Command: Blood and Steel

Red's Command

The jungle air hung thick and humid, every breath saturated with the scent of sweat, dirt, and blood waiting to be spilled. Red stood still, perfectly poised at the center of the clearing, eyes sharp beneath her helmet. Around her, the grid boundary shimmered with barely contained power. Aegis had deployed it at full capacity, a translucent circle that hummed with energy, its reach covering the entire clearing and beyond, pulsing like the heartbeat of the battlefield.

"Grid boundary at maximum configuration," Aegis's voice whispered into her mind, cool and mechanical. "Enemy tech interference confirmed. Platforms down by thirty-seven percent efficiency. Infantry weaponry operating at less than half power. They are at a disadvantage."

Red didn't need the confirmation to know that. She could feel the raw energy coursing through her veins, making her every sense sharper, every thought quicker. The grid boundary wasn't just a defense; it was an enhancer, feeding into their suits, making them faster, deadlier. The enemy's armor and weapons might as well have been toys at this point. And they were about to find out just how outclassed they were.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, the familiar weight of her pistols grounding her as she surveyed the field. Around her, her team waited. Every breath, every flex of muscle, every charged nerve—they were waiting for her command.

"Engage."

The word slipped from her lips like a bullet leaving the chamber, and everything exploded into motion.

Red moved first, her dual pistols already in hand, firing before the enemy even knew they were being attacked. Her shots were precise, silent in their lethality. The first infantryman went down, his rifle slipping from his hands as a hole the size of a quarter burned clean through his chest. No scream, no time for panic. Just instant death.

Her body twisted, her arms a blur as she adjusted the angle, her second shot ricocheting off a rock and embedding itself in the throat of another soldier who thought he could hide. Blood sprayed in a fine mist as he collapsed, his fingers clawing uselessly at the ground.

"Targets neutralized," Aegis confirmed in her ear, but Red's mind was already moving ahead.

She advanced, her boots crunching softly against the jungle floor, her eyes never leaving the chaotic battlefield unfolding in front of her. Aegis highlighted the positions of the remaining infantry, each one marked in her HUD like glowing red targets begging to be erased.

She was a hunter, moving with the precision and grace of a predator who knew the kill was coming. The grid boundary fed into her reflexes, making time stretch and bend, each enemy's movement telegraphed long before they made it.

Another soldier raised his rifle, struggling against the grid's interference as the mechanisms in his suit faltered. Red didn't blink as she fired. The shot was clean, puncturing his skull and sending him crashing back into the dirt. His helmet cracked open, leaking blood like a broken jar of wine.

Her lips twitched into a grim smile beneath her helmet. "Infantry units are dwindling," she noted.

"Aerial units attempting to reposition. Automated platforms are compensating," Aegis informed her.

She holstered one pistol briefly, pivoting toward the north as a new squad of infantry moved in from the treeline. Their movements were sluggish, clumsy, the grid tearing at their endurance suits and leaving them vulnerable.

Her pistol fired three rapid shots, each one finding its mark. Blood sprayed the leaves in thick arcs, painting the jungle in violent strokes of red. The soldiers didn't even have a chance to scream before they hit the ground, dead before they could process what had happened.

"Aegis, give me targets."

The AI complied, her HUD shifting to focus on the western quadrant. Three more enemy soldiers, their rifles struggling against the interference, trying desperately to lock onto her. Pathetic.

She aimed and fired with surgical precision. The first shot blew a hole clean through the chest of the nearest soldier, his body convulsing as he hit the ground. The second ricocheted off a tree branch and buried itself in the throat of the second. The third... well, the third was just for fun. She angled her pistol slightly, firing through the legs of the last soldier, dropping him to his knees.

He didn't scream, but the agony was written in every twitch of his body. Red approached slowly, her steps deliberate. When she reached him, she didn't hesitate. Her pistol pressed against his forehead, the heat of the barrel burning into his skin before she pulled the trigger. His body slumped, the light in his eyes extinguished in an instant.

"Next," she muttered, her gaze already shifting toward the automated platforms that lumbered near the far side of the clearing.

"Black," she called through the neural link, her voice steady but commanding. "Take care of those platforms. I don't want to see them standing in thirty seconds."

"On it," came Black's rumbling response, his voice dripping with anticipation.

