Goddesses Save The Queen

by Good Old Hoxton

After being sent by the government to explore a new land, a group of humans must attempt to stay alive in a land of monsters and goddesses. Amongst these people is a small band of plucky Brits, armed with guns, seemingly endless ammo, knowledge of nearly every obscenity in the English language, and silly accents. How will the CPUs cope? Set during the Anime timeline.

48. Virology: A Study In Bullets

The incredible hustle and bustle of the guild offices turned from the sound of people talking to the sound of applause and cheering as Jack shoved both front doors open, and strode inside. It was the first time he'd stepped into a guild since before the Tower, so the reception was…kind of inevitable, if he was being honest.

The lobby for the guild was an impressive affair; It looked like a large bank from a major city centre, clean stone floors and extravagant wood desks inlaid with small emerald ornaments. One side of the room had a number of what might be mistaken as ATMs; These machines would let you input the data for accepting or placing a quest, and would hold and dispense rewards accordingly.

The cheering and clapping did, however, subside slightly as behind him trailed a large number of men, each around his size (or taller), and all armed to the teeth with all manner of guns, blades, armour, and equipment. There were easily about forty men, all funnelling into the spacious main lobby in a line behind London. As he walked up to the front desk – which was usually empty anyway – he smiled and leaned onto it.

"Hi there," he began, looking into the eyes of a confused, starstruck, and unprepared Guild Employee, who blinked her eyes a few times in response. "I'm already a member of the guild; Got a number of lads here who're interested in joinin', and I'm happy to vouch for them." The woman, dressed in a deep green uniform that made her look like an air hostess, really didn't know what to say.

Yes, it was Jack London. That was cool. She could boast about this, later.

And that was a cowboy. And that was a knight. There was a man wearing motocross gear with a Bluetooth speaker floating around him. That man was wearing a bearskin cloak and warpaint. And was that the famous actor Nathan Fillion? Wait, she didn't know who that was. That just meant such a man was even more distinctive.

The brunette licked her lips for a second, and looked up from her glasses. "We…appreciate the gesture of finding such a number of men, Mr. London," she began, "But we're going to need to register all of them under the guild. It ensures fair payment. Leanbox law."

London shrugged, and glanced back down the line, then back at the woman behind the desk. "Yeah, that ain't an issue."

He then paused.

Oh, shit. There might be an issue.

He turned to face Nick, Will, and Tom. "You guys have citizenships, right?"

All three of them gave him a crisp shake of their heads. "Told ya, we ain't civilized folk," Nick responded calmly. "None of us 've got the basic paperwork for this place." Jack gave a blank stare, then looked down at the floor to his right slightly for a moment. The receptionist behind him tilted herself to the side to assess the length of the queue.

'Guess I'll postpone my break, then.'

"Well, cock," Jack said finally, then turned to the receptionist. "Never mind. None've these lads have any citizenships. Sorry to bother you."

She looked confused, but nodded in understanding as London turned to the men. "Lads! False alarm, you're all aliens and don't have the right paperwork!" he declared. In response, many of the men gathered groaned loudly and voiced complaints, but slowly began to funnel in with London as he made his way to the corner of the lobby, gathering the assembled men in a big cluster who made themselves at home by sitting on the floor or leaning on walls (or each other).

The receptionist shared a glance with her colleague across the room, raising a brow and shrugging. Calmly, she checked her watch, made sure nobody else needed any help, and picked up her coffee mug. In the corner of the room, she watched as dozens of the men and women surrounded London, bombarding him with complaints and questions.

'I'm gonna get the Hell to my break before any more idiots walk in.'

Meanwhile, with London…

"Whaddya mean, 'need citizenship'?" one soldier said angrily, looking up from the gathered crowd. London had taken up position on top of the base of a pillar so he could speak to all of the disenfranchised commandos.

"You're telling us we're illegal immigrants?!"

"We've been walking here for the last two and a half years, jackoff!"

Naturally, they were all pissed at being dragged out for this, and the inexplicable two-year journey just to get here, so London now had the fun job of calming them down.

"Listen, right, you need an official ID or summat to actually apply to this place," he began, trying to explain over a cacophony of voices. Many of the other people around, who weren't with the mob, just observed. "It was my mistake to not remember that, since citizenship was the first thing I got when I showed up here." The voices, which had quietened slightly to hear his explanation, raised again, and London rolled his eyes.

"Ohh, alrighty, Casanova," a Southern-accented woman quipped sarcastically, placing hands on her hips. "You get yerself tax exemption and a house for free, too?"

"I got a job!" London snapped back. "All we need to do is get you lads some citizenship application forms, and-"

"You sayin' you'd rather we don't go home?!"

The voices were now unidentifiable from the mob. London was starting to lose patience, and he rubbed his thumb and index finger across his eyes, hand on his hip as the crowd continued yelling at him. Just as he was debating drawing his gun and firing into the air to silence them, his pocket buzzed.

He raised a brow, pulling it out to check the screen. Convenient timing.

Hot Tomboy: look up

After briefly frowning and poring over his memory to figure out who he'd labelled as 'Hot Tomboy' (he knew he'd labelled IF as 'Angry Short-Shorts Shorty Shawty'), he decided to look over the crowd of still-angry soldiers to see who'd messaged him. After a moment of scanning over groups of adventurers and questseekers, his eyes finally locked with someone else's.

There, smiling and waving at him, was none other than Falcom, standing amongst a gaggle of other adventurers. London smiled back, and began muscling through the crowd to see her.

'I forgot Falcom lives and works in Leanbox. Also forgot how cute she is.'

As he approached, he heard Nick behind him, taking charge of the crowd with his dull Southern tones. He also noticed that the crowd in front of him – the one Falcom was in – seemed to be getting progressively larger. Strange. Nevertheless, he made himself subtly more presentable as he went over.

"Well, if it ain't the superstar," Falcom beamed, extending her arm out to gesture to London, with her other hand clutching the sticker-laden guitar case that held her sword. "I was wondering when you'd come back for some Guild work." Those around her in the group began excitedly murmuring as London walked over, smiling and placing his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, well, y'know how things are," he chuckled, before gesturing to the gathering mass of people. "What's goin' on here? Group expedition or summat?" Falcom nodded, putting a hand to her hip and shifting her weight as the rest of the adventurers listened in.

"Yep! Guild alerts said there's a huge spawning increase outside of the city. They put out a request for people to go and stem it before they cross into the Forza Residential regions." That said, she looked London up and down, then over at the gaggle of men and women behind him. "They…um, yours?" London nodded slowly, turning to look at them.

"Earth guys, yeah," he replied. "They ain't like those terrorists we fought, but they haven't got citizenships to apply for the Guild with. They're a bit miffed I dragged them out here." Falcom raised her head understandingly, then shrugged slowly.

