Into The Rift

Guilty As Charged (50)

AU : No, I'm not dead lol

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The valley was devastated, with scorched earth encompassing most of the terrain. Remnants of fire glowed weakly on the peripheral, lingering as smoldering red veins. At this point, Euralian return fire is none existent.

I rise up, contemplating our next course of action. A large silhouette protrudes across the open field, a fallen excavator partially buried in the trench it had carved. I pause, taking a moment to consider other options, though nothing else presented itself as a viable alternative. That vehicle was the only source of reliable cover ahead.

"On me, full tilt let's go," I point to our next bound, referencing the downed excavator to my two trotting companions.

"Covering fire!" Robert affirms, weapon already at the ready. He maintains his position on overwatch, firing in steady bursts as Douglas lurches ahead and breaks into a sprint.

I follow through, instinctively ducking low under exposed terrain. We both make it to the wreck without incident and take cover behind its toppled frame. A small wave of relief washes over me before being swept aside. With this spot secured, the former seat of human administration on New Eden is now just a scant fifty meters away and a renewed sense of determination fills me.

Douglas leans out, sneaking a peak at the enemy's position. "Not much of a line of sight from here," he says with a sharp tone. He adjusts his posture and issues a few rounds in their direction.

I glance over his shoulder and survey the area, reaching a similar conclusion. Between us and the Operations' Wing stood two prefab buildings that likely housed a contingent of the enemy's surviving forces.

Just then, Robert's voice crackles over comms. "Wait," he says, still rooted on overwatch further behind, "Got visual on a massive surge of foot traffic on the Operations' Wing, concentrated near its northern entrance."

I tense at the development, mind racing at the implications that it might mean.

"Registering the same thing on my end," Davis interjects over a stream of gunfire, "plenty of heat sigs' clustered right at that junction. Don't know what for... but I suspect a breakout attempt."

Douglas shifts back to cover, pondering through renewed chatter over comms. "Good, that's what we're aiming for," he turns around, dented visor seeking further rapport.

"Yeah," I reply, mood taking a steady decline as further observations from Turner's squad rebound on the channel, "no regrets."

I crouch against the excavator's broken tracks, leaning my weapon against the ridges as the first hostile silhouettes break into line of sight. Across the disorganized mobs, a few sigils rose to full height as the troops continue funneling out from multiple points all across Tartarus.

There was no holding back as they retreated, that was a given. Resentment and hatred fed right into each shot as the Euralians lost more of their numbers to the crossfire between us, and the troops back on the armory. The main formation remains sheltered behind a projected blue sheen, but the scant few rushing in from the outlying prefabs had no such protection.

There was only red through the scope as I capitalized on their misfortune. Each straggler killed adds fuel to the mist as I sight further targets in a continuous loop of justified retribution.

'They deserve this,' I muse with every kill, confirmed or otherwise.

"Main formation's egressing towards Eden Pass," Davis hollers over comms, relaying peripheral information as I take stock of my remaining ammunition.