[hr][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zy7V5DXUhCM]P O S T - I N F E R N O[/url][/center][center] --- CURRENT DATE -- 23/05/2047[/center][hr] Where the fuck had Spellbound gone? With the threat of imminent immolation gone, he noticed that the woman had disappeared entirely. He'd thought they'd both been safe behind the door, but... [color=7ea7d8][i]What the fuck was that?[/i][/color] Gabbie said. Her normal, electro-sensual tone had become a keening hiss. [color=7ea7d8][i]That was the last thing I'd expected coming in here. A fucking bomb?[/i][/color] ET checked the HUD in his visor. Suit integrity was intact. No holes in his suit, or in him. "I don't know what it was, Gabbie," he said. "It was smart, and it was talking to someone, but that's about it." He looked down one side of the corridor, then the other. "Any idea which way is up?" A blinking light popped up on his HUD at the same time as a message from the Tower. His breath caught. Addison KIA. "Son of a bitch," he hissed. He'd liked Addison: probably one of the few people he'd met in the last decade to feel truly genuine. Genuinely good. Genuinely dead. But two of them were alive, at least. If his files had been right, ET guessed that Stardust had pulled through as well. "All right," he sighed, setting off in the direction of the HUD light. He needed to get to higher ground. Communication with the outside world still seemed to be impossible, although the pagers were somehow working. Old tech, better tech? Who knew. "Gabbie, can we set up Iron Door Protocol?" He had a feeling that the next few weeks were going to have a lot of loud technology nearby. Iron Door was a protocol he'd designed with Gabbie a year back which transformed all the 'sentient' tech around him into background noise. He could talk to them, and ask them to do things, but they couldn't talk back unless he added them to the whitelist. Useful for silence, but a lot harder for him to convince stubborn electronics to do his evil bidding. A hysterical laugh of lightning coursed through his mind, and then IDP went live. Poor Gabbie. She'd be alright, but not for a little while yet. He didn't feel any differences yet; any electronics that had been alive in the area had been pulverized, aside from the cybernetic supers a a half-kilometer away. [i]GET TO SURFACE ASAP -- NEED TO REGROUP,[/i] He sent to the pagers, then started walking. He looked for Spellbound for a little while, but there wasn't a hint of a trace of the woman. Eventually, he kicked a piece of metal, only to watch it soar away into the setting sun. Oops. It crashed to the ground fifty feet away, and he was outside again. [color=fdc68a][i]The bossman lives![/i][/color] Dave's voice. [color=fdc68a][i]Thought you'd been toasted to hell. I saw that there missile fall, so I high-tailed it outta there until I was past the blast radius. There's someone new out there, so watch yerself. I'm sittin' out here behind a cactus 'til you're good to go.[/i][/color] Relief flooded through ET, along with a sudden craving for a drink. Dave was alive. He shook his head. Dave 2 was alive. "Rest easy, Dave," he said to himself. He wasn't talking to his car. A bang on metal interrupted his self-pity party. He turned to see the newcomer digging into the metal, and then looked left to see Stardust attacking the rubble with a vengeance. It was nice to know she cared, even if she was digging in the wrong direction. "Hey Stardust," he said, his voice magnified by Gabbie's speakers. "They're about forty feet to your left, I think." There was no mockery in the words, only business. This was not the time to fight with allies. Even the cranky ones. His shotgun slid back into his hand. He'd holstered it magnetically over his shoulder while the world caught fire, but a newcomer was a threat. Especially considering the fortuitous timing. He felt Dave rolling back up to the ridge nearby, training some very precise, very powerful riot-control cannons at the newcomer. Stun-power of the 'less-than-lethal' variety, in case his shotgun got stripped away from him. He stayed a comfortable distance from the woman: that is, the slugs in his shotgun could comfortably reach her if necessary. "Hey," he said conversationally, hefting the shotgun before him. "I'm Arbiter." He smiled, but the cold polymer-alloy of his helmet blocked the view. "Convince me you didn't have anything to do with that missile."