"Well, uh, it's not like this event's Guild exclusive," she noted, gesturing to the amassing crowd. "A lot of the people here aren't official Guild members. And – hey – you weren't even a Guild member when you first started, right?" Jack scratched his chin, then looked back at the other soldiers.

That was a fair point.

Finally, he turned back to Falcom, slowly nodding. "Well, alright then," he said, extending a hand and looking at the group, "You guys got yourself some extra guns." Falcom grinned, eagerly shaking his hand.

"Good to have ya on board, London!" She glanced down at his hand.

'Guy's got nice hands, if you ignore the size and scarring and the fact they've got the texture of sandpaper.'

"I'll go grab the lads." Jack released his grip, gave a brief nod, and turned back to the soldiers, walking across the room. Behind him, the gathering hunting party began eagerly asking Falcom questions; How long had she known him? Was she one of the people who helped him in the tower? Were they an item? She laughed at the questions; She'd only worked with him, like, twice.

London himself, however, was sweating and blushing slightly as he walked back.

Oh, God, he really did forget how cute Falcom was.

He'd always thought there was something about her – the same kind of energy that IF radiated – except she was just…she was nice. She was never rude, she had a cute laugh, kind of boyish, and most importantly, she swung a longsword around like it was nothing.

She…she was his type.

Oh, God, she was his type.

A few hours of public transport carnage later…

After all that bullshit, it was very much clear to Jack that he owed a very sincere apology to anyone who worked in the public transport services for any Earth city, for any harsh criticisms he'd given them in the past. It was abundantly clear to him, after the shitshow of trying to organize around 100 Adventurers into a set of groups so that they could safely reach Forza Region, that people who have to put up with old cowboys and immortal Northerners deserve far more respect for dealing with Nick asking "But why don't ya take dollars?" for the thirtieth time.

Jack sighed and leaned against a tree, rubbing his eyes as he directed some commando-looking guy over towards a few blade-wielding adventurers, so he could offer fire support.

Was this what parenting felt like? Why did Nick have dollar bills from over a hundred years ago? Why did he even HAVE dollars? How did anyone get any money to pay for their travel? How co-?

"Yo. Big Guy."

London was shaken out of his train of agonising thoughts by a voice. Looking up, he was greeted by the sight of Falcom in front of him, dropping to her knees to open her guitar case and retrieve her longsword. "Oh, uh, yeah?" Jack stuttered, shaking his head clear. Falcom looked up in concern, giving the blade a slow test swing.

"You…you sure you're up for this?" she asked. "I mean, you seem…out of it, if you get what I mean." Jack nodded, waving a dismissive hand.

"Nah, I'm good for it, I'm damn good for it," he replied, finally seeing fit to draw one of his Desert Eagles and give it the once-over. "Just…already inundated with the stress of organizin' people, I suppose." Falcom whistled, calmly dropping the tip of her sword into the soil and leaning against the same tree London was next to.

"Sheesh. You really do work alone," she mused. "Don't you organize your friends?"

"We never really go huntin' together," Jack replied, scratching his chin. "Like you say, I normally just go it alone. Never ended badly for me. Small groups, I can work with, but organizin' about a hundred-and-summat people is…way more taxin' than I thought." Falcom folded her arms, nodding understandingly.

"I kinda get that." She paused to look over the crowd of Earthmen that had scattered amongst the Gamindustrians, forming a kind of defensive line across the field before them. "So…these guys, are they friends of yours, or just co-workers?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Weeeell…y'know. I mean, I've not seen most of these guys before, except James, Luke, and Josh. How long ago did you meet them?" The young woman placed her interlocked fingers behind her head, so she could lean her head against the tree comfortably. She almost thought about grabbing a piece of grass to chew on.

"Two days ago." Jack sighed.

"And they put you in charge?!" Falcom asked, stunned. Her response from the taller man was a calm nod.

"Mm. Not my idea. Apparently it was because Sigrun likes me and because I hang around the CPUs a lot."

Falcom raised a brow, once more folding her arms. "Yeah…who's Sigrun?"

"Lady Vert's mum."

"Vert has a mom?"

"Yeah. She acts like mine, more often than not."

"That's…uh…"

"Weird?"

"No, not weird…more 'cute', I guess? Unless it is a 'weird' thing. Is it a weird thing? Is that your thing?" Jack rolled his eyes, smirking as Falcom reached over and mockingly scratched behind his ears, evading his dismissive arm. "Is this your thing? Is this it? Am I right? I know I'm right, this is your thing?" At the playful assault of his head, Jack continued trying to bat away Falcom's hands to no avail, until she decided to stop of her own accord.

"So, uh, I won't pry on that," Falcom continued, straightening up again and trying to ignore the fact that a few other Guild members were watching and smiling.

'Oh Goddess, it's happening again, the rumour mill is springing to life.'

"I hope not," Jack sighed, finally giving a few clicks of his back and beginning to walk to the defensive line. Falcom followed along.

It was an impressive sight; Set across the wide field of green – said field being the suspected route of the monster hordes – there stood over a hundred Adventurers, a mix of people from his world and people from Gamindustri, split up into packs of about five or six and forming small clumps in the field. It lead to some interesting combinations and realizations.

For instance: Nick had a horse. Where he got it from, or how it got to him, Jack was absolutely unsure. Admittedly, yes, it was an absolutely awesome sight to see a few Guild members standing proud around an aged gunslinger on his black horse, but he really did have to question where it came from.

Then, of course, were his guys; Josh, Luke, and James, along with Will and Thomas, who had already integrated into the small squad of talking shit.

Along the way came more curious combinations; For instance, a team of nothing but melee users, one of whom being the ashy-white behemoth of a man from the other night, who was currently clutching a pair of tomahawk axes. It was frankly almost comedic to see him next to the tiny women and short man on his squad, who looked up in awe at his practically Zeus-like physique.

Nevertheless, the dividing was done; They had spacings arranged to have close-quarters squads attack the monsters as they approached, and long-range squads were at the back. Basic strategy; Put your ranged option further away to make the most use out of them. Then again…

Jack looked at the front squads, rejoining with his friends; Most of the 'close quarters' squads had automatic weapons. He, himself, was wielding an AA-12, and a glance to his right showed that Will had some kind of gatling-gun-rifle-hybrid.

…yyyyyyeah, this wasn't going to be pretty.

Half an hour later…

After a while, the squads had slightly broken formation to sit down in idleness, waiting for the monsters to arrive. Their suspected arrival time had long passed; If anything, the whole Guild force had shown up late, and there were still no signs of the monsters. Whilst yes, it was nice for the group to have an excuse to lounge around in the sun, soaking up rays and chatting on a beautiful green field beneath a pristine blue sky, people were very clearly getting a bit annoyed by the lack of action.

