him with dread filling up inside of him, he looked over his shoulder again, noticing the two units behind him were actually checking their corners. Two-oh-three actually felt ashamed of himself for not making that his top-priority, instead of looking at cracked ceilings and holes in walls. When the next hole came up, he leaned forward slightly as he walked, aiming the barrel of his MP7 into the empty, almost foreboding room. The lack of light from the outside and the light sprinkling of dust from above made it look... grey. He straightened up as soon as he had gotten an eyeful, spinning the barrel of his MP7 back down the hallway. Two-oh-three licked his lips nervously, shaking some of the loose dust off his shoulders. Come on, just jump out already! He moved his head idly from left to right as he walked forward, slowing down slightly as they reached a four-way intersection. He lowered his MP7 slightly, peering around the corner to his right, the only possible target being the dust bunnies curled up on the floor. He peered over his shoulder as the oh-four aimed his USP match down the opposite hallway, giving Two-oh-three a light nod. Two-oh-three swiveled his head to the right, noticing the absence of the FLATLINE oh-three. The Oh-four turned and noticed as well, looking unnerved and worried. Before the two could utter a word, a vocoded scream echoed through the hallway they just spent the last half hour searching through. The Oh-four sped off towards the sound, Two-oh-three hot at his heels. The Oh-four swung around the corner of a large hole in the wall, and stopped short in his tracks. Two-oh-three swung around the corner as well, short of breath. “<:: Wh-.. what happened, whats wro-...” Two-oh-three began to trail off as his eyes widened in horror at the FLATLINE oh-three. The Oh-three had a large kitchen knife in his back, blood making its way down his vest and pooling on the floor.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbQ5sV-xvGM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbQ5sV-xvGM</a>

The Oh-four took slow steps forward towards the fallen unit, walking as if in a trance. He stopped just a footstep away from the fallen unit, before collapsing onto his knees. His head buckled forward slightly, his arms hanging limply as he stared at his fallen comrade. Two-oh-three simply stood behind him, remaining silent as the Oh-four seemed to decide right from wrong, true to lies. It was then he had a soft sniffling, before the Oh-four bowed his head and began to sob in his helmet, arms still limp beside him. Two-oh-three lightly bit his lip, feeling on the verge of tears himself, fearing the two knew each other. He stood silent, before a thought from the back of his mind crept up to the front of his mind, offering some advice. What would your higher-ups do? He thought briefly back towards the ones he had grown to know in City Seven, when his mind went back further, and began to look through the officers he had known. Who could he still remember? Two-oh-three rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he strained to think. Oh-Thirty-One, Two-One-One, Five-Sixty-Two.. he began to get a small headache as he tried to remember more. He shook his head lightly as he looked down upon the distraught unit. He took a couple steps forward, deciding it was best to come up with his own decisions. He crouched next to the unit, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. The unit jumped slightly, looking towards Two-oh-three as if he had just yanked him out of his own world. “<:: Its going to be alright..” Two-oh-three began. “<:: But we’ve gotta’ go, so that we don’t die in here, making his death in vain.” The young Oh-four nodded, sniffing back some tears under his helmet. The unit bent down over the Oh-three, some light clipping noises coming from him, when he straightened up and handed Two-oh-three a grenade. Two-oh-three flinched back slightly in surprise, before taking the grenade gingerly in his hand. Where the hell did an Oh-three get a utility belt? “<:: He found the belt and the grenades on a downed Oh-one...” The unit said softly, his voice cracking lightly. “<:: He was going to teach me how to throw one... b-but...” The Oh-four trailed off, bowing his head sadly. Two-oh-three held the grenade in his hand, his fingers lightly drum against it.
“<:: He was my friend...”
Two-oh-three’s teeth lightly grinded together, for a moment his mind briefly flashed to One-forty-seven, before returning to the subject at hand. With a quick swallow, Two-oh-three released his grasp on the Oh-fours shoulder, clipping the grenade to his vest by the pin. “<:: Come on, we have to get moving.” Two-oh-three paused. “<:: Your friend would want you to go on.” The Oh-four looked up, almost as if surprised Two-oh-three would say that. After a moment, he nodded, getting to his feet. The two turned to continue through the building, after exiting the room and entering the hallway, they began to hear voices and the “Klink! Klink!” of weaponry. Two-oh-three readied his MP7, aiming it down the hall.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64CndlJT2GM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64CndlJT2GM</a>

