The attack provided a different result than Lora had anticipated, partly due to the malfunction of her thrusters; the lighter frame was shoved hard into Zone B, the torso cracking and creaking hard. A few seconds passed, and Macabre tried to regain composure... only for the whole frame to split in half at the waist, the chunks disabling as they hit the ground.

Unfortunately, Lora's own troubles were compounding. Visceral had ended up lodged in Caliburn's gut - perhaps an opportunity for a weapon, if both the Framewerk's arms were not nigh-paralyzed. That blast from the main thrusters had left them shot, and the whole body had suffered so much armor damage the harness was locking up. A quick diagnostic revealed that not even the secondary weapons system was operational, as the thruster malfunction and Diver's laser blasts had done a number on the guns.

Lora was getting a major headache. She struggled in the control harness, trying to get her poor wreck of a machine moving. A comms channel opened, and a decisively less-timid Elora spoke up: 
[color=8dc73f]"You may think I'm helpless without my friends...but you're wrong! I'll avenge my friends!"[/color]

The pilot shook her head, groaning in mild agony. [color=lightblue]"Is this how it's going to be-!?"[/color] The young lady panted out, unaware of whatever channels she had open. [color=lightblue]"I'm supposed to give it my all- fight with everything I have! I couldn't even get a chance-..."[/color] 

The laser drones opened fire on the Frame's ankles, unforgiving to Lora's drama. Ravaged and ruined, Caliburn had little capacity to avoid Diver's strategy. The right leg gave out first, and as the larger Frame tried to move away, it instead tripped and crumpled to one knee, caught in a defeated kneel. The Frame's displays were blaring red along Lora's cope of vision, and her muscles ached with strain trying to wrestle control back into Caliburn. Sweat burned down her face, her brain hurt, the sounds replaced with angry blares of the alarm...

That was the problem with Synchronization. For as long as a pilot was given complete control over their machine, so too were they given the strain of trying to control it as it fell apart. As the ratio climbed, so too did the chances that a pilot would die with their Framewerk.

Diver pulled around and took aim with its rifle. Any more damage, and Caliburn was going to be seriously crippled. Lora finally came to realize the danger, and so quickly (if ruefully) moved to pull her emergency release cord. [color=lightblue]"So be it. You win. [i]Manual override: eject[/i],"[/color] Lora firmly announced, and moments later she was pulled away from the cockpit. The back of Caliburn's neck blew open, and from it an emergency capsule was launched. 

The safety pod flew through the air like a valuable missile, before it deployed a lining of air cushions. It bounced once... twice... then grounded down to a grisly stop among the disturbed earth of Zone C. The pilot within had strains of every kind weighing upon her; carefully, gradually, she began to slow down. To control her breathing...

[i]Breathe in-... hold... breathe out... breathe in-...[/i]