Jack and his squad – who had taken position near a tree – made use of the shade provided. Between Luke and James, there was an alarmingly large pile of cigarette butts forming, and the constant sound of scraping steel, as Thomas ran a whetstone across his sword to make the blade sharp. There was certainly a pleasant charm to it, if you ignored the fact that Will, Luke, Thomas, and James were engaged in a game of 'Who Can Spot The Biggest Pedo', one which had raged for the last twenty minutes.

As he had done before, James subtly pointed to a young, handsome man further afield; A bowman, by the looks of it, whose squad consisted of younger looking women and girls. "Him," James repeated, "He definitely touches kids. Look at him." Luke shook his head, puffing his fifth cigarette.

"Nah, too young," he began, "Too young to be-"

"Legal, yeah, that's why he picked that team," James cut in, raising a chuckle from the other men gathered. "And he uses a bow. That's already a sign he diddles them." Luke took one long drag, smiling and shaking his head as he exhaled. Just then, Will raised his finger.

"I mean, I dunno, we've all missed the main person on this field who probably likes younger partners," he said, smirking, "And it's quite obviously her." At this, his arm extended across the field, pointing towards an group of individuals who were now cresting the hill behind them. As everyone looked, Jack raised both brows, before immediately beginning to walk over, rolling his eyes at Will's comment.

On the approach and heavily armed was a small platoon of Leanboxian soldiers; However, of note about the group was that Cave was leading them…and the armoured men behind were very, very big, even reaching up to Jack's height. Shining pumpkin-orange visors and forest-green armour made for an imposing sight, with their similarity to the massive power-armoured African in the Tower making Jack feel immediately on edge. Nevertheless, the fact they followed behind Cave indicated they must have been some kind of special forces unit on par with her, so he would really just have to hope this wasn't an ambush attempt.

"Hey, Cave," Jack greeted, offering a genuine smile. Cave, on the other hand, offered no such thing.

"You said you were only going to get your men signed up for the Guild, London," she replied sternly, folding her arms and looking up at him. "The doctors said to avoid serious monster fighting." Jack was briefly taken aback, before turning to gesture to the near-century of soldiers and mercenaries that had gathered across the field.

"This ain't serious!" he said defensively, "I mean, look, we've more guns here than an American high school. I don't think a few monsters'll be tha-"

"There's more than 'a few', London," Cave interrupted, raising a hand. "It's a migratory herd. Each person you've got with you would need to kill a hundred monsters just to stop the horde." At this point, Cave paused as she observed the crowd, finally inhaling to speak. "Is, um, that a…?"

"Horse? Yep, yes it is," Jack replied firmly, placing his hands on his hips and turning to look. Nick was currently riding his horse through the crowds of people at a gentle pace, giving his steed plenty of time to soak up affection and attention from people. It was cute, until you realized that the horse would probably die in the next battle.

"…I…see…" Cave said finally, watching the large quadruped start giving one of the bowmen a friendly lick to the face, "That doesn't do much to comfort me."

"I know," Jack sighed, "But keep in mind, this is open-call Guild work. Draws all kinds."

"Yes, I'm aware, but medically, you shouldn't be doing this." Jack raised both brows and gestured to Cave, then the large soldiers behind her.

"If that's the case, ain't you on the same bill?" he asked. "Thought we were meant to be ridin' this recovery period out together, or summat." Cave sighed as he spoke, folding her muscular arms and shifting her weight.

"Yes, that was the plan," she began, "Until I get an urgent operation regarding a migratory herd that is suspected to be just about to tear through a crowd of adventurers on its' way into the Forza region. So, they asked me to lead a platoon of PERSIANs to offer support."

Jack's gaze turned to eye up the large soldiers behind Cave; Some, if not most of them, were about as tall as he was, their black undersuits rippling with muscles, and heavy body armour giving them gigantic chests of steel. Their faceless visages returned his look, many of their heads bobbing lightly as they looked him up and down.

"These're PERSIANs?" he asked finally. "I'd only ever heard the name. Like your SPARTAN program, ain't it?" Cave nodded, stepping to the side slightly.

"I'm unsure what a 'SPARTAN' is, but if you mean 'genetically modified super-soldiers', then yes."

"Huh. Not as well-armed as I was gonna expect." At this, the lead PERSIAN scoffed, folding their arms.

"I thought you'd be taller," came the female voice on the other side of the helmet, something which surprised London a reasonable amount, but not enough to save her from clapback.

"And I thought you'd be wearin' summat nice," Jack retorted sharply, gesturing to her. "Say it's a friendly hunt, you all show up wearin' half a Jeep Wrangler instead of clothes, you must be great fun at formal events."

Naturally, the women bristled slightly. Was that a challenge? Sounded like a challenge.

As a safety catch on a rifle audibly clicked off, Cave turned to her unit, glaring. "A single one of you points your weapon at London, I'll have you court-martialled and imprisoned, are we clear?" She was, from her tone of voice, absolutely serious. Jack was about to open his mouth. "And for once, London, please, just don't say anything insulting, or I'll have to subdue you."

Jack just smirked, clicking his back. "Ahhh, Cave, don't go threatenin' me with a good time," he grinned, blatant sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Swing by mine later, we'll make an evenin' out of it." It seemed, however, that the intended sarcasm escaped Cave's attention; The woman, not facing her unit, began going quite red, and the assembled superwomen behind her started chuckling.

Cave just swallowed, and closed her eyes, before giving the slightly shaky hand gesture to indicate for the PERSIAN troops to fan out around the field. The taller women all gave passing glances to London, who simply offered short eye contact with them all as they walked away to find tactical positions.

This left London with Cave, who was – by now – bright red. As a matter of fact, both were bright red in the face, London having managed to make himself uncomfortable with his own joke. "I-It was a joke, C-Cave," he finally muttered, sheepishly kicking some soil. "I don't…I…sorry." Cave rubbed her eyes briefly, and put her hand on her hip.

"It's…fine, London," she sighed, finally looking at his eyes. "Hey. Are you sure you're up for this? It is a fairly significant battle." Jack cleared his throat, and waved a dismissive hand, looking down and to the right.

"U-uh, yeah. Yeah, it's no issue," he replied, swallowing and scratching at his neck. "Just, uh, been a while since I had a fight, so…nerves're goin' by themselves." Cave offered a slightly worried look.

"I see. Well…you're certainly welcome to stick with me. If we're to fight, not building on the partnership we established in the Tower would be foolish. I thought we did rather well, as a fighting pair."

"Yeah, we did, indeed. Just…"

"Yes?"

"…are we meant to be fightin'?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, like you said, we're both probably not meant to be here. We were both told not to do any serious monster fightin' for a few months."

"It has been a month."

"A few months, Cave," Jack corrected, raising a finger. "I don't think it's a good idea to be on the frontlines right now. A few months is better than one month, I think." Cave raised a brow, folding her arms.

"But you brought these people here."