Red holstered her pistols briefly, glancing toward the center of the clearing. Blue was still there, still unmoving. Still a wild card. He hadn't stirred since the battle began, but Red hadn't forgotten him. No, she wouldn't forget him. Not until this was over.

But first, the enemy had to be eliminated.

"We finish this first," she said through the neural link, her voice cold and unyielding. "Then we deal with him."

Her focus returned to the battlefield. The enemy forces were dwindling, but they were far from defeated. And as long as they still drew breath, the Rangers' work wasn't done.

Black's Rampage

Black's heart pounded in his chest, his breathing slow and deep as the energy of the grid boundary surged through him. The moment Red's voice came through the neural link, giving the command to engage, his lips split into a feral grin beneath his helmet. This was what he lived for—the raw, visceral rush of combat.

"Platforms. Thirty seconds." Red's voice was steady, her orders clear. Black didn't need anything more. His mind zeroed in on the automated platforms standing at the far edge of the clearing, their hulking forms already faltering under the grid interference.

Bastion's voice, smooth and detached, crackled through his neural link. "Grid charge ready. Targets: three platforms directly ahead. Enemy weapons systems operating at reduced capacity."

Black's grip tightened on Noisemaker, the energy from the grid pulsing through the weapon as it crackled in his hands. For most of their missions, Noisemaker had been a devastating battleaxe or a precision cannon, each form designed to tear through enemies in brutal fashion. But today, Black wanted something different—something more devastating.

With a growl of anticipation, he flexed his hands, and Noisemaker responded. The familiar weight of the axe shifted, the blades folding inward, reforming as the weapon condensed into a massive war hammer. The head of the hammer pulsed with energy, glowing faintly as the transformation locked into place, the grip solid and heavy in Black's hands.

It was slower than the axe, but Black could already feel the difference. The hammer wasn't just a tool of destruction—it was annihilation in its purest form. One hit, and anything in its path would crumble.

The first platform came into view, its targeting systems sputtering in a futile attempt to lock onto Black. But he was already on the move. The ground trembled beneath his boots as he closed the distance, Noisemaker raised high above his head. With a bellowing roar, Black brought the hammer crashing down.

The impact was like a detonation. Metal screamed as the hammer crushed into the platform's armor, bending it inward as if it were made of tin. Sparks erupted in all directions, the platform's systems shorting out instantly under the sheer force of the blow. The machine collapsed in on itself, a twisted pile of broken steel and shattered circuits.

"Target neutralized," Bastion noted, his voice calm amidst the carnage.

But Black didn't stop. His muscles were coiled, energy from the grid charge fueling his every movement. The second platform loomed ahead, its weapon systems glitching as it struggled to recalibrate under the interference. It was far too slow. Black barreled forward, closing the gap in seconds, and swung Noisemaker in a wide, sweeping arc.

The hammer connected with a sickening crunch, and the platform's legs buckled beneath it, the entire structure collapsing under the weight of the strike. The sound of shattering metal filled the clearing as the platform crumpled, its broken frame slamming into the jungle floor.

"Two down. One remaining," Bastion's cold, emotionless voice echoed in Black's mind, a sharp contrast to the bloodlust burning through him.

The third platform was retreating, its heavy frame moving awkwardly as its targeting systems faltered. Black's grin widened beneath his helmet. The platform might have been retreating, but there was no escape.

Noisemaker shifted again, the war hammer retracting and reforming into its cannon form. The barrel hummed with crackling energy, glowing as it charged. Black took aim, locking onto the retreating machine. With a single pull of the trigger, the cannon fired, the blast cutting through the air like a bolt of lightning.

The explosion was immediate and violent. The platform erupted in a ball of fire and twisted metal, the blast ripping through the clearing, sending debris flying in all directions. The jungle trembled as trees shook and splintered under the force of the detonation.

"Target destroyed," Bastion confirmed, though Black didn't need the confirmation. The wreckage told the story.

Black took a deep breath, feeling the rush of adrenaline still surging through him. His grip tightened on Noisemaker as the cannon shifted back into its war hammer form, the head of the weapon pulsing with residual energy. He scanned the battlefield, eyes locking onto his next target.

"Bastion, give me more."

"Four infantry units approaching from the west. Range: one hundred meters."

Black's grin returned, the fire in his veins burning even hotter. "Perfect."

