Whether the three women up on the roof of the office building felt they qualified as 'heavy' to Thrones or not, if one went, it was likely the all would. With the help of the gravity mage's nifty ability and a great deal of trust, Feral, Strix, and Dragoon all managed to leap from an otherwise skeleton-pulverizing height and make it back down to the ground. How much Thrones would be able to use that ability -for an entire team no less- was yet to be seen, but it certainly made for an interesting tactical capacity. God forbid the enemy try and corner them on a rooftop filled with snipers, they had an easy way out, it seemed.

Now all safely together again, they had a forward target, albeit with an approaching enemy force they'd have to get through first. Chariot bounced up and down, shaking away whatever nerves she was clinging onto. There'd be a lot of running in her future, and she wanted to warm herself up even more.

"If you've got that route picked out, Strix, just guide us frontliners, and we'll serve as the spearhead," she said. Sure enough, once they finally got going with their suitcase charge, those with swords and shields kept to the front, while their few ranged operatives held the rear. Round two corners, as the buildings grew on average taller, they came upon what would undoubtedly be their first real skirmish. If the system was ramping up, as Chariot predicted, then what stood before them seemed like a quantum leap of difficulty.

Twenty androids like the one Thrones had demolished, spread across the width of the street at the forefront, and five similar machines with one key difference: heavy armor. Thick metal plates covered the bipedal droids' limbs and chests, and while their heads seemed relatively exposed, their small size would be a difficult shot, never mind the uncertainty that such an attack would even harm the non-living units much.

To add to the veritable wall of machines were two peculiar androids behind them all; glowing purple lines and a menacing aura might have tipped off the more keen-eyed Arts-users of the squad that they were looking at walking machines capable of the very thing that made them unique.

What was worse, was the heavy presence around them that dampened their own Arts potency.

[hr]

[@Raijinslayer]

Thunderer stood beside Diver in the simulation training room, several large monitors now displaying various viewpoints surrounding the squad that fought within. They were facing down the first real challenge of the mission. A bright red statement at the top right of the camera's reflected the computer's judgement of difficulty.

[color=red][i]Difficulty Level: 4 [Average][/i][/color]

Diver was in the midst of noting down various things, while the two white-coated scientists fiddled at their laptops, managing whatever more the artificial intelligence still needed out of them. Diver spoke up, eyes still fixed on her PDA as she multi-tasked.

"Depending on their performance here, we may or may not have you jump in. We'd like to ensure they at least reach Level 6. Refrain from assuming nay leadership roles if you do go in. You might be one of our veterans, but we want to see what they can lead themselves," Diver explained, "Oh, and... We'll be putting some restrictions on you, not just to prevent Arts mishaps."