Two-oh-three looked over his shoulder, the Oh-four had been looking down the same hall, and was looking over his shoulder at him. Two-oh-three gave him a confident nod, confidence that he wasn’t sure he had, before raising his left hand, pointing two fingers and pointing forward. Move Forward. He tried to say, the Oh-four nodded, and the two began moving down the hallway as the voices began to grow louder, until finally, a shrill “Weapons free!” caused the whole apartment complex to explode into a orchestration of gun shots and screaming. Two-oh-three and the Oh-four fired down both ends of the hallway, Two-oh-three firing from the hip of his MP7, spraying it like a fire hose as resistance began to pour from holes down the hallway. Resistance after resistance began to tumble down to the ground on both ends of the hallway. This kid was actually pretty damn good, for an Oh-four. Two-oh-three lightly bumped his back against the Oh-four and gave the signal to move up. The unit nodded and fired down his end of the hallway, back-pedaling as Two-oh-three marched forward, MP7 spitting out white-hot lead. As they approached the intersection, the two units rotated, reloading as they did so, before firing down opposite ends of the hall, Two-oh-three back-pedaling and the Oh-four marching forward. As they reached the intersection, the two reloaded once more, rotating once again back to their original positions. Two-oh-three took a moment to fire down the right side of the intersection, filling a resistance member with a shotgun full of lead, when a vocoded scream behind him made his heart nearly jump out of his throat. He whipped around, not confident the shotgun wielding resistance was dead. The Oh-four was doubled over, USP match clattering to the ground as a resistance member had a large knife in his stomach. Two-oh-three stood in horror as he watched more resistance begin to pile onto him, if they couldn’t get Two-oh-three, they would take the Oh-four. They wanted blood. Two-oh-three’s jaw hardened, he aimed the MP7 at the lump of resistance, his finger on the trigger, when a gloved hand broke through the mass, a flashing grenade clutched in his hand. For a fleeting moment, Two-oh-three could see the Oh-four’s mask as he looked at him. A vocoded yell managed to escape his lips as he fought to keep the resistance on him, one word that would be his last. “<:: Go!” The grenade lit up again, making a second chirp. Two-oh-three couldn’t leave him, he didn’t want to, not now! But his mind made it up for him, live another day! His mind seemed to beckoned, and Two-oh-three seemed to agree, because he was already racing down the corridor. He heard a third chirp, followed by an ear-splitting explosion, followed by the snap of foundation. He clutched the grenade that was clipped to his vest, he wanted revenge, and he was going to get it the hard way. He yanked on the grenade that was clipped to his vest. The grenade, only being held by the pin, came off immediately, the red light flashed and the first chirp followed. He whipped around, his arm reeling back as if he were about to toss a football, the red light flashed again, the second chirp followed. Then he threw it. The grenade flew through the air, landing pin-side down before bouncing into the middle of the intersection, where he saw a horde of resistance skid to a stop, before beginning to run back the way they had come. Two-oh-three righted himself back towards the exit, running at a full-on sprint as the grenade exploded, and the foundation seemed to give up and make a sickening crack, before the apartment complex began to rumble as clouds of dust drifted down from the ceiling. Two-oh-three felt his hands cramp-up slightly as he squeezed the daylights out of his MP7 as he ran, his legs screaming at him to stop, the air tasting of paint. The square of light of the door was just ahead, and the fresh air tickled his lungs. He stumbled forward, beginning to dip forward slightly, before throwing himself to the floor, sliding along the floor, out of the apartment complex and into the street. For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything, and then he looked down, and saw the door he had just come through was blocked by a wall of debris. Two-oh-three lay his head back as now the only sound he could was the wind, and the apartment complex, or what remained, began to settle. It was then he realized that his face felt rather moist, and he realized he had been crying. Just at the edge of the top of his vision, he saw the tip of the trainstation roof.
All he could do then was lie on his back, and stare up at the sky, see if any orders come in.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXT50IgwvmY" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXT50IgwvmY</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 14: When Worlds Clash