He turned, his body a blur of motion as he charged toward the approaching soldiers. They were scattered, their rifles barely functioning under the grid's interference. Their movements were sluggish, clumsy, like prey caught in a predator's trap.

The first soldier managed to raise his rifle just as Black reached him, but it didn't matter. Noisemaker came down with the force of a collapsing mountain, the hammer smashing into the soldier's torso with a sickening crunch. Bones shattered, armor caved in, and the man was sent flying backward, his body colliding with a tree before slumping to the ground, limp.

The second soldier barely had time to react before Black swung again, Noisemaker carving a brutal path through the jungle. The hammer connected with the side of the man's head, and his helmet cracked open like an egg, blood and brain matter spraying out in a gruesome arc. The body crumpled, twitching once before going still.

"Two more remaining," Bastion observed.

The third soldier, wide-eyed with fear, turned to run, his boots slipping in the mud as he stumbled through the jungle. Black's laugh was a deep, guttural sound as he raised Noisemaker, the war hammer once again shifting back into its cannon form. The fleeing soldier didn't make it ten feet before Black fired, the blast vaporizing him in an instant, leaving nothing but a smoldering crater where he had once stood.

The last soldier froze, paralyzed by fear as Black turned toward him. His rifle slipped from his hands, falling uselessly to the ground as he stumbled backward, his body trembling. Black could see the terror in the man's eyes, the knowledge that death was only seconds away.

Black took his time. Each step was deliberate, the hammer humming with power as he approached. The soldier whimpered, shaking his head as if denying the inevitable. But it didn't matter.

With a final swing, Black brought Noisemaker crashing down, the hammer obliterating the soldier's chest in a single, brutal strike. His body crumpled inward, blood spilling across the jungle floor as the last breath left his lungs.

Black stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving with the remnants of adrenaline. The jungle was littered with debris, bodies, and the acrid smell of scorched metal and blood. His visor flickered as Bastion marked new threats on the horizon, but Black barely noticed. The fire in his veins was still burning, and he wasn't done yet.

"More," Black growled, his voice thick with bloodlust. "I want more."

Pink's Lethal Dance

Pink's body moved like liquid through the battlefield, her steps light, almost playful, as chaos erupted around her. She watched with detached amusement as Red's command cut through the neural link, her team springing into action. The grid boundary pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, its energy coursing through her veins, making her feel invincible.

She grinned beneath her helmet, knowing full well what was coming. "Alright, Prism," she purred. "Time to have some fun."

The moment the words left her lips, Pink deployed her holo decoys. Normally, four would be enough to wreak havoc, but under the grid's amplification, eight perfect replicas of her shimmered into existence, each armed and ready. They spread out like predators stalking prey, weaving through the trees, their movements erratic and unpredictable.

Prism controlled them all with flawless precision, each decoy switching between weapons as needed. Plasma rounds, incendiary rounds, concussive blasts—everything at their disposal. Each decoy was a mirror of Pink herself, and as the first few aerial units tried to adjust to the chaotic field, she watched with gleeful anticipation.

Pink's rifle hummed in her hands as she took aim at the drones struggling to maintain altitude. "Let's light up the sky, shall we?"

The first plasma round lanced through the air, hitting a drone dead center. It exploded in a burst of fiery sparks, its remains crashing down through the jungle canopy in a flaming wreck. Her decoys followed suit, firing off in rapid succession. Plasma and incendiary rounds tore through the aerial units like hot knives through butter, one after the other bursting into flames.

"Oh, baby, you look so good when you burn," Pink cooed through the comms, her voice dripping with dark amusement. She could practically hear the chaos in the enemy comms as the drones faltered, their systems failing under the relentless barrage.

Another drone exploded, and Pink let out a satisfied hum. "Another one bites the dust," she taunted, switching to concussive rounds. Her decoys mimicked the switch instantly, their rifles flashing as they targeted the remaining aerial units.

One drone managed to veer off course, trying to escape the onslaught. Pink's finger tightened on the trigger, and a concussive round fired off, the force of the shot sending the drone spiraling into the jungle below. The explosion that followed shook the ground beneath her boots, but Pink barely blinked.

She chuckled to herself, her voice still leaking into the comms. "You boys better keep up," she teased, her gaze flicking toward the infantry now scrambling below. "The fun's just getting started."

