[h1][color=black]-The Battlefield-[/color]
[color=yellow]Kyrie Lennis/Oath Freedom[/color][/H1]

Around five miles above Eldritch IV's surface, ace mobile suit pilot Kyrie Lennis was dodging two pairs of guided missiles like it was clockwork, the bulky and clunky munitions simply not tailored for the pursuit of of such a small mobile suit being able to skillfully access more oblique planes. Halo's of light were issued around him, halting all of his inertia and speed suddenly before pulling up in a fashion only capable by an in-human beast(for those sudden G-forces to not explode him all over the place) as the gunsteel-grey Freedom's propulsion system redirected bursts of force about his axis of gravity, that in conjunction with  his immense motor control skills allowed him to dodge out of their path, and instead direct them into each other. 

The Reign of Chaos mechs in chase of him lag pursuit style weren't so easily swayed, however, as they sprayed relatively harmless 30mm caliber bullets that dinked off of the Freedom's thick carapace-like backplate and smoothed aerodynamic helm like rubber. A single glance over his shoulder would be the last thing the fighter pilots would ever see as the black and yellow mobile suit suddenly maneuvered into a Pugachev's Cobra after deactiviating its G-limiter for precision control, causing them to overshoot him completely as his  Xiphas cannons unslid from under his arms and lined up perfectly with their tails. A fraction of a second passed between pulling the triggers and the jets being blasted out of the sky into glorified shrapnel.

From within the cockpit, imaginative planes and vector screens of digital techno-bargain flashed forth, feeding information to him as he sped off when suddenly the psi system nudged the back of his mind with an audible pinging, alerting him of various psychospiritual presences nearby, though whether he heeded the warning or not wouldn't matter. The sky bled opulescensce as a great dragon forged out of the ranks from an armored metahuman that fought against the raging blizzard that turned the planet into a recreation of Hoth just a few moments before.

The Freedom landed in the middle of the fray, beside Doomguy specifically, its various remote weapons departing from their appropriated docking panels on the freedoms back. The Fangs soared in complex vectors at hypersonic speeds, firing streams of V particles that blasted through a charging infernal creatures jaw, the slipstream catching several other legions in its path. The foldable hip-mounted Xiphas railcannons unslid and swiftly swiveled into firing position before tearing through another, creating some much needed space. In the moment of reprieve, Kyrie commanded the 13 foot mech to outstretch its hand to the fallen soldier as he scanned over those present. 

[@Frengo]
[@dirty slime]
[@Archmage MC]