“Aren’t you the cutest.” Aiya replies to Dana, the dark-haired girl resting her chin in her hands as she casts a winning smile at the energetic Norban. “Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong. I don’t mind sharing the spotlight.”

The girl’s chestnut gaze turns to Cordelia after, listening to the other girl’s musing with a careful gaze. “Cordy,” She says, appropriating Nicole’s nickname with not even a hint of hesitance, “You’re one of the most powerful, most important women in the world. You should enjoy it while you can.” Her lips split into a wide, almost wolfish grin at the girl’s offer. “I won’t disappoint you.” 

Craning backward after, the dark-haired girl stretches her arms overhead and remarks, as if reading Nicole’s train of thought: “We should all dance,” She suggests, musing. “Maybe I’ll arrange a celebration, if we pass our little exercise.” 

And it’s the mention of that exercise, perhaps the reminder of it, that seems to break the tranquil spell that’s settled over the group.

“We’ve got a request for assistance. Webber’s group.” Says Garnier, the boy raising his head to motion toward his fellow officers. Both Aiya and Holst abandon their perches, huddling close around the communication equipment. The speak quickly between themselves, breaking after a hurried minute and turning back to their escort.

“One of our teams has run into a problem.” Holst explains shortly. “They’re requesting our assistance. It’s about a mile out, we’ve already got a route for you. Tell you more on route.” She tosses an earpiece to each of the Ars Magi, adding: “Go fast.”

[center]
[hr]
[b][color=ed1c24]MUSIC:[/color][/b] [color=ed1c24][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv8-sEruQnw]Crawling Hostility[/url][/color]
[/center]

The Ars Magi find themselves at the mercy of the elements once more.

The route that Aiya’s squad has charted for them leads off the roof of the parking garage and on to that of a nearby building, and another after that, racing across the rubble-strewn rooftops of a long-ruined skyline. Ahead buzzes one of those triangular shaped objects that the officers had unpacked; a baseball-sized drone that leads the way. In the darkness it leaves a contrail of burning green light in its wake, a guiding beacon for the girls that follow.

Up high the wind is even more fierce, though the rain has slowed the veil of clouds has begun to part, illuminating the ruined district in the moon’s pale light. It’s still difficult to see the ground down below however, and the footing is uneasy on the shattered concrete the Ars Magi make their was across.

[url=https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/363/589/large/heng-z-03-4.jpg?1460805560]And then they see it.[/url]

It looms out of the darkness, easily three stories tall, but impossible to mistake for just another ruined building in a crumbling cityscape. It’s humanoid in shape, bipedal, two arms and two legs, though it eschews a head in exchange for a blocky central body. Its armor-plated body is gunmetal gray, illuminated by the garish red lights dotted over its massive frame. All along its frame are lined the weapons of war: machine-guns, missile pods, a dozen compartments filled with a dozen violent instruments. 

Some of those instruments are currently in use. One of its arms, a massive cannon, glows with magitech energy as it discharges into the street bellow it. The approach team of Ars Magi can see a figure tumbling and cartwheeling away from the violent impacts, weaving her way through the blasts. Priya Khatri, adorned in the red and gold of her Parma, hurls a volley of swords with every duck and weave, a hail of blades that bounce off the steel carapace of the hulking machine above her.

While the machine is distracted one Blair McKenzie, flaming claymore in hand, is sawing into one of its legs. The gash she leaves when she strikes in the metal is deep, but the punishment is immediate. A sweep of the leg flings the red-haired girl tumbling away, vanishing through a half-ruined wall into a nearby building.

Just a few hundred feet from that impact another battle is being fought, a trio of officers and a single Ars Magi pinned down by a half-dozen of the smaller drones that the group already encountered. Amanda Wagner, taking cover amidst the rubble, propels arrows of frigid ice toward the machines, the oversized shafts puncturing through metal wherever they strike. The officers, Dima Novikov and Noah Webber among them, provide supporting fire that seems nearly useless against their hulking enemies.

Things do not look like they’re going well.