"Guild event, these guys needed experience."

"You realize Guild events are high level events?"

"They're easy as fu-wait, hold on, what?"

"They're 'easy as fuck' because you're such a high level, London. It's the same for me, and all these Guild members. Your friends are barely past the double digits, level-wise. Look."

Cave extended her graceful, gloved hand towards the crowd of Gamindustrians and Earthmen. "Do you see the level difference?"

Jack just flatly stared, giving a shrug. "Cave, I can't see levels, I told you this." She paused, then lowered her finger.

"Damn. Hmm."

"I mean, at level one, my gun put a massive bruise on Lady Black Heart's back, and Lady Green Heart's tummy." Cave raised her brow again.

"Oh, for-you shot Lady Vert?"

Jack just raised his hands defensively. "Well, no, but actually, yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because women don't fly with spears, where I'm from?"

"Right, the men instead ride horses and dress like Knights despite the advent of tanks and armour-piercing weapons."

"Well, hey, if they can use them, then-"

"If they can't use them, those men will die, which is why I advise that you order them to stay further back." Jack frowned, and turned back to the soldiers.

"Well…I could, but apparently they're comfy where they are," he noted. Cave decided to move next to him to look at the field. "And they've set up some decent MG positions, already." The redhead narrowed her eyes, stroking at her chin with a gloved hand.

He wasn't wrong; The men seemed to have done quite the job of arranging defences. Mr. Black had certainly played his part with throwing up some medical crates (the origins of which she was still yet to determine), as well as rudimentary barbed wire and sandbags. A larger man in a solid green helmet had set up a tripod-mounted machine gun, and she could see the wicked red glints of C4 signal lights spattered throughout the grass field ahead.

'Isn't that man with the machine gun one of the ones who surrendered to the Leanbox embassy after the tower…?'

Honestly?

Yes, they'd done a fairly good job.

Finally sighing through her nose, Cave glanced up at London. "So…how did you want to play your part?" she asked. "Rushing at them with all these guns firing at your back isn't a good idea, London." As she'd somewhat expected, the taller man smirked.

"Depends, what were you thinkin'?" came the slightly snarky response. "Last I checked, you prefer those big un-safety scissors." To counter, Cave simply raised a hand to chin height, and brought forth a purple flash of light to bring things from her disc. To Jack's fairly pleasant surprise, a pair of drones appeared in front of Cave – two bee/wasp-shaped robots that were about the size of an adult Eagle each. Their mechanical wings flapped with synchronized repetition, creating a light droning noise as they cut through the air and held the robots fast in front of Cave.

"I have my boys," the woman replied, smiling confidently. Jack folded his arms, smiling.

"Oh, the boys, eh?" he chuckled, assessing the drones. Almost curiously, he reached out a hand to the one nearest to him, which responded in an almost pet-like way, turning its' gaze towards his palm, then at him, then at Cave – who nodded slightly - before deciding to set itself down on his large hand, crawling slightly onto the back of his forearm and latching to a steel plate in his jacket. "Quite realistic, ain't they?"

Cave smiled, as she lightly scratched the head of the remaining machine. "Growing up, I was never allowed pets, and the SMD has a strict policy on keeping any kind of animals in the barracks – so strict, in fact, that the General herself came to question me about rumours of 'London's Pet Cougar' being kept in the RRoD barracks, even if there's no actual animal."

London raised a brow as the drone began investigating his hand, monofilament stinger waving dangerously close to his face as it did so. "What cougar? I have a cougar?"

Cave gave him a blank stare.

"…oh. Uh…right. Sorry."

"Mmhmm. Anyway, because of those rules, I opted for combat drones with artificial intelligences in them. Since I'm usually the only one in the RRoD barracks most of the time, they make lovely company." Jack nodded somewhat understandingly as the drone continued using olfactory sensors to sniff at his hand.

It had so far determined he was friendly. Further sniffing would be needed.

"That's…cute."

Cave sputtered slightly at this, going a bit red. "E-Excuse me?"

"It's cute," Jack repeated, "That you have pets. I like animals. I should get a pet, but I'll wait until I have a set place to live. It'd need to be one you're fine with, though, because you'll be stuck with it, as well." He moved his hand to lightly scratch behind the drone's head, and it responded with light head bopping to 'approve' of the scratches. Jack smiled, leaning towards it; "How we doin', mate?"

Cave was speechless at his nonchalance at calling her 'cute'. That was the first time anyone had done it to her, and the man responsible was currently playing with one of her military-grade combat drones as if it were a pet lizard sitting on him.

Beneath the warm Leanboxian sun, Cave looked at London and had her confirmation; Despite serious doubts about his mental state, his tendency for extreme violence against evil, and his rather foul mouth, it was now clear to her on a solid level that London was a good man. The fact he was so prone to just breaking into moments of pure innocence – such as playing with her 'pets' in such a nonchalant way – was simply further proof of it.

Goddesses: She almost felt rather blessed to be looking after him.

Nevertheless, they were there for a job, and Cave mentally slapped herself back into the mindset she needed to be in. Clicking her fingers to recall the drones and having them hover beside her, which prompted Jack to lower his arm as the drone he had flew away, she cleared her throat.

"V-Very well," she began, trying to maintain composure. "According to intelligence reports, the herd should be making their way through those trees in…" Cave checked the watch-face embedded in the gem mounted to her gloves, then frowned. "…about two and a half minutes, good Goddess, that was fast." Jack shrugged, finally seeing fit to draw his AA-12 from his disk again and calmly checking the action.

"I mean, you've not been here long. You sort of arrived dead-on time," he noted. The pair of them began to make their way to the front of the field. "I wouldn't make it a habit, honestly." Cave rolled her eyes, withdrawing her giant skull-scissors from what seemed like beneath her skirt.

"Yes, well, it is my job to keep an eye on you," she replied calmly, ignoring as a few of the Earth soldiers sat on the ground opted to cast a 'subtle' peek up her dress. "I can't exactly have you getting into high-risk situations all by yourself, so you can be blessed with my presence whenever you do something like this from now on."

Jack smirked at her comment as they marched past the groups of people on the field. By now, everyone else was starting to stand up and get ready, and the sporadic conversations were turning into actual barking of orders as people formed up into their positions. A set of footsteps rustled loudly to their right, as James, Luke, Will, Tom, and Josh all paced it to get over to them and join.

Jack turned to give them all a quick glance. "Thought you were all stickin' up by the tree," he mused. Luke shook his head, giving his L85 the once-over as he walked.

"Nah," the Irishman said flatly, "I'm comin' out here because I'll see the C4 better. Also, so I can tell you where to stand so you don't explode." The group finally came to a halt, and Jack rolled his eyes.

"Mate, I can see the C4," he groaned, gesturing to the field.

Luke gave a deadpan look. "You're standin' on a kilo of it right now."