Present-day October, 2017

Location: City 7, just outside the Trainstation

Two-oh-three lay with his arms spread on the ground, he felt drained and exhausted. He didn’t even realize why he was even crying anymore, it seemed as if his body made his emotional decisions for him now. He hadn’t heard even a whisper over his radio, and he was beginning to think he was the last unit alive. But if he was? Why him? Was he just too much of a coward to face a head-on force of 647E’s? The thought bothered him deeply as he slowly sat up, bowing his head in sorrow. He put a hand on the ground, before gradually pushing himself to his feet. He surely wouldn’t be helping his cause by just moping about, but that didn’t make him feel much better. He looked to the right, seeing dust settle by the apartment across the street from the one he just came out of. It struck him as odd that it probably just collapsed and he didn’t hear it, which also disturbed him. He peered over his shoulder at the train station behind him, perhaps there was a temporary base setup. He turned around, beginning to make his way to the train station. As he looked around, he noticed that each street and exit other then the train station was blocked by debris, almost like an arena. As he came around the corner of the fence that guarded the monument in the center of the plaza, Two-oh-three stopped in his tracks. Sitting on a bench a few paces away, was a man in a dirty and torn City 7 uniform, a hood was thrown over his head, but he could just see the side of his... face? He squinted, peering forward slightly and noticing the dark green, the respirator-like mouth before it curved back slightly into the hood, but he could still faintly see the single red optic. It hit him like a speeding RAZOR train, it was the man from only a few hours ago, who had trapped him in his barracks! Two-oh-three lowered his head down slightly, he started walking forward, his left hand balled into a fist. He’s the one who started all of this. His fingers wrapped around the grip of his USP match. Two-oh-three was the one who was going to end it. He yanked the USP match out of the holster, by now he was less then a yard away from the helmet-wearing 647E. He raised his arm, the light sound of his pistol made the man look towards him. His single red optic said nothing, only stared at him as if had done nothing wrong. What hadn’t he do wrong? Misuse of Union technology, countless deaths against Union personnel, destruction of Union property! The list went on and on in Two-oh-three’s head as he kept the pistol level with his optic. His jaw tightened, there would be no detainment.
He pulled the trigger.

