"Hold the line!"
"Watch your flank!"
Screams mingled with the screeching of Unus and the crackle of energy weapons. The Provisional Harmonics fought desperately against the relentless tide of Category 1 creatures pouring from the ruined streets.
A kinetic shield shattered; its wielder cried out as claws raked across his armor. Another Harmonic, overwhelmed by sheer numbers, disappeared under a wave of skittering bodies.
"Conserve your Resonance!" Sheldon smashed a Unus with his rock-plated fist. "Use your gear! Don't burn out your Characters fighting trash mobs!"
His words were practical, necessary. But fear was a potent motivator. Facing death, few hesitated to unleash their full power, hoping brute force would see them through. Survival trumped strategy in the heat of battle.
After blasting another wave of attackers, Sheldon glanced impatiently towards Rackell. She stood rigid, sweat beaded on her forehead, the incandescent laser beam extending from her hands slowly tracing a molten line around the blast door's massive hinges.
"FIRE LADY! How much longer?!" Sheldon bellowed.
"Almost there! Another minute! Maybe less!" She yelled back through gritted teeth. Her arms were trembling with the strain
"Make it less!" Another guild leader shouted as he narrowly dodged a lunging Striker.
Inside the shelter, huddled together in the dim emergency lighting, the survivors watched the glowing line creep across the door's inner surface. Hope flickered in their frightened eyes.
"She's doing it…" someone whispered.
"But what then?" another voice countered nervously. "Once that door is down… we're exposed. What if more Unus come?" Fear mingled with their hope.
SKREEEEEEECH!
A familiar, high-frequency cry ripped through the air outside, instantly silencing the sounds of the lesser Unus battle. Every Harmonic looked up sharply. Descending rapidly from the smoke-filled sky, wings beating powerfully, was the Spike Dweller. It appeared unharmed, perhaps even enraged, by its earlier burial.
"It's back! Spike Dweller!"
"Target the Floater! Now!"
Instinct took over. Despite the immediate threat of the ground swarm, every Harmonic capable of ranged attacks immediately shifted their fire upwards towards the more significant danger. Energy bolts, kinetic shards, shadow tendrils – all converged on the descending Unus.
WHOOSH!
The Spike Dweller reacted instantly. With contemptuous ease, it slashed its barbed tail through the incoming barrage, deflecting or slicing through most of the projectiles. It screeched again, a sound that vibrated deep in their bones, and the air around it rattled violently. Over a hundred distorted ripples materialized in an instant.
"Spikes incoming! Corrosive haze!" Sheldon yelled a warning.
From the ripples, a dense volley of crystalline spikes rained down, glowing faintly with the sinister black energy that preceded the corrosive mist.
"Earth Dome!"
Sheldon thrust his hands towards the sky and a massive dome of packed earth erupted upwards, trying to shield the group. But the spikes impacted with tremendous force and punched through the earthen barrier. Worse, the black haze followed and was seeping through the cracks like poisonous smoke.
Rackell gritted her teeth,. She desperately wanted to turn and blast the haze away, but she was moments from cutting through the final hinge. Disrupting the laser now would waste precious time and energy.
Dodo braced himself and readied his Shadow Maw. His Character seemed to be able to counteract the black haze, but he knew its defensive properties were limited in range; it couldn't protect everyone. Fear tightened its icy grip. Were they just supposed to stand here and melt?
"Ah heck! Screw it!"
Just as Rackell was about to abandon the door and spin around to rescue her allies, a new sound tore through the chaos – a deafening, rhythmic roar unlike any Unus screech.
"BALLERINA CYKA!"
An utterly insane volume of oversized, energized bullets slammed down from above like a metallic hurricane.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
They intercepted the descending spikes mid-air; shattered them into harmless dust. The hail of bullets continued to converge on the Spike Dweller with impossible accuracy. Before the creature could even react or deploy its kinetic shield, the sheer density of fire ripped it apart. Chunks of dark carapace and ichor rained down harmlessly.
BOOM! THUD!
A heavy impact shook the ground nearby. Standing there amidst the settling dust, reloading his now slightly less oversized cannons with practiced efficiency, was Tanker Joe. He looked completely unfazed, and utterly macho.
Dodo gaped, then let out a whoop of pure relief and admiration. "YEAH! Tanker Joe! You blasted it to bits!"
Cheers erupted from the other surviving Harmonics.
Tanker Joe glared at them. "What are you celebrating for?! This ain't a karking picnic! Get back to your objective!"
CLANG! SCREECH! THUMP!
As if punctuated by his command, the final hinge of the blast door gave way. The massive metal slab tilted inwards, then crashed heavily onto the shelter floor with a deafening boom.
Dust billowed out. Beyond it, wide-eyed and terrified, stood the survivors – mostly women, children, and the elderly.
Panting heavily, Rackell deactivated her laser. She and the other Harmonics rushed inside.
"Is everyone alright? Is this all of you?"
The old woman from the intercom stepped forward. She was clutching a small child's hand. "Yes… yes, thank the Resonance. But… there's another group. They took shelter in the old Sub-Level Storage facility, beneath the West Wing ruins."
Tanker Joe strode into the shelter, his massive presence immediately calmed the frightened civilians.
"Alright, listen up! I'm Tanker Joe, Crimson Star Guild. We're getting you out of here. Stay close, follow my lead. We move now, towards the evac transport."
Hearing the name 'Crimson Star,' seeing the powerful Harmonic before them, relief washed over the survivors' faces. They eagerly gathered their meager belongings and clustered behind Tanker Joe, ready to follow him anywhere.
He turned to Rackell and the other Provisionals. "You lot – good work getting the door open. Now, your objective changes. Head to the Sub-Level Storage, West Wing ruins. Find the other survivor group, secure them, and await further instructions or escort them to the LZ if possible. Move!"
Rackell nodded acceptingly of the orders without hesitation. "You heard him! Let's go!"
With renewed purpose, Rackell's team and the other remaining Provisionals turned and headed towards the West Wing, leaving Tanker Joe to escort the first group of grateful survivors towards safety.