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She'd done it. She'd made a cat.

Silje managed a brief glimpse of its whiskered face, the feline smile on its lips, before it all melted down into inky goo — and shot towards her. She gasped, stomach lurching so violently she feared it might jump up her throat. The world shook and spun, and then there was no world at all. Just the distinct sound of her aegis, cracking.

The next Silje knew, she was lying on her back, blinking up at a smoke-filled sky. Gerard's voice came from somewhere nearby. [i]Physically [/i]nearby. Val was there too. Silje wanted to wave at her friend and laugh at her oopsie, but her head was spinning, she felt sick, and she wasn't done mourning her cat.

Being attacked by murderous robots did make the grieving process faster, though. Silje turned her head in time to see one of the robots swinging towards her, only for Morden to intercept it with a drop kick. The robot staggered backwards. Somewhere off to the side, the rest of the squad was engaging the other robot — or so she assumed, as per Val's orders.

Speaking of, Silje hadn't really paid attention when they'd been taught how to effectively and clearly communicate on the battlefield, so all [i]she [/i]gave in response was a quick, chipper:[color=a1e1fd] "Okie!"[/color]

She stretched, pulling herself to sit. The robot Morden had kicked was difficult to look at: just behind it, a mist pocket thrummed with the intense colours of an inferno, reds and oranges and yellows.

... Hm.

[color=a1e1fd]"Mordie! Can you kick it back again? Just a teeny tiny inch, and then—"[/color]

Silje watched the red hues dance. Under her gaze, they started to crackle and expand hungrily, phantom fire waiting to be unleashed. And once the robot crossed that threshold...

[i][color=a1e1fd]"Boom."[/color][/i][/color]