The pistol spat out only a soft click.
Two-oh-three tilted his head to the side, he pulled the pistol closer to him, examining it closely. He weighed it slightly in his hand, there was still ammo inside, so it must of jammed. Damned pistol jamming, why now out of all times? He mentally slapped himself on the hand for thinking an audio violation. The elite-helmet wearing refugee stood up, groaning lightly as he held his side, his head bent down slightly as he straightened up, before staring at Two-oh-three, as if waiting to talk! Two-oh-three tensed slightly, he awaited for the man to try to punch him, shoot him, or spontaneously combust. After a moment which lasted an eternity, the refugee brought his hand to his 'mouth’, clearing his throat as if trying to be formal. “Two-oh-three, is it?” The man said, almost casually. Two-oh-three felt his head jump back slightly, how had he known his Unit Identification Number? As much as he hated to say it, Two-oh-three was rather disturbed. “<:: Yes.” Two-oh-three replied flatly.
“Then you know who I am.” The man seemed to challenge.
Two-oh-three lowered his head slightly, completely confused by who this man was. Did he know him in City Eighteen? City Eleven? Two-oh-three scratched the back of his neck as he racked his brain. No... I don’t think I know a Overwatch-wearing refugee, I think I would remember that. He looked up. “<:: No.” Benefactors, he was beginning to sound like some kind of synthetic! The refugee paused, as if not expecting that answer, before taking a small step forward. Two-oh-three stepped back, not feeling comfortable with a crazed killer getting within arms length of him. The refugee stopped, and spoke again. “Its me... Mike Boone? We.. we were friends.. when we were both transferred here.” Two-oh-three simply stared at the refugee, Mike Boone, remaining silent. At first, memories began to come up gradually, a man in a City Seven uniform, sitting down next to him without a suitcase, they were on a train. Suddenly then, it all hit him like the man was telepathically drilling everything back into his head. Two-oh-three brought a hand to the front of his helmet, wishing he could pinch the bridge of his nose right now. He bent his head down lightly as each memory, one by one, seemed to flash through his mind and he remembered. Boone. Boone was a friend, back when Two-oh-three was a citizen.
...Former friend.
 Two-oh-three straightened up, staring back at Boone, he certainly didn’t look all that familiar. “<:: I remember...” Two-oh-three began. “<:: You were.. you were here... an-and...” Two-oh-three trailed off, taking a half step back. “<:: I-it.. it can’t be..” Two-oh-three said, shaking his head, trying to deny it. “<:: I.. I would never... ever.. be friends with a 647-E..” Two-oh-three took heavy breathes, feeling as if he were about to pass out, before shaking his head again. “<:: I can still correct this...” Two-oh-three straightened up slightly, and reached behind him for his MP7, his fingers just brushed against the grip when Boone held out a hand like an old-world stop sign. “Don’t!” He pleaded. “I came all this way! I fought through resistance and Combine alike, to free you!” Two-oh-three remained silent a moment, resistance and Combine? Why would he be fighting both sides just to ‘free’ him? On another note, free him from what? Two-oh-three lightly shook his head, not satisfied with what this man had put in front of him. He spoke with a dark, monotonous tone.  “<:: You’re the enemy...” His fingers gripped the grip of his MP7, and he pulled it forward, sliding the frontal grip into his left hand. “<:: I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Boone stood stonewall still as Two-oh-three had uttered those words, almost as if he was still registering what he had just said. He looked up slightly, looking straight at him, their optics met. “So thats it then?” Two-oh-three remained silent, only tightening the grip on his MP7, which made his gloves make a soft sound. Boone seemed to remain still a moment, before whipping his right arm up and aiming a USP match at Two-oh-three, he was so lightning fast that Two-oh-three hadn’t even be fast enough to react. Boone squeezed the trigger once, and Two-oh-three felt his MP7 jump out of his hand as the round struck the side of it, catching Two-oh-three off guard and losing his grip, the MP7 clattered uselessly to the ground. This was the moment where Two-oh-three had wished he had gotten augments when he had the chance. He looked up, seeing Boone charging straight at him, his USP match gone. He collided with Two-oh-three, Two-oh-three felt the wind pushed out of him as he felt himself being pushed backwards. He hadn’t been giving much hand-to-hand training, but he knew being thrown to the ground was a big no-no. Two-oh-three on instinct dug his heels into the ground, he felt himself stop moving, and began to struggle against Boone’s grip. After a moment, he gained the upper hand, and shoved Boone to the ground. Two-oh-three leaped forward, he stood over Boone, clenching his right hand into a fist, his counter-measures deploying from the front of his datapad. Two-oh-three got lowered to the ground, using his free hand to keep Boone pinned to the ground, he raised his fisted hand into the air. Boone seemed to give up then, when he quickly looked right, then back at Two-oh-three. Boone reacted quickly, he brought his left hand, and punched Two-oh-three right in his facemask. Although the initial punch hadn’t actually hurt, it certainly threw him off. After a moment, he cleared his head, looking back down as Boone pressed his USP match into Two-oh-three’s thigh. This is gonna hurt. He then felt something that could only be described as being pierced by something thin in a matter of milliseconds. He looked up into the air, a vocoded howl of pain filling the plaza. He felt himself black out for a moment, and the next thing he knew he was on the ground, clutching his leg. He looked up, seeing Boone begin to limp away. He began to get angry at himself for letting a 647E like that get away, when he remembered the USP match he had holstered! He let go of his leg, holding it now with his left as his right hand dug into his holster. He drew the pistol, the light jingle made Boone turn around as Two-oh-three emptied a round into his torso. Boone doubled over, remaining still as a statue before tumbling to the ground. Boone remained motionless. Two-oh-three tilted his head back, resting his head on the concrete, now all he had to do was wait, for death or salvation.

