The stone pillars were taller than the Anzu and allowed viable cover from most enemies. While the cross-offs and turnings were useful for a close-combat specialist, it would be difficult to find him in the first place. The only way he could be reliably destroyed was if he had missed his shot of the Archer and it still functioned, at least if its optics functioned. The chances were slim but still possible. Yeshua felt angry at himself for letting such a mistake happen. 

Driving the next slug into its chamber, the weapon began to shake and radiate a satisfying noise. It would only be a few more seconds until it was ready to be fired again. 

The massive, thundering feet of the mech tramped at the rock and ground, unsettling the Earth and destroying any chance life had of sustaining itself here. It reminded him of his home, far away now. 

[color=92278f]"I have no home."[/color] Yeshua corrected himself, remembering the awful memories of his foster family being taken away and killed with the invasion of his most recent place of occupation. He never saw them dying, but knew that the rage that was built deep within him would soon be unleashed at the enemy. It was a hot rage, fueled by the kindling of war and would not be extinguished until blood was on his hands. 

The sky became black and clouds towered over him. He was a young boy in a foreign world. Only a small backpack strapped behind him and the faceless voids pushing past were to name the first thoughts as he set foot in this strange place. Poor and overcrowded, this was the place of the refugees. They were cattle in a cage, just waiting to be destroyed. He was fortunate that his family didn't die of the crime and disease running rampant through the city, Yeshua realised. At the first automated reception gate, he was already checked for a "random search". Any young boy wearing run-down clothes and smog-covered shoes would be immediately a suspect. Women quickly put away their handbags and purses at the mere sight of him. Glares of discreet nature were shot at him by towering men but he already knew what they thought of him. Taking a plastic cup from the nearest, almost empty, water charity stand, the boy filled himself with all the chlorinated water he could. It tasted like home; fake and tasteless. He put down the drink and did a double take of his bag's contests, always making sure he hadn't been the victim of an innocent thief, when he almost lost coordination at the sight of a young girl, much the same age as himself, with vibrant hair and a face cut out of diamonds. Her eyes were needles in his spine, sharp but electric. They glowed an emerald not of this world.

Yeshua had no idea he was now in the middle of Zone A, wandering aimlessly. 

Realising how deep he was in his thought, the Anzu stopped suddenly and became prone, pointing his rifle towards Zone B. 

[color=92278f]"Damn it, I need to get my head out of the clouds."[/color] Yeshua moaned, trying to regain his composure as his now-ready weapon pointed at the area he had just left, waiting for someone to pounce.