Jack looked down; Indeed, his foot was resting on the beige clump of materials that comprised a large brick of plastic explosives, the bright red light clearly visible. He stared, Cave stared, everyone stared.

They opted to move about 20 feet back.

Two and a half minutes later…

Now that any idiocy with explosives was…less likely to happen, the tension in the air became a lot more thick. Talking had died down, and dozens of people of all heights stood ready with all manner of weapons pointed towards the heavy thicket of trees across the field. Despite the distance, it was clear to all that there were noises coming from those woods; Animalistic shrieking and grunting, with all the rustling you could imagine.

No doubt: This was the horde's path.

London narrowed his eyes, flipping his shotgun's safety onto the 'FA' setting and bracing it against his hip. As he drew his AK, popping that against his other hip and one-handedly pulling the charging handle to ensure it was loaded, he leaned over to Cave. "Where're your PERSIANs, again?" The shorter woman (and her pair of wasp drones) glanced at London.

"They've spread themselves as need be," she declared, "No doubt, they've prepared for this as best as they can." Jack let out a 'pfft', shaking his head slightly.

"Well, for the fact they're presumably meant to be a step below you, I'd expect 'em to be fuckin' excellent at their jobs," he replied. Cave nodded, hand twitching her scissorblade slightly to adjust her grip as the blades gave that constant crimson glow off.

"They rely heavily on bio-mechanical augmentations."

"Super-soldiers?"

"In a sense, yes. However, now I get to compare you, and the PERSIANs; From my experience I'd say you're about equal in skill and power." Jack thought on that for a moment as the monster sounds became increasingly loud.

"So…still a step below you? Christ, thanks."

Cave offered no response, but turning to look at him and giving a short wink and a smirk.

As the large gears in Jack's mind tried to crank out a witty comeback, there came an almighty crash ahead, drawing all the eyes in the area straight to the thicket across the field. Finally, as everyone had been waiting for, a number of the trees came toppling down, their trunks marked with tremendous clawmarks and evidence of force. Standing where the trees once stood, however, was the hulking form of an Ancient Dragon, his feet practically swamped by smaller monsters; Dogoos, Pixelvaders, Froggies, Bomb-urais, Kupkitties, and even a few Horsebirds.

The horde of monsters seemed to go far back into the forest, with their ranks bolstered from behind with more looming shapes in the dark woods. The monsters assembled, however, were dead focused ahead, as much of a batch of strays as they were; They wanted to keep going in a straight line, towards that nice housing development area about two miles behind the adventurers in front of them. That'd make a fine breeding ground, and there might even be food there. With their pseudo-leader, the Ancient Dragon, taking point, the swarm began to slowly advance out of the forest, some of them having to climb over the set of fallen trees that had recently hit the ground.

Jack opened his mouth to speak.

"Что это, черт побери, такое ?! Убить их всех!"

Jack closed his mouth and looked to his left, as the loud rattling of a group of automatic weapons began to ring out, followed by – gradually, over the course of three seconds – just about every single gun on their side of the field opening fire, creating an absolutely ear-shattering cacophony of micro explosions. Tracer rounds seared over Jack's head, and his largely untrimmed hair flowed like crazy at the rushing shockwaves, and shook from the recoil of his AA-12 as he, too, began firing at the monsters.

As he did so, however, with Cave's drones blasting lasers across the field, he was no doubt a bit annoyed.

"Fuckin' Indonesians," he muttered, clearly not knowing what fucking language they'd just spoken, and jolting the AA-12 to his right. At this range, the shells weren't quite as hard-hitting as he'd hoped, but he could certainly tell what was being hit, even amongst the horde; Individual, smaller monsters visibly flinched as if being smacked with a fist of lead, knocking back into their comrades, and weaker monsters just straight-up died on receipt of the buckshot.

The area continued to roar with all manner of firearms and weapons for a good twenty or so seconds, with the swarm of beasts ahead of them progressively thinning out under the hailstorm of bullets, arrows, and what Jack was sure were fireballs and lasers. Eventually, however, it became apparent, as unfortunate as it was; The horde was replacing its' back lines, and the orchestra of smokeless powder was struggling to kill them all fast enough. If anything, the damage from so many low-level adventurers was…making them angry.

Jack briefly stopped firing, fully turning his gaze to the larger monsters in the middle of the crowd. "Oh, SHIT," he said as loud as possible. A few people near him seemed to turn their attention to the Ancient Dragon and its' slightly smaller subordinates, but otherwise, the hail of bullets continued over their heads.

See, to explain, before I continue, a common error made by adventurers is to underestimate what happens when you start putting monsters into dangerous situations, or when you start making them realize they're in a position where they could die. Every beast in Gamindustri – from the weakest Dogoo to the most powerful World Bosses – has an ace card, genetically programmed into them at the moment they spawn, seemingly under the pretence of turning even the most miserable little turd of a Dogoo into a genuine threat.

That card was called 'Going Viral', and the gigantic fuck-off Ancient Dragon in the middle of the crowd had decided that instead of eating a ton of lead, it was going to start mutating into something far worse to even the odds levelled against it.

From such a distance, it was difficult to tell exactly what the Dragon was doing – whether it was recoiling in agony or succumbing to its' injuries – but it soon became clear to everyone launching a barrage of tracer rounds that they…were starting to bounce off. At first, one or two – possibly just badly angled shots - but as the Dragon began twitching more uncontrollably, those few deflected rounds became half of all the rounds, then almost all of the rounds being fired.

Within a few seconds, as the Ancient Dragon dropped to all four, releasing an earth-shaking screech of agony, and tremendous pink spikes began wrenching out of its' now darkening hide, all the gunfire directed towards it, and eventually, everyone noticed that there wasn't any blood on impact; There were sparks, as the bullets slammed into a nearly steel-like hide, titanium-tough teeth, and a blisteringly furious set of eyes on the increasingly tall monster.

As it finally stopped mutating – with the other large monsters still halfway through their transformations – the Ancient Dragon slowly unfurled itself into an upright position, the shade of its' scales now an oily black, and its' head now completely above the treeline. Within a matter of moments, it had gone from about 10ft tall, to 20ft tall, the lizard-like appearance and animalistic growls swapped out in favour of a damn-near demonic form and a roar that shook the field.

On the plus side, London noted, as the entire crowd of Guild Fighters began packing up to retreat further back, it was now clearly not caring about its' allies; The Viral Dragon was spasming, twitching, kicking its' smaller comrades, finally letting loose a gout of cobalt flames across the floor that incinerated an alarmingly large chunk of the horde, before it sent an impossibly long pillar of blue fire straight into the sky with an almighty shriek. The air crackled with an intense energy, and the floor was already shaking, even before it had start to stomp towards the Guild once more.