After a few moments, the debris clustering the street on the left side of the plaza exploded violently. Two-oh-three looked up, watching as a group of about six resistance members made they’re way into the street. They spotted Two-oh-three, they all seemed to smile deviously as they began to approach, weapons drawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Boone begin to limp towards them. It looks like he was going to win this one. Two-oh-three was almost tempted to shoot himself to spare the pain and misery, when Boone did the unexpected. He lifted his right arm, and fired into the jaw of the nearest resistance member. The others eyes widened, seeming to have trouble registering what just happened. Three began turning around, firing at Boone as he took pot-shots over his shoulder. Two-oh-three raised his USP match, maybe Boone would return the favor. Two-oh-three fired into the backs of the three resistance firing at him, missing a couple of shots, but they all eventually hit their marks. As soon as the other three fell, Two-oh-three readjusted his aim to the two that remained. He pulled the trigger, only to hear the sound that lead to his doom, the sound of no ammo left in his pistol. He looked up as the one nearest him lined up his sights on him. His eye seemed to glow red behind the red dot sight. Two-oh-three’s jaw tightened in anticipation as seconds seemed to stretch to years. After a moment, two shots rang out, the red-eyed resistance member tumbled forward, eyes rolling into the back of his head. The second one was hit in the back of the knee, he collapsed to a knee. Two-oh-three watched as Boone continued to limp towards the alleyway, he was lucky Two-oh-three didn’t have ammo. He steadily reloaded as the last resistance member cried on the ground as he tried to get himself together. Two-oh-three whistled a soft tune, reciting the lyrics in his head. What do we do with a drunken whaler? What do we do with a drunken whaler? What do we do with a drunken whale? Early in the morning. He released the empty magazine from his USP match, letting it clatter uselessly to the ground. Way-hay and up, she rises. Way-hay and up, she rises. Way-hay and up, she rises. Early in the morning. He reached behind him, rummaging in his pouch for a fresh magazine, he pulled out a fresh one, taking his time as he continued to whistle. Stuff him in a sack and throw him over. Stuff him in a sack and throw him over. Stuff him in a sack and throw him over. Early in the morning. He slide the magazine into his USP match, with a flick of his wrist, the top of the barrel locked forward.  Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner. Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner. Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner. Two-oh-three raised his USP match, lining up the sight with his optics as he aimed directly for the head of his victim. The resistance member looked up in horror as he heard the light jangling of Two-oh-three’s pistol, his eyes filled with an immense horror, he began to sob and plead, but Two-oh-three couldn’t understand a word he said through all his blubbering. His finger tightened on the trigger. Early in the morning... He fired. The round burst out from his pistol, penetrating the man in his skull, sending loose bone and brain fragments exploding behind him. Two-oh-three give himself a mental pat on the back, relaxing a little bit, he leaned back down near the concrete. “<:: Good work, 'Three.” Two-oh-three tilted his head up, seeing the familiar Four-seventeen himself. “<:: Glad to see you’re alive.” Two-oh-three replied weakly. Four-seventeen nodded, and gestured to a FLATLINE unit, the unit came forward along with another one, both of them holding a stretcher. They loaded Two-oh-three on the stretcher. As they began to make off with him, the last thing Two-oh-three saw was another hole in a stack of debris.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1j2ADKH2QU" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1j2ADKH2QU</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 15: Under the radar

