[center][h1]Talon Leader "Prism"[/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/8uR4Hv9.jpg[/img] [b][u]December 3rd, 2286 The Surface[/u][/b][/center] Discipline or fear had rooted everyone to their own small corner of the subway station, the beast before them one of the terrors of the wasteland only whispered in the safety of a settlement or far from the rad-soaked wilds. As debris went flying, peppering some with rock and trash, Prism was cursing under her breath. The man ducking and weaving was one of her own, she had recognized his voice even in panic over the radio. While he had never been one to bolt in the face of combat before, clearly everyone had a limit and he had reached his. A sudden swing of the creature's tail sent her ducking to avoid decapitation. Instead yet more tiling was rent from the wall and followed up with a terminal lifted from its anchoring to smash against another. In all her life of being a mercenary of the wastes, and in one of the more dangerous regions at that, she had never before seen anything like this. It was vicious and relentless, where most creatures had adapted to hit and run tactics, it furiously pursued her comrade. She was about to call out to him when it ended with a crack and his death. For a moment she was stunned, feeling as if she had been punched in the chest at just how sudden it was. Only when the creature was gone did she let out a shuddering exhale, slowly sliding down against the wall and just staring out at where one of her people had been. True, he had never been a "friend" in any sense of the word, and had to be convinced through a share of the loot in order to come along… But he was someone she had known. It left her shaking, though for all anyone could tell in the bulky radiation suit she was simply sitting there like a few others had been after that sonic blast. The medic speaking was what snapped her out of it, watching as the other paladin of the Brotherhood began ascending the stairs along with the others. Of all of them, only one bothered to show their respects, the foreigner from out west. At least, she assumed as much due to his accent and mannerisms. He struck her as one of those Legionnaires who had broken rank, though for what reason she couldn't tell, much less if it was true. Still, he placed a coin on the ground where her comrade had fallen and began to make his way up. She was right behind, coming up alongside and making a gesture with her hand to get his attention. "I appreciate what you did, he was one of my people and was only here because I convinced him the trip would be worth it." Speaking through the glass of her helmet, she had to raise her voice a little, the east coast accent clear as well as some minor inflections that were somewhat out of place. "Robert was… Well, one shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I'll just say he didn't deserve to go out that way. It's frustrating that we couldn't do anything, but I know if we attacked even as one, that abomination would likely be feasting on all of us." Just ahead Jeremiah turned, his armor at a slant as he paused near the top of the stairs and the acid rain poured from him. "It was the right call, though I don't think it sits well with any of us." That was all he said, giving a slight inclination of his helmet towards the both of them before continuing on. So soon into the city and having lost a member, it felt wrong, at least to her. Prism couldn't help but feel it was an omen of sorts, though she tried not to think in such superstitious ways… --- At the top they gathered, rain hissing as it cleaned off some of the tunnel debris and the dust from the minor skirmish down below. It had let up from the downpour of a moment ago, but not by much and certainly not in the acidic potency. All around them were the abandoned buildings of upper Manhattan, residences and commercial spaces left exactly as they were the day the bombs dropped. No vehicles sat on the streets, not within immediate sight and the reason was looming behind them. Inside the Necropolis they could see the makeup of the wall a little more clearly than before. Each vehicle had been placed deliberately in the spot it occupied, welded to the ones above and below, as well as to either side. Great beams of steel rose from the bottom where they were impaled into the street and all the way to the top, an eerie blue glow emanating from each. More at odds with how the exterior had been, even just a glance showed that their spacing was incredibly precise. Each space between the beams was the same. No matter how many vehicles had been collected from the streets, somehow all of them had been fit together to make one continuous path along the top. It was strange to say the least, and caught the attention of Jeremiah and Prism both as they turned to marvel at it. "It's not meant to keep things out…" It was Prism who spoke, an uneasy feeling in her gut as she stared over every detail, the city around them tuned out as she took a step towards the wall. No matter that it was perhaps a mile or so down the street, there was already a faint ring in her ears. The same tone except diluted across so long a distance, rain and absorbed into the surrounding buildings. With a slow and deliberate motion, she unholstered her pistol, training it towards the horizon and lifting it up towards the top of the wall. Jeremiah saw what she was doing and as he started to move, so too did Khaliya. "No! Stop!" This time she was too slow. Prism tensed her finger on the trigger even as Khaliya took a step towards her, the crack of her pistol ringing out across the street and then drowned out by another. It came with a flash across the sky, one brilliant above the wall where the mercenary leader had been aiming, and spreading in four directions from it as if the bullet had been a drop on a flat plane of water. Blue ripples went out across to the east and west of the impact, eventually fading into nothingness, and the lights atop the beams flared an angry red for just a moment, electricity arcing towards the bottom until once more everything was calm. Calm enough as Khaliya and Jeremiah both looked to the skies, weapons in hand and alert for the beating of wings, but they never came. Instead their attention was suddenly drawn to new arrivals coming from the direction of the bank. Looming tall in a suit of battered power armor, the colors of the Lyon's Pride stood out on both pauldrons of the leader, one who had clearly seen combat and a lot of it over a short period of time. He was joined by two others, another in power armor and one in the gear of a scout. All three Brotherhood, and by the looks of them, a squad who had been inside the city for a long time. The gunshot had alerted them to the presence of the party, and though wary at first, Khaliya recognized the man at the fore, especially as he continued the thought Prism had left unfinished. "It is meant to keep things [i]in[/i]."