Behind it, a pair of other large monsters started to mimic its' actions; A Fenrir, and a large spider-like drone. Both began to convulse and develop jagged spikes of bone and steel, but the bigger problem was currently – rapidly – stomping on its' comrades as it marched forwards towards the Guild's frontline. The assault was slowing down rapidly, less and less attacks being made by the second as people turned to escape the rampaging giant.

Except, of course, a few sources; A few soldiers; A few of the more foolhardy; And almost certainly a few of the men from Earth, all of whom decided to run towards the fire. It wasn't necessarily their first choice, but Cave was trying to keep up with London, the PERSIANs were trying to follow Cave, Nick wanted in on it, and most of the other Earth humans didn't want to get outdone by some old guy on a horse.

Cave, naturally, was not happy with the recklessness, or the fact she was struggling to keep up with London's pace. It made her doubly annoyed that her platoon decided to run past her, too, the genetically-superior women practically motoring beyond her own pace towards the giant.

When they came level with London in terms of speed, it was practically a wall of green warriors, all of them with guns levelled towards the huge dragon that was shattering the earth with each step. One of the PERSIANs – the one right beside London – turned her head slightly.

"Let's see if you're everything they say you are, old man!" she barked to him, before putting a finger to her ear. "Second Unit; Hook Left; Pincer Formation; Bearing of Three-Forty-Three!"

At this, the six troops that were originally to London's left peeled off, making a wide arc around the dragon and immediately opening fire. Whilst the rounds hardly did anything to it, it was enough to piss the monster off; Its' monstrous gaze turned to its' current attackers, and it stopped to adjust its' position to face them. The lead PERSIAN once more barked orders, before she – along with the remainder of her troops began to head to the rear of the monster, arcing to the right.

Despite their advantage, it was of note that the PERSIANs were keeping about 50ft between themselves and the monster. Jack ignored them; He continued straight towards the Dragon, raising his AA-12 to waist height and beginning his own barrage of shells. The gap closed quickly, and the Dragon's attention turned to him just as fast, recoiling slightly at the smattering of pellets crashing against its' hide.

As London got near, the monster very suddenly swept its' spike-encrusted right leg towards him, tearing up pieces of the soil as it screamed towards him. London's eyes widened, and he practically put his heel through the dirt as he moved to stop himself, also sticking his arm out; Had he not, Cave – who was running just behind him – would have gone straight into its' path and been hit with a rather nasty looking strike.

Yes, she hit his armguard with her face; Yes, she would complain later; Yes, London was gonna feel bad. But she wasn't hit by the Dragon.

There was no time to lose; Rounds began to spatter off the Dragon's hide rhythmically, as the Earth troops, more foolhardy Guild workers, and PERSIAN soldiers all began pumping shots towards the behemoth, giving London and Cave enough time to –

"Down!" Cave barked, very suddenly leg-sweeping the back of London's knees. He grunted in surprise, barely holding balance like someone from The Matrix, whilst Cave crouched just as low as he was leaning. Before he could ask why, his answer came, as the Dragon's massive spiked tail whipped past his face, the tips of one spike delivering a fairly nasty cut across his cheek. However, it didn't go deep, and instead carried on past him, with the Dragon immediately beginning to approach some of the PERSIANs, instead.

With the brief respite, London finally lost balance, and landed on his back with a fairly audible clanking of armour plates, and a groan. He winced slightly, running two fingers across his cheek, and letting his head drop back as he identified trace amounts of blood on his fingertips.

"I swear, I'm already gettin' too old for this shit…" he sighed. A moment later, a silhouette appeared above him.

"Lying down, already?" Cave asked, almost mockingly. "You'll disappoint someone one day, with stamina like that." Jack chuckled, graciously accepting the hand that Cave offered to get him to his feet and once more towering over her.

"You're getting' better at this 'bein' funny' thing," he mused, looking at his companion and swapping out the AA-12 for the pair of Matebas. "When this is over, I'll take you to Stockton. Big comedy town." Cave smirked, then her gaze seemed to harden slightly, turning her head towards the other two monsters…which were now preparing to join the fight, along with a lot of smaller creatures.

Whilst the Viral Giant Fenrir was already occupied – a certain old man on a horse firing a shotgun at it and throwing a lasso around its' muzzle with clear experience – the massive Spider Drone looked more akin to something out of Terminator: A hulking mass of steel, almost painted a shadowy matte black, with its' upper body now sporting a pair of chainguns on either side of its' frame and a single, glowing red eye.

That, and the fact it was double the height of both London and Cave meant that it immediately had a height advantage, standing tall on tree-trunk-like spikes for legs. Pieces of its' frame were warped to make room for huge, rusting spikes that tore from some body panels, mostly in places where it could easily body-charge a victim and impale them.

London had changed his mind.

"Yeeeah…these won't do…" he murmured, slotting the Matebas away again and instead deciding to pull out his Double-Barrel, slotting in two High-Explosive shells and snapping it shut. He looked at Cave, who seemed to be offering quiet instructions to her Wasp drones, which hovered steadily by her head. "You ready?"

"Certainly," she replied. A green flash ensued; Cave's left hand was suddenly holding a rather sizeable pistol, vaguely similar to something from a sci-fi movie, but the ejection port's small size indicated it was probably more like a machine pistol than a laser. That, and the colour scheme quite closely matched Cave's outfit; It was probably her own personal weapon; One Jack had never seen before.

"Christ, had no idea you carried a gun," he mused. Cave gave him a deadpan look; One of the drones also turned its' tiny head to look at him.

"I thought working close protection and carrying a gun were kind of expected, London."

"That…is true."

"Granted, at this point, we work more like a fighting pair, as opposed to me bodyguarding you," Cave continued, levelling the pistol towards the giant robot. "Flank right?"

"Got it, I'll take left," London nodded.

Just as the giant spider raised both forelegs to slam them down as a method of intimidation, it was instead met by a sudden, sharp force against its' front, as a pair of High-Explosive shells simultaneously slammed against it, detonating like mini grenades.

The beast stumbled at the attack, and took a few seconds to register that it was also being shot from the right. What felt like a machine gun was hammering against its' joints, jamming the servos for the briefest moment after a good hit. The Spider activated its' auxiliary cameras to find the machine gun post.

It got a glimpse of Cave and her three wasps, circling it and firing fast enough that-

Another set of explosive rounds, this time to the side opposite, jerking its' frame to the left as it received the shells and stabilized itself.

Now the system was confused; Which side was more of a problem?

Viral Drones often suffer in a single department; Advanced processing capability usually has the risk of BSoD'ing a Drone, which they avoid, because in technical terms, it's like suffering a massive lethal stroke. As such, it was natural for the hulking Spider Tank to be struggling to decide its' tactical options.