Present-day November, 2017

Location: Unknown, somewhere deep within City 7

“<:: Alright, he should be fine, just have to finish attaching this tourniquet..” The voice sounded distant, very deep and alien as it spoke. Two-oh-three shook his head lightly from side to side, feeling a soft pressure on his leg that increased in miniscule intervals. His mind was cloudy, and he felt numb all over. He opened his mouth to speak, but only ended up yawning. He heard a movement.. below him? He was staring at a blinding light, and couldn’t feel the ground below him, and he was propped against something. He looked down, tilting his chest down slightly as well. He saw a unit holding something in his leg, making some kind of adjustment as he stared at him for a moment, how was he standing like that if the ground was- Oh, Two-oh-three was lying down. He stared at the unit for a moment, before leaning his head back, staring back up at the light. After a moment, the pressure ceased, and he felt a light patting on his leg. “<:: Done.” The voice spoke, he began to realize it was the unit who was tending to him. He tilted his head back down again, tilting it to the side as he bent he chest downwards to see. He examined his thigh, a white tourniquet was wrapped around it, blood seeping through it. “<:: You should be able to walk fine, just try not to get shot there anymore, alright?” It was the unit again, FLATLINE judging from his armband. Two-oh-three only stifled a nod, letting out a short yawn. “<:: Where am I?” He spoke groggily. The FLATLINE unit looked behind him, at the doorway, before turning back to him. “I personally wouldn’t be able to tell ya’, all I know is that we found you by the train station and ran off with you before you could bleed out.” Two-oh-three tilted his head down slightly, now holding his torso up at a 45 degree angle. As his mind tumbled back towards the events that transpired, he began to feel uneasy, and tired. “<:: Was there someone there in a hood, a refugee?” The FLATLINE unit tilted his head to the side, then shook his head. “<:: You should focus on getting some rest, Four-seventeen will want to see you when you’re ready.” The FLATLINE unit turned on his heel, and walked out through the door that was behind him, shutting it behind him. Two-oh-three eased himself back on the table, he folded his hands on his stomach, and went into a troubled sleep.

[Darkshifter98]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl5xbFXrFU4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl5xbFXrFU4</a>

Chapter 2: Invasion

Day 16: The Calm Before The Storm

Present-day November, 2017

Location: Unknown, deep within City 7

A sudden stabbing pain pierces Two-oh-three’s thigh. Two-oh-three sits up and leans forward, clutching his thigh as he lets out a hideous groan. His teeth grind together as he breathes heavily through his vocoder. After a couple of moments, the pain subsides. He lets out a soft exhale, looking around at what surrounds him. There was a lamp hanging over him, and he was on a gurney it seems like. There was a table that held medical equipment, and a sink to his far right that was rather dirty looking. He lightly slid off the gurney, letting out a soft grunt, but rather surprised he could still walk. He walked with a limp, however. He pushed open the door to his room, turning away as light flooded his vision. His vision began to clear, and he found that it appeared to be late-morning. He looked around, there were over-turned tables scattered everywhere, flung on their sides for use in what, cover? Judging by what he saw, this must of been an apartment complex. He scratched the side of his helmet, about to ask where Four-seventeen was, when a vocoded voice spoke just to his immediate left. “<:: Wakey wakey, sleepy-head?” Two-oh-three looked to his left, spotting Four-seventeen in a blood stained vest and uniform, Two-oh-three had made the assumption that it was the blood of others. He turned to face him, nodding respectfully. “<:: Four-seventeen.” He reached up to salute, stopping himself mid-way, and lowered his arm down next to him. “<:: Good to see you’re still kicking.” Four-seventeen nodded. “<:: Likewise, ‘Three, how ya’ feelin’? Two-oh-three lightly shrugged. “<:: I’ve felt better, but I can walk.” Four-seventeen nodded, as if expecting this. “<:: Good, good.” He nodded a bit more, before looking back towards Two-oh-three. “<:: You should head back to the barracks, your shift starts in about six hours.” Two-oh-three tilted his head to the side. “<:: Shift?”
“<:: Units are taking turns guarding and watching for passing resistance, so we can prepare, hide, and fight accordingly.” Two-oh-three nodded in understanding. “<:: Point me towards the barracks?” Four-seventeen pointed to Two-oh-three’s right. Two-oh-three nodded, turning that direction and waving behind him in gratitude.