Her decoys were already on the move, each one targeting the panicked soldiers as they tried—and failed—to find cover. One soldier made the mistake of running, his endurance suit malfunctioning under the grid interference. Pink's decoy fired off a shot, and the plasma round caught him square in the back, melting through his armor and flesh in seconds. He hit the ground screaming, his body convulsing as the burning plasma consumed him.

Pink tilted her head, her eyes gleaming behind her visor. "Mmm, I love it when they scream."

Another soldier—smarter, or maybe just luckier—ducked behind a fallen tree, thinking he was safe. Pink's rifle switched to incendiary rounds, and with a casual flick of her wrist, she fired. The round hit the tree trunk, igniting it in flames that quickly spread to the soldier's cover. He panicked, throwing himself out from behind the burning wood, but Pink's decoys were waiting. Four shots rang out in unison, plasma rounds piercing his body and setting him ablaze as he crumpled to the ground, his screams echoing through the jungle.

Pink laughed, the sound dark and twisted. "You should've stayed hidden, darling."

She turned her attention back to the clearing, where Black was in the middle of his own carnage. She watched with mild interest as he brought down Noisemaker in its war hammer form, crushing a soldier with the kind of brutality that made Pink shiver with appreciation.

"Oh, Black," she cooed into the neural link, her voice thick with amusement. "You and that hammer—absolutely delicious."

But she didn't linger. There was more blood to be spilled, and her decoys were already moving on to the next targets. The infantry below were scrambling, their rifles barely operational under the grid interference, their endurance suits slowing them to a crawl. They were lambs to the slaughter, and Pink wasn't one to miss an opportunity.

"Prism, let's make this interesting," she said, switching her rifle to homing rounds. Her decoys followed suit, their weapons locking onto the remaining soldiers as they tried to escape.

Pink watched as her decoys fired, the homing rounds curving through the air, chasing down the fleeing infantry like heat-seeking missiles. The rounds hit their targets with precision, exploding on impact, sending limbs and body parts flying in all directions. The jungle floor was soaked in blood, the bodies of the soldiers crumpling like broken dolls.

"Look at you all," Pink said, her voice a soft purr. "Falling apart so beautifully."

She moved through the carnage like a ghost, her decoys flanking her, each one firing at any straggler they could find. Every shot was a kill, every blast sending another soldier to the ground in a heap of blood and broken armor. And every time one of her decoys scored a kill, Pink couldn't help but taunt the survivors.

"Didn't anyone teach you boys how to play?" she mocked, her tone light but deadly. "Come on, at least make it fun for me."

One soldier stumbled forward, his legs barely functioning as his suit malfunctioned. He raised his rifle, but before he could fire, Pink's decoy stepped in front of him, blocking his path. The decoy's rifle lowered slightly, as if considering him for just a moment, before firing a single, precise shot. The plasma round burned through the man's skull, his body collapsing like a ragdoll.

Pink sighed contentedly, her rifle lowering as she surveyed the scene. The jungle floor was littered with bodies, the air thick with the scent of burning flesh and blood. It was carnage, and Pink reveled in every second of it.

"Oh, sweetie," she whispered into the comms, her voice a low, sultry drawl. "I'm just getting started."

Yellow's Deadly Precision

Yellow moved like a shadow, silent and lethal, weaving through the retreating soldiers like a predator stalking prey. The grid boundary amplified her natural agility, turning her into little more than a flicker in the enemy's vision. The panicked rapid response teams didn't know where to look—where to shoot. And that suited Yellow just fine.

Her daggers gleamed in the dim jungle light, coated with a mix of poisons, paralytics, and psychotropics. Normally, she enjoyed toying with her victims, watching them writhe as the toxins worked their way through their systems, but not today. Today was about efficiency. Today, she was going for kill shots.

Echo, her AI, whispered through the neural link, providing constant updates as her movements blurred through the battlefield. "Hostiles are in full retreat. Systems failure in their endurance suits confirmed. Rifles are at thirty percent operational capacity. Easy targets."

Easy, indeed.

Yellow's HUD highlighted a cluster of soldiers ahead, their formations falling apart as they scrambled to flee. They were slow, too slow. Her Grid camouflage rendered her almost invisible as she closed the distance, her movements quick and fluid. She slipped through the trees, her steps silent, her body a blur as she closed in on the first soldier.

