[center][b][h1][color=#44F03E]𝔽[/color][color=#42E93C]𝕦[/color][color=#40E33A]𝕥[/color][color=#3EDD39]𝕚[/color][color=#3DD737]𝕝[/color][color=#3BD136]𝕚[/color][color=#39CB34]𝕥[/color][color=#38C532]𝕪[/color][color=#36BF31]:[/color] [color=#32B32E]𝕋[/color][color=#31AD2C]𝕙[/color][color=#2FA62A]𝕖[/color] [color=#2C9A27]𝔾[/color][color=#2A9426]𝕣[/color][color=#288E24]𝕖[/color][color=#268823]𝕒[/color][color=#258221]t[/color] [color=#21761E]𝔾[/color][color=#20701C]𝕒[/color][color=#1E6A1B]𝕞[/color][color=#1C6419]𝕖[/color][/h1][/b][/center]
[color=008000]
[h3]𝕆𝕝𝕕 ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕡, ℙ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟[/h3]
[b]ℕ𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟠𝕥𝕙, 𝟚𝟘𝟞𝟜   𝟙𝟡:𝟚𝟘[/b]

[b][𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕪 & 𝔻𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪], 𝔼𝕩𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘....[/b][/color]

The echoic concrete walls seemed only to compound the sounds of delirium running rampant from the firefight behind the [i]Old Rail Stop.[/i] Between screams, gunfire, and the banging of steel against steel as the kiosks were desperately forced towards the truck's compartment, it was hard to hear one's own thoughts. The sounds, however, were all drown out soon enough by the screech of tires skidding across the smooth and greasy floor of the once occupied station. Mackwell's supercar flew into view just fast enough for it to register in the Knight grunt's head before he found himself smashed by both the vehicle and the voting machine that separated them. It was clear he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon— or ever for that matter. [i]Another point to Mackwell, Cass, and Taryn.[/i]

This was the last thing the remaining Knights and worker goons needed, though. With no more [i]working[/i] machines outside of the truck, nothing stopped the driver from clambering into the vehicle while the rest of the survivors remained distracted by the gruesome scene that just unfolded before their eyes in real time. [b]"In the truck, now!"[/b] 

Those few words emanating from the truck was all it took to launch the last remaining grunt into action. The horror on his face from watching his colleague crushed by the weight of the voting machine melted into determination and he abandoned his goal to fight off their attackers. Instead, the man soon joined one of his last living friends in the truck. As Cass combatted the original driver, he took the time in her moment's respite after reaching their luxury car to launch himself into the back of the truck. The sound of its massive engine revving to life was quite the opposite of Monica's smooth thrumming of electrical energy. The machines cylinders huffed and fired sporadically as the truck shifted gears. The wheels grinded to life as the truck jolted backwards in a three point turn. 

As the Knight in the back clung to the truck's walls for dear life, he threw his other arm up to grasp at the hatch that kept him in sight of Campbell's campaign team. Their goal was becoming clear. The campaign team had to act quickly, but before they knew it the truck was speeding off. Cass jumped out from behind her cover to respond, but it was clear that she was too late. [b][color=mediumvioletred]"Delilah, catch a signal off of it!"[/color][/b] Cass's words were drowned out in the physical world by the roaring of the truck's engine as the vehicle shot towards its back alley escape route. Soon enough, though, she realized the [i]Futility[/i] of her comment altogether. Her communicator was destroyed, and all lines to Delilah from each of the team members seemed silent. [i]Had something gone wrong?[/i]

That was a less urgent question in the grand scheme of things. The crew could do little but watch as the truck began to peel away. They'd have to decide how important the voting machines were, and [i]if they could catch the fleeing vehicle in the roads of the Reclaim...[/i]