Time

Jasmine's gaze fixated on Solmon, who now faced a daunting challenge against the eight opposing Nephalems. Her eyes widened with concern, and she turned to Tot, her voice trembling with urgency. "We can't just stand here! We have to help him!" she pleaded desperately.

Tot regarded Jasmine with a calm demeanor, his decision unwavering. "No, Jasmine. Our duty lies in protecting the guards," he asserted firmly. In perfect synchronization, their pulse guns roared to life, sending Vultures hurtling through the air.

"But he's my brother, Tot!" Jasmine exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion as tears welled up in her eyes.

Tot offered a reassuring smile. "Solmon will be alright. I trust in his exceptional skills," he reassured her, hoping to alleviate some of her anxiety. Jasmine nodded, accepting Tot's words with a heavy sigh.

"Okay, if you say so," she conceded, her gaze shifting towards the guards engaged in a fierce battle for their lives on the battlefield. One of the guards desperately attempted to crawl away from a menacing Vulture, only to be abruptly silenced by a fatal shot to the back of the head. Without hesitation, the Vulture met its demise with a swift bullet to the neck.

Solmon faced the oncoming Nephalems with unwavering determination, a calculated resolve evident in his eyes. Erik's voice echoed through their Nephalem, filling the air with a sense of unwavering confidence. "Give 'em hell," Erik urged, a mischievous snicker accompanying his words. Solmon nodded in response, the machine guns mounted on his Nephalem's arms beginning to spin with a resolute intensity.

"Yes, sir. I will," Solmon affirmed, his Nephalem launching into a full sprint as the opposing Nephalems mirrored his charge.

Solmon's lips curled into a confident smirk as he propelled his Nephalem into the air, his gaze fixed upon the Nephalem responsible for launching the missiles. With precision, he aimed one of the machine guns directly at the threat.

In a reflexive response, the opposing Nephalem readied its own missile, but before it could be launched, Solmon unleashed a barrage of gunfire, striking the rocket and triggering a devastating explosion that obliterated half of the Nephalem's arm.

"As I said, I will buy you time!" Solmon declared, skillfully maneuvering his Nephalem as the opposing machine attempted to retaliate by targeting him with its remaining arm.

Just as the second missile emerged, primed to be fired, Solmon swiftly adjusted his aim, firing at the rocket with unwavering precision. The missile detonated mid-air, erupting into a fiery display.

Solmon wasted no time, relentlessly raining bullets upon the Nephalem, pushing it backward with each impact. It became evident that these opposing Nephalems were outdated models, their armor proving no match for Solmon's relentless assault.

The bullets effortlessly pierced through the metal, resulting in two distinct grunts of agony. As the Nephalem buckled under the assault, Solmon recognized the defining feature that set these machines apart from their own.

Knowing the danger they posed, he swiftly propelled his Nephalem backward, creating distance as the opposing Nephalem detonated in a spectacular explosion. "Self-detonating models. These haven't been used in twenty years," Solmon grunted, landing his Nephalem.

Erik's gaze remained fixed on the spectacle of the explosion before him. "These models... Oh God. They possess random detonation timers once both users are deceased," he exclaimed, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

A realization dawned upon him. "I'm guessing they're old Nephalem users," he added, his tone heavy with concern.

Cherry turned her attention towards Erik, her eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and worry.

"Why would there be former Nephalem users fighting alongside the terrorists?" she pondered aloud, Erik's thoughts drifting to Aqua.

Erik hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to disclose the truth. Eventually, he made up his mind. "Aqua... she was a Vulture," he revealed, his words hanging in the air as Cherry's eyes widened in astonishment. The revelation caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless.

"What?!" Cherry exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief and a myriad of questions swirling within her. "But why would she betray her own people? And why is she now on our side?" she pressed, her desire for understanding evident in her voice.

Erik shrugged, struggling to find concrete answers himself. "We encountered her during the intense battle at Titan City. She confessed to killing Zynkara and provided us with explanations. While she may have been involved in the bombing, she claims to have been double-crossed. So, I presume she's now aligned with us," he explained, attempting to shed light on Aqua's complex motivations.

Cherry's disbelief transformed into a mixture of concern and curiosity. "You kept this secret for days? Who else knows about Aqua's true allegiance?" she inquired, her mind racing to unravel the implications of this revelation. As she spoke, the automated repair process continued, the robotic entity diligently patching itself up.

"Bale and Zander are aware, but the others remain oblivious. Mara, Lando, and Hana are among those who are still unaware," Erik clarified, his attention divided between analyzing Solmon's ongoing struggle and Cherry's inquiries.

Cherry glanced around, searching for a familiar face in the chaos. "Where is Mara? We haven't seen her since we all made the leap," she wondered aloud, her curiosity piqued. Erik nodded in agreement, sharing her concern regarding their missing comrade.

Mara found herself seeking refuge within a building, accompanied by a group of fellow guards who were also seeking shelter from the relentless barrage of bullets raining down upon them.

Restlessness and frustration permeated the air, as one of the guards voiced their impatience. "When are we going to gather our strength and engage in battle?" they questioned, their voice laden with a mix of anticipation and urgency.

Mara remained silent, her gaze fixated on the world outside the window. Her fingers brushed against the surface, dislodging a cloud of dust that had settled on the glass.

A guard, growing increasingly concerned for their comrades fighting outside, hissed at Mara, imploring her to join the fray.

"Mara! Our comrades are losing their lives while we seek shelter!" they admonished, their words tinged with a sense of reproach.

Slowly, Mara turned to face the group of guards, and they noticed a striking difference in her demeanor. Something peculiar was happening; an inky blackness began to encircle her eyes, resembling smoldering embers.

Worried, one of the guards cautiously approached her, voicing their concern. "Mara, are you alright?" they inquired, their voice betraying their anxiety.

A flood of memories rushed through Mara's mind, overwhelming her senses. She recalled the disorienting experience of being on that operating table, undergoing a "reboot" of sorts.

The sudden onslaught of recollections caused her eyes to widen in distress, and she clutched her head, feeling as if her very being was unraveling.

Sensing her distress, the concerned guard stepped closer, fearing that Mara might be in a state of shock. Their worry was mirrored by the rest of the guards, who watched the scene unfold with a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

Abruptly, without warning, the guard felt the icy touch of cold metal pressed against their temple. A split second later, a sickening popping sound filled the air, followed by an abyss of darkness that engulfed the guard's consciousness. The lifeless body collapsed, crimson streams of blood trickling from the fatal wound.

The remaining guards stood frozen in a state of shock, their eyes locked on Mara, who now stood upright, her firearm in hand, wisps of smoke lingering in the air after the shot.

Unbeknownst to them, tears streamed down her face, a testament to her inner turmoil and overwhelming fear. She stared at her bewildered comrades, terror emanating from her gaze.

"I can't go back! I can't go back!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of anguish and desperation. With trembling hands, she aimed her gun once more, firing at another guard, the bullet finding its mark in the vulnerable expanse of their neck.

The repetitive declaration of her inability to return echoed through the room, each subsequent shot punctuating her despair.

The chilling sound of lifeless bodies collapsing resonated within the empty confines of the building. As Mara reluctantly opened her eyes, she was greeted by a macabre scene.

Blood adorned the walls and pooled on the floor, a haunting testament to the irreversible damage she had inflicted upon those who once fought alongside her.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she found herself trapped in a vortex of anguish, grappling with the harrowing consequences of her actions.