The massive cannon's joints pulsed and a deep, meditative hum serenaded the turning of its enormous barreled body. Like the mechanical gears of some ages old contratpion, the very movement of which felt dangerous in a sense for all of the advancement and refinement it possessed. Legs took turns digging into dirt and turning in place before raising and digging into the ground as sliding plates half-buried the sound of whirring backup system duplicate gears beneath as its smooth body seemed to almost shift liquid-like in spite of its metal merely point its barrel at the target. The weapon leaned forward, the shadow it once cast in the absence of much of the surrounding foliage stretching now towards the cliff-edge of the mountain, near hailing the distant shape that rumbled past the treeline of the mountain opposite.

With a deep breath, the machine began its judgement. The same feeling of hyper-tension against mind and against skin permeated the air; the space of which began to bend as if exposed to extreme heat. Shapes, bodies, foliage, remains, gunship wreckage - for a moment they twisted and bent as natural boundaries became watercolour blurs, light sucking away like luminous gas in the sight of the group. It  snapped back to normal as the weapon's "exhaust" gaps seemed to both radiate and retract the very light they emanated; an azur blue that faintly shone on the area before coalescing into semi-material raw power. Ethereally resonant seals made from the very human wiring and electronics within collaborated with scielto construction materials as the fierce though restrained glow of the rune-like inscriptions lit up among the length of the weapon. 

Raw ethereal power reached the peak of its amassing pressure and in the same thunderous report that shook the mountains and the trees, imposing its anger and will upon the Envenomed and all others who traveled or hid upon the mountain, the weapon fired. The midday of the battlescarred firebase became a blinding dawn of harsh blue-white as the very muzzle flash of the weapon vanished into the void-tearing exposion. As suddenly as it came, rattling the metal of destroyed war machines and the bullet-ridden trees that overlooked them, the flash was gone and they could see the massive globe of pulsing cobalt aquamarine that soared like a cloud made of raw, pulsing, otherworldly power and mass. 

As it descended, somehow neither emitting nor absorbing light, flashes of tracers and piercing blue beams shot up from the rumbling metal shape. It some sort of large armored transport, its own weapons fire momentarily revealing it to any sort of telescopic visual capability from where the Envenomed were located - long enough to be a mobile command center and armed well enough to dissuade drones, aircraft, light vehicles but not the enormous pulsing doom that slammed into the ground to its side. A star blossomed in its wake as it expanded from a dome-shape of raw, arrogant white-blue yet the smooth sphericality of it turned into the unruly, bubbling, frothing rage of a proper explosion. Metal was silhouetted temporarily against the hellish inner blast zone, trees, people, drones - withering away, tearing apart, vanishing as a massive crater of crackling, distorting, bleeding reality manifested where it had landed. 

The Envenomed and their allies were too far to feel the neuroethereal interference it would have caused but even they could see the once blocky, multi-sectioned body of a massive command vehicle now twisted like fluids frozen amidst the crest of waves. That was all that was left, beyond teeming smears of now rapidly manifesting dwellers of the oneiric chasm, flooding into realspace to feast on the brutally deceased left in its wake and sources of raw, sparking electrical power that were left bleeding and sputtering.

Almost immediately, the League battle-lines buckled. From up top, they could see tanks abruptly pausing as their rail-cannons stopped mid-targetting. Some fired wildly, shots going wild and tearing lengthy trenches far off from the mecha and other vehicles they were targetting. Once mobile defensive positions paused abruptly, feasted upon by storms of concentrated tracer fire. Gunships circling overhead abruptly paused, uneven fluctuations in firing circles making them easy prey for quad-winged, rapidly flapping bolt-like living projectiles swarming and attaching before detonating in brusts of green, maddening fire.

A full scale retreat was in question but the weapon for all its ponderousnessness turned faster than whole battallions could run. A second massive burst nearly a minute after the first from the weapon's barrel; this time the target would not be a recipient of the mere blast itself but a direct hit. The pulsing sun, like a twitching egg-sac filled with swarming, sliding, and jittering light, descended and the impact was no less horrific. The command centre was an enormous buliding, almost like a small stadium, but it suffered horrifically from the direct strike. The ravenous blossoming of the ethereal sun swelled in size just enoguh to barely cover its curving walls, disintegrating girders and reinforced skeletal structure like burning paper, leaving them withered chunks. 

The frenches, the makeshift sub-units, and the vehicles and any infantry among them however - far less remained as the blast wave and void-borne shock slammed into them. Bodies half-vaporized, half shattered into litle symphonies of floating bone, armor, pulp and various bits of fragmenting mass rapidly converting into the unearthly mulch of the void. The metal of machinery cracked and shattered, fragmenting at joints and crumpling at reinforced points, muted explosions of munitions materializing into flourishing, frozen amalgamations of pointed blasts trapped and frozen in place before fading into blurry nothingness. 

The ground itself had fared better, kicked up and torn open, yet anything that stood upon it was not returned to dust as much as converted into unearthly, desecrated, un-matter.

All of that was hard to focus on as the rebels, bloodied and worn, raised weapons in victory - hollering, exaltation, cruel taunts, celebration. The pyroclastic extravagagnce below raising their spirits as much as it did the Front forces now storming onto the shattered lines of the enemy. 

[color=fff200][TARGET ACQUIRED. COORDINATES MARKING. DANGER CLOSE.][/color]

A third targeting reticle over their HUD's, visible only to them, just as the synthesized voice and coloured text was only perceived by them.

It was not further into the enemy lines, disorganized as they were, nor the opposite mountain top.

It was off to the sides of the battlefield - at a bunker of some sort, the road directly to it blocked off by a pair of enormous and fallen mecha League in origin.

Given the infantry seen entering its hole-punched circular structure and supply vehicles moving in around it over the crater-ridden ground, it was fair to say it was in the hands of allies.

The target marker hovered over it patiently. 

[color=f26522]"Be fast. You have company. Our allied vanguard detected a spike in raw power readings and something both armored and highly fast moving up the mountain. Do what you need to in order to eliminate the target. Very fast; we are convincing them to hold position. We cannot guarantee it will work."[/color]

The special forces team sounded... calm, oddly enough, intentionally even in spite of the fact that the Envenomed team were between two possible disasters. One of which was celebrating around them, stomping and raising fist or firearm alike. Another, little more than a report of a distant threat far off from them... but for how long?