"Contact front!" Mule's voice raised as she cried out the automatic response. Metal whacked onto concrete as the Defender collapsed forward onto one knee. Wide open eyes swept left to right, counting heads, hands. Green dots aligned before her left eye as she trained her weapon out across her shield. That was how far she'd gotten before, when a barrage of Arts had rendered the machete wielding bots inoperable. No such fortune this time. Her finger traced a straight line back. Bullets pelted the android directly ahead of her, two shots walking up its torso plate before the third tore into its head unit, a clinking rattle emanating from the entrance wound as the projectile deformed and trapped itself within the machine. It reeled back from the impact, catching and righting just in time for a fourth and fifth shot to sever a knee joint and send the android spiraling to the ground.

Mule shifted, the Zalak's tail flicking across the ground as her weapon fell onto another target, but her shot was gone. The impressive mass of the other Defender barreling into the center of the enemy line assured that. Her peripheral vision caught sight of the gauntlet wielding warrior throwing foes around in the melee, but she was already turning away and lifting. Quick steps carried her across the street surface, a few glances confirming the positions of her friendly operators. She hadn't seen the others fight, but they had an Arts specialist in the Sankta. Mule slid to a halt in front of Thrones, crouching to brace her shield into her new position. From there she picked at the sides of the enemy formation, peppering the android furthest to the left and sending sparks flying into the air alongside bits of its metal flesh.