As the metal monster began jerking left and right, cannon on top beginning to fire random shots, Jack and Cave finally caught sight of each other on the opposite end of the tank. Their eyes met, and they realized a problem: They'd barely scratched the thing. Granted, their combined efforts had boggled the shit out of the Spider, and it was probably gonna have to recalibrate itself, but…yeah, in terms of hurting it, they'd achieved nothing.

The two of them reconvened at the back of the machine, keeping eyes peeled for nearby small fry enemies as they spoke. "That was far less cool than I was expectin'," Jack noted, exhaling slightly to catch his breath. Mentally, he searched his disk for something that could pierce heavy armour, and was currently coming up short of options. Cave straightened her skirt slightly and clicked her knees, frowning.

"Do we have no anti-armour options?" she asked. Jack shrugged.

"I mean, we have James, who right now…is…aaaaall the way over there."

Cave and Jack turned their eyes towards the mob of adventurers – only a few of which were daring to run into the fray – and scanned through the mob, finally picking out the armoured form of James; Currently standing atop a pile of sandbags, cracking off shots at random monsters like nobody's business with his mighty AWP rifle booming to signify another dead beast every second or so.

"What about your rocket launcher?" Cave asked. Jack shook his head.

"Surprisin'ly, it fucks up stone, can't deal with armour," he replied. Cave raised a brow.

"Really?"

"Yep. It's why they ain't sold to the military."

"Blast. Then we…oh, Goddess, I don't know."

Jack raised a brow. Cave normally had ideas. He inhaled slowly, putting a hand up to scratch his head.

He yanked his hand back immediately, however; Between the pair came a thunderous galloping, as Nick – astride his horse – tore between Jack and Cave. Both stumbled back slightly as the large black mare charged through, Nick standing slightly in the stirrups as his path took him right towards the giant enemy spider.

"KEEP IT ON, JENNY! HAH!"

The old man's voice rung out clear, excited, as he tore towards a sentient tower of steel and anger.

Jack turned sharply to see what the Hell he was doing; In Nick's hand, a length of rope, being twirled above his head; On his face, a grin, and no fear.

Jack lowered his gun slightly in exasperation. "Oh, there's no way he's doin' what I-"

"IIIIII think he is," Cave cut in, before tilting slightly towards London. "Should we…um, you know…?"

"Help?"

"Um…well, maybe, but I was thinking we may wish to go and grab others to help us."

London seemed to think on Cave's words for a moment, then finally shook his head, drawing the Chainsaw from his disk. "Nah, I think we got this. Can you draw its' fire on the other side?"

Cave gave an almost incredulous stare, and one of her Wasp drones tilted its' head as if it didn't quite understand if this was that 'sarcasm' thing it had been downloading files about. Was this man being serious?

"I wouldn't suggest we do what you're suggesting we do," Cave replied almost sternly. "Keeping distance is the best way to ensure we recover properly."

"Nah, it'll be easy. In and out."

As Cave sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, the audible sounds of the giant spider emitting garbled, deep mechanical noises came clear; Casting a glance over, Nick had wrapped a piece of his (unusually strong) rope around one of the machine's legs, and was trying to AT-AT the thing by riding in circles around it, the rope beginning to pull its' legs ever tighter together. As it tried to get a bead on Nick – hampered visibly by its' attempts to stabilize its' shooting – the upper half of the giant robot twitched and rotated violently, trying to lock its' aim onto the –

There came a VERY audible crunch.

The rotation on the machine suddenly stopped, and it began…toppling?

London and Cave raised their weapons towards the beast, Cave taking up an almost Olympian stance with her pistol whilst London stood revving his chainsaw's motor repeatedly. As the spider began flailing, beginning to tilt, London noticed something.

"The legs…" he mused, before looking up at the rest of it. "It just broke its' own back."

London was right; Nick, whooping and hollering astride his horse, had managed to trick the machine into spinning free of its' rotation bearings, snapping some presumably important piece inside that immediately rendered the legs immobile, disconnected, and useless. Whether the old man knew, or cared, was still up in the air.

As the giant machine finally toppled from its' legs, crashing weightily into the ground and lying still, its' guns continued firing for a moment. On impact, however, the tipping prompted the whole machine to land on one side, bending one of the miniguns on its' arm towards its' own chin. It didn't manage to stop firing fast enough to prevent shooting itself through its' own 'chin', prompting a burst of sparks, piercing electronic whine, and silence as it stopped firing and lost all power. London and Cave both gave each other a glance. They were silent.

"We just got shown up," they both said, simultaneously admitting defeat. The two sighed, almost in sync, as Nick rode up astride his horse. The mare reared up victoriously; Were it a Western, there'd no doubt be a triumphant guitar and trumpet score over the back of the loud whinnying of the horse.

The horse, after a moment, clomped its' forehooves back down onto the Earth, and Nick steadied himself, smirking at them.

"Well, shit, you two was doin' that one?" he asked sarcastically, twitching his moustache. "Call it a hunch, but you young 'uns prolly tried killin' the thing with yer fancy lasers 'n' missiles 'n' whatnot, right?"

Cave folded her arms, unable to avoid smiling slightly at the older gentleman. "Military-grade equipment, yes." She looked over at the crumpled, twitching mass of a slowly disintegrating mechanical spider, and then back at Nick. "However, I'd be lying if I said wasn't impressed, Mr….?"

Nick smiled further, and doffed his stetson to her, revealing a surprisingly full head of white hair.

"Nick Bones, ma'am, at yer service."

As Jack watched on with a raised brow, Cave offered a respectful nod. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Bones."

Just as the two were about to have a further discussion, the almighty, earth-shattering roar of the Viral Dragon behind them hit just a little louder than it had the previous few times, catching the trio's attention.

The monster – now etched with countless open wounds and blast marks - released a huge blast of nitro-blue flame from its' maw, catching a few of the PERSIANs in its' heat. Whilst their armour saved them, it became obvious a second or two after the attack that their HP was dangerously low; A few of the women caught in the attack flopped limply onto the floor with an almighty crash of metal plating, as the others were caught between backing off or helping their comrades.

London narrowed his eyes, once more drawing his Minigun from his disk, and Cave's drones returned to her side. Nick hooked his rope onto the saddle, and drew a very old-looking Single Action Army from a tired leather holster on his hip. All three began a moderately fast approach to the monster, Nick's horse keeping pace with them as they moved.

"Nick, take the left and distract it," Jack commanded. The older man didn't argue: His response of 'GIT, JENNY!', a yank of the reins, and the black mare suddenly breaking into a gallop indicated that he agreed. London looked to Cave, and nodded.

The two were already in sync with their plan. As they both approached, London unleashed a buzz of gunfire straight into the dragon's face the moment he saw it, the bullets ripping off chunks of flesh and ricocheting off the bone. The beast flinched, and snapped its' head towards them, wild-eyed and beyond fucking furious.

London laid off the trigger, and halted, raising an arm above his head. "Cave!"

"On it!"