The man didn't even see her coming. One moment, he was fumbling with his rifle, the next, Yellow's dagger was slicing through the exposed joint in his armor, severing the artery in his neck. Blood sprayed in a perfect arc, and before the man could even register the pain, he was already dead, his body crumpling to the jungle floor.

Yellow didn't stop. Her body was already in motion, her mind focused on the next target. The second soldier tried to raise his rifle, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the trigger. He managed to fire off a single, erratic shot, but Yellow was too fast. She ducked beneath the shot, her dagger flashing as she drove it up under his ribcage, puncturing his lung.

The soldier gasped, blood bubbling at his lips as he collapsed to his knees, his body shaking violently. Yellow twisted the blade, watching as the light slowly faded from his eyes. His death was quick, merciful compared to what she could have done. But there was no time for games today.

"Like the tides of the ocean," Yellow murmured softly, her voice barely a whisper as she pulled her blade free, the man's body slumping lifelessly to the ground. "I wash over you, and you're gone."

She moved again, her HUD marking another group of soldiers as they stumbled through the jungle, their retreat nothing short of desperate. They were in full panic mode now, their rifles barely functioning, their endurance suits malfunctioning with every step. She could hear their ragged breaths over their comms, could sense their fear in the way they moved. They knew they were being hunted.

Yellow's lips curved into a thin smile beneath her helmet. Fear made them sloppy. And sloppy made them dead.

Echo spoke again, its voice calm and methodical in her mind. "Three targets ahead. Suggest poison blend for immediate termination."

Yellow didn't need the suggestion. She was already on the move, her daggers slipping silently into the mix of toxins as she darted toward her next targets. Her Grid camouflage shimmered as she weaved through the trees, her body flickering in and out of sight.

The first soldier spotted her—just a flicker in the corner of his eye. He turned, eyes wide with terror as he tried to raise his malfunctioning rifle. But Yellow was already behind him. Her blade pierced the base of his skull, severing the spinal cord in one clean strike. His body stiffened, then fell limp, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

The second soldier let out a terrified scream, his legs trembling as he stumbled backward, his rifle useless in his hands. Yellow was on him in seconds, her dagger flashing as she drove it into his gut. The poison worked quickly, his muscles seizing up as the paralytic took hold. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Yellow watched, her eyes cold and unfeeling as the man convulsed, his limbs twitching as the psychotropics in her blade began to take effect. He tried to scream, but the sound was strangled, his throat too tight to release more than a gurgle of terror. She twisted the blade slowly, watching as his pupils dilated, his body jerking violently as the toxins overwhelmed his system.

"I would say it's peaceful," Yellow whispered softly, "but we both know it's not."

She pulled the blade free, and the soldier collapsed into the mud, his body twitching in the throes of death. There was no mercy here—only death, quick and efficient. Yellow moved on.

The third soldier was already running, his boots slipping in the mud as he desperately tried to flee. His rifle was nothing more than dead weight, his endurance suit sputtering with failure warnings. He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes wide with fear, but Yellow was already closing in. She moved like the wind, silent, lethal, her daggers gleaming as she approached.

She could hear his ragged breathing, the pounding of his heart as he stumbled through the jungle, his legs barely able to carry him. The fear was palpable, radiating off him in waves. Yellow relished it.

She lunged, her blade slicing cleanly through the man's Achilles tendon, sending him crashing to the ground with a scream. He tried to crawl away, his fingers digging into the mud, but Yellow was already on him. She straddled his back, her dagger pressing against the base of his neck as she leaned down close to his ear.

"You can stop running now," she whispered, her voice soft, almost soothing. "It's over."

With a swift, precise motion, she drove the blade down, severing his spinal cord. His body jerked once, then stilled, his breath leaving him in a final, shuddering gasp.

Yellow rose to her feet, her daggers dripping with blood as she surveyed the battlefield. The jungle was littered with bodies, the air thick with the stench of death. The rapid response teams were in full retreat, but they wouldn't get far. Not while she was hunting.

She moved through the carnage, her body a flicker of motion as she closed in on the next group of soldiers. Her daggers gleamed, ready for the kill.

The Unidentified Ranger Rises

Red's pistols cooled in her hands, the smell of burning plasma still lingering in the air as she surveyed the battlefield. The grid boundary thrummed softly around them, amplifying her team's abilities as they wiped out the last remnants of the enemy infantry. Her mind was sharp, focused, already calculating their next move. The victory was in sight. Until...

A flash of movement caught her eye.

Her gaze snapped toward the center of the clearing, where Blue lay motionless. He should have stayed that way, beaten down by the sheer force of the assault. But now, as if defying logic, he was moving. Slowly but surely, Blue was rising to his feet.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The faint blue glow that had surrounded his suit earlier—barely noticeable amidst the chaos—was now blazing. The aura pulsed with energy, rippling around him in waves, growing stronger, more intense. Red's HUD scrambled to process the surge in power, her mind struggling to make sense of what she was seeing.

"He's... he's getting up," Red's voice was soft, laced with disbelief as she watched the impossible unfold. "No... how?"

Aegis fed her data at lightning speed, its voice tinged with something close to alarm. "Energy output from the unidentified Ranger is spiking. Suit systems appear to be regenerating. His vitals are stabilizing."

Red's fingers tightened around her pistols, her heart pounding as the reality of the situation hit her. Blue wasn't just getting back up—he was recovering, and fast. The blue aura around him wasn't just a fluke. It was a storm, building, crackling with power that seemed to defy everything they'd thrown at him.

Her voice cut sharply through the neural link. "Team—stop the pursuit. The unidentified Ranger is recovering."

There was a moment of silence, a ripple of shock that surged through the link. Black, Pink, and Yellow had been in the thick of the carnage, dismantling the rapid response teams with brutal efficiency, but now, her command hit them like a lightning bolt.

"What?" Pink's voice broke through first, dripping with disbelief, a manic edge to her tone. "You mean Blue is still kicking? Oh, darling, this just got interesting." Her laughter followed, a dark, twisted sound that echoed in the comms. "I wonder if he'll put up a fight this time. Mmm, I do love it when they squirm."

Red didn't respond. Her eyes remained locked on Blue as his aura flared brighter, the light so intense it was almost blinding. He stood tall now, his body crackling with energy. Whatever they'd hit him with hadn't stopped him—it had made him stronger.

"Forget the infantry. Forget the encirclement," Red barked through the link, her voice hard, unyielding. "All Rangers—move to pacify Blue. Now."

Black's response was immediate, a deep, rumbling growl that sent vibrations through the neural link. "Finally," he muttered, his voice thick with anticipation. "I'm going to run through him like a goddamn battering ram." Black's feet were already pounding the jungle floor as he turned toward the clearing, his body like a freight train barreling forward. "I'm done playing with these tin soldiers—let me crush something that fights back."

His bloodlust was palpable, the promise of a true challenge igniting the fire in his chest. Noisemaker hummed in his grip, the war hammer ready to obliterate anything in its path. And Blue? Blue was the perfect target.

"I'll clear the way," Black growled. "Or crush him."

Red knew Black's recklessness all too well, but this time she needed his raw power. Whatever was happening with Blue, they couldn't afford hesitation.

Then Yellow's voice slithered through the link, low and predatory. "He's rising..." she whispered, her tone full of dark hunger. Yellow's eyes locked onto Blue's shimmering form as she prowled through the jungle, her daggers still slick with blood from her last kill. "Let him get up. I want to see the look in his eyes when I carve him open."

There was something primal about Yellow now, something predatory that had been lurking just beneath the surface but was now dialed to eleven. Her every move was calculated, lethal. She was no longer just a hunter—she was the apex predator, and Blue had become the prey.

"Like a wounded animal, he doesn't know when to stop," she hissed. "But don't worry—I'll show him how it ends."

Yellow's camouflage flickered as she moved like a ghost through the trees, her focus narrowing in on Blue. Every step was deliberate, every breath a measured beat of her deadly intent.

Red's heartbeat quickened as the cool metal steadying her focus. She didn't have the luxury of doubt, and she sure as hell didn't have time to question what was happening to Blue. All she knew was that they needed to stop him—before this went any further.

"All units—on me!" she barked, her voice cutting through the neural link like a blade. "We take him down, together."

Without waiting for confirmation, Red's legs propelled her forward, her body surging into motion as she charged toward the clearing. The jungle around her blurred into streaks of green and brown as the adrenaline coursed through her veins, her pistols still drawn, ready to fire. Blue's shimmering form in the distance was becoming more defined, his blue aura glowing like a beacon.