The barking of alarm rises above the roar of active mining equipment, Marver of the Bermuda Gang screaming to the world as he emerges from one of the overhanging tents at the sound of terror.
A huge beast of a man, standing beneath the suns as he attempts to take in carnage.
Ripping one of the running gang members by the arm he speaks with an unfounded anger. “BY THE FIVE WHAT THE HELL IS…”
The armored truck sails past him tumbling end over end, a trailing wheel nearly decapitating the body as the thrown vehicle cleaves through tents and equipment. Unburnt fuel and mass impacts the active mining machine at the edge of the mining pit in a scream of crushed steel, a fireball erupting across the battlefield as ruptured tanks are set ablaze.
An encampment utterly destroyed by a single maneuver, the humanoid monster leaping across the air as it lands upon the ruins right next to Marver in a cloud of dust.
The Auditor’s eyes flare blue as observa augmentation bursts out a scan for familiar flesh in the remains of plastic tarp and broken steel, a return of emptiness ignored as she adjusts tactics to immediate threats.
The Leader of the Bermuda Gang herolds his reputation in brutal close quarters combat as he pulls a loose metal pole from the ground. With a roar of pure rage he swings wildly at the augmented creature, an improvised club aimed directly at the monster’s skull in a downward strike.
A blur barely caught by eyes of flesh, the Auditor striking air with a collapsed hand in a call to implanted technology within her arms. The entirety of Marver’s torso is dissolved into a plume of viscera with a single burst of gravimetric energy, the creature annihilating flesh down to the soul instantaneously.
An air of utter silence in carnage, a circle of souls surrounding the angular form of the augmented woman who stands from her crouched position. Eyes glow blue as machinery scans the battlefield; chaos and violence stopped for the reorientation of tactical advantages and a recreation of strategy.
Seconds pass as the confirmation of an absent Huntarus Audmotum arrives within minds, the suppression of obseva clear as the presence of several arcane items push on a projected field of augmented sight.
The breathing and heartbeat of every being surrounding her echoes within a mind of silicon and flesh; the utter panic and fear expressed in the unconscious reaction of death itself processed and understood by the monster. Like a doll she stands in utter lifelessness, divinity evident beneath the eyes of watching gods.
One of the bandits breathes in, voice projected outward in the issuance of orders to her comrades. The Leader of the Geysers hides emotion underneath a blanket of charisma and a mining mask, a singular mortal against a being of divine blood. “What are you fragging idiots doing?!! Shoot her!!!”
Wild, untrained gunfire erupts from the circle of shocked bandits, a mixture of pistol and rifle caliber rounds carving through the mining pit. Bullets snap past the form, their trajectories carrying with them a lethal crossfire that even strikes a few of their own comrades.
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Lunging with otherworldly agility the Mage repositions herself away from the killzone, a projected graviton field billowing from her form as reality itself curves in at impossible angles.
A solid wall of invisible gravimetric blades crashes into a pair of bandit workers as the monster passes them, forms severed into incomprehensible chunks of flesh as she skids to a halt thirty feet away.
Aimed gunfire attempts to reach forth towards the Mage as her form blurs from cold motions of attack, bursts of gravimetric energy arrive in vengeance to the nearly fifty five remaining souls as they all scatter for cover.
“Jen, get the magic weapons up here now!” The Geyser Leader barks at her lieutenant.
“Yes ma’am!” The reply comes quick.
In the chaos orders are dispersed, underlings scattering to tactical formation rooted in long abandoned tradition. Geyser Gang’s militaristic uniforms are utterly out of place among carnage, Samuel blinking dust out of his eyes as he filters out primary threats alongside the sibling.
In the mere opening shots of the engagement the Auditor already had eliminated the majority of Bermuda Gang’s leadership as well as several key members of the Penta Threat Raiders. However, both Geyser and Steel Front remain mostly intact as its members attempt to reorganize for a pitiful counter-attack.
Samantha speaks up, watching as Auditor Manara tears through a squad of untrained souls en masse with a huge blade of energy, arcs of gore splattering across ancient rock. “The battle is progressing as expected.”
“It is.” Samuel agrees as within augmented eyes he spots an individual sprinting through a cloud of dust, a sense triggered as the weapon with the figure’s grasp pulls a suggestion of ancient, forgotten construct. “Target: running male, height: one point seven meters, weapon: long rifle. Distance: two hundred meters, no wind. Do not fire.”
A sight aligns itself to the announced target, crosshairs tracking the movement of the unsuspecting creature. The girl blinks as she slows her breathing, a scope stabilizing alongside a heartbeat. “Holding fire.”
“Await for engagement.” The boy adds as he watches.
A fragment of divinity ready for action, barrel primed as its ice cold form remains in silence beneath the fading light of the five suns above. As if sensing conflict the device begins to activate; four lines splitting the square barrel in perpendicular arrangement pulsing with blue light. Energy flows as power incarnate awakens, the god device roaring against the chains of human control in the anguish of pure and utter rage. The application of power, barely tempered by a mind older than the divines themselves.
The young bandit trips over a corpse in his mad dash to cover, the sliced, unidentifiable body at his feet contorting in its death throes as it retches out lifeblood across his boots. A crawl to relative safety completed, situated behind a standing stone he pulls forth the arcane device in his grasp.
A rifle of ancient design, bolt action receiver unloaded and open for munitions. Sights of iron and body of plastic, simplistic smoothbore design as to not disturb the very nature of its magical effect.
Reaching into coat pockets, shaking hands take out the stripper clip of rounds. A mixture of five mismatched rifle and pistol caliber bullets stacked atop each other, bound by a single strip of metal, is slammed into the receiver block. Mass compresses impossible shapes as the mixture of rounds is easily loaded into the magical device, the bolt slammed close by human hands.
Taking aim at the augmented monster the young man grits his teeth as he maintains sightlines, the form of the Mage slowing for a single moment in an offensive action against an incoming fireteam.
Arcane weapon fired, a rifle round barely making contact with the woman’s upper torso. Tearing through woven clothing the bullet is deflected by a skin of reinforced alloy in a shower of sparks. Another round cycled into the chamber as human hands operate the crisp bolt, the reaction of the mage a blur as she kicks the air with unnatural precision.
Augmentation folded within a body of metal activates as they sense the movement, a serrated spear of gravimetric force sent forth goring the young man through the chest. Rotational force unstopped, the invisible blade tears through internal flesh. A scream is barely let out as lungs are pulverized, the body crumpling in death.