Cave moved with the grace of a gazelle, launching into a jump, then using London's minigun as a step, before reaching his hand and stepping from that, too, London exerting slightly to push her up further and faster. Her drones followed in tight formation around Cave as she soared higher and higher. As she managed to reach the height necessary – an almost incredible twenty feet in the air – she faced the dragon, aimed her pistol at it, and squinted.

"Protocol; Incinerate."

The drones needed no further instruction.

To accompany the small woman's burst of gunfire, pushing her semi-auto's rate of fire to the limits of what it could physically fire at, the wasp drones around her let out a sound of acknowledgement, and jutted their thorax sections forward in perfect synchronisation. From their stingers came a torrent; A spray of laser fire and light that could have put an overpriced EDM concert to shame, and it was all directed to the colossal beast in front of Cave. The air cracked and warped as intense energy blasted from three sources, and as it struck the dragon, the intense smell of blistering meat suddenly filled the air, followed by the smell of burning bone.

The Dragon raised a claw to shield itself from the heat, only serving to bring the damage to its' chest, ribs, neck, and the bottom of its' arm, both of the ragged black wings on its' back just burning away altogether. It screeched in agony, stumbling backwards, massive feet crushing the ground as it moved, and tail swinging wildly. A few PERSIAN troopers nearby were forced to dive swiftly out of the way, as the malformed, spiked tail began lacerating the ground where they once stood.

Nick, meanwhile, galloped past astride his horse, levelling his six-gun for a moment to let loose a single, smoke-filled blast from it that pinged straight into one of the Dragon's many eyes, which were already engulfed in plasma. Sure as sunrise; Amongst the sizzling of flesh being struck by Cave's attack, there came an alarmingly audible 'pop' as one of the beast's eyes simply burst like a gore-filled water balloon, with a sickening purple ooze coming from the socket and caramelizing instantly under the heat.

Naturally, as Cave dropped down, and everyone continued firing, the Viral Dragon did exactly what one might expect a cornered apex predator to do: It somehow, despite all limits, got even more fucking furious. After trying to check its' eye, and finding nothing, the beast – wracked in pain – put forth an ear-shattering scream of rage, blue fire ripping from its' maw and spraying wildly in all directions, as it began to flail and thrash even more violently.

Usually, a monster would only target one or two people at a time; As of current, in its' Viral, damaged, and enraged state, the Ancient Dragon had decided it didn't give a fuck anymore: EVERYONE gets to die. The people, those stupid other monsters, itself, who gives a shit? Kill everything.

Narrowly dodging a searing ray of cobalt fire that turned the dirt where she once was into glass, the lead PERSIAN – identifiable by her different helmet – raised her rifle, and made a gesture.

"ALL UNITS!" she barked, beginning to pick up a wounded comrade, "BROKEN ARROW ACTIVE! FALL BACK! FALL BACK!" Sure enough, one by one, London noticed the PERSIANs beginning to turn tail and get some distance between themselves and the rampaging giant. The armoured women were more than capable of simply splattering the stray Dogoos and Pixelvaders just by standing on them as they ran; One, London noticed, even saw fit to pause running just to pull off a fairly flashy knife kill on a stray Otaku that had been roaming the field.

Whilst an Otaku is not human – more accurately, a breed of shapeshifting lizard that has somehow evolved to mimic the below-standard obese Gamindustrian male – it did offer London some alarming insight as to how quickly a PERSIAN supersoldier could kill a man. The armoured woman swept around, kneeing the creature in the spine as she did, then threw it backwards onto her waiting knee, and slammed a knife straight down into its' face. The Otaku jerked, hissing, then immediately lay still, beginning to de-render. The whole process barely took three or four seconds.

London grimaced slightly, still firing at the Dragon.

'Those girls're really summat not to mess with…'

London and Cave weren't doing too badly at dodging the laser-like beams of heat, dipping and weaving and jumping over them as they came from the beast's maw, guiding its' attacks to burn through bigger crowds of monsters.

But that was them.

"Jenny! Easy, girl!"

London's attention was caught by Nick. He looked over, watching his horse bucking slightly as smaller monsters surrounded it. He was shooting down into them, wafts of choking black gunsmoke pouring from his revolvers every time. However, he didn't catch behind him, and London called out too late.

A Fenrir managed to get a good scratch on Jenny's left flank. Whilst London couldn't make out any blood, the result was immediate; Jenny reared up, Nick struggling to keep balance with two pistols in hand. The horse jerked, and the cowboy fell from it, Jenny frantically jumping about and finally galloping away at speed.

London acted as fast as possible. "CAVE, NICK'S IN TROUBLE!"

She whipped her head around to look, and grimaced. "Get him out of there before he's overwhelmed, London!" Cave yelled. Her hands made a graceful movement to drop a single pistol into her disk, drawing her glistening crimson scissors. The blades sparked into life and she swung upwards, not even looking at the Fenrir lunging towards her, as the twin blades put a mighty gash through its' face, sending it spiralling and scrambling backwards. A rattle of gunfire from across the field rang out louder than the rest, and the beast jerkily danced to the bullets' tune, finally dropping dead on the ground with a whimper.

London nodded, and started rushing to the horde surrounding Nick, now standing and shooting down at them. Easily a hundred or so, just there, and of all kinds, so he just had to move in and get to him, no big dea-

Another ear-shattering roar, and the sound of crackling air rang out. London's eyes closed by reflex.

In front of him, a gout of hellfire from the viral dragon blasted where Nick was. The monsters nearby practically fizzled to ash instantly; The sound of the old man yelling in agony came clear. By the time the dragon was finished, it was just a crater glowing orange.

London ground to a halt, gasping.

A bit of combat nearby halted to stare at…oh, Goddess. They'd just seen someone die.

Cave rushed over to London, chopping through monsters, but only slowed to stand beside him. "London, is…he's…he's gone."

The sight before them was like a monument to a tragedy. A smouldering crater, still sizzling from the dragonfire. In the center, shielding himself in a last desperate act, was naught but a skeleton, tightly clutching a pair of sixguns which remained surprisingly intact. With the way it stood, it was obvious the bones had melted together, turning his death into a still scene from a horror movie.

London's jaw trembled slightly. "…I…but…but…"

Cave looked at him, and sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder in a somewhat comforting manner.

"There…was nothing you could do, London."

He glanced back at her, then to where Nick's remains still stood, and finally sighed. "…fuck me…"

Cave grimaced, patting him for a moment as he collected himself for a moment.

'Just what he needs to help him recover: The death of an ally. Goddess, this was a bad idea.'

London's face remained worried for a moment, but hardened immediately upon hearing the roar of the Ancient Dragon break out again. The creature seemed to be taking a moment to inspect the eye injury it had received, with a lull in people attacking it due to its' murder of Nick Bones – now ironically just a skeleton.

London's fists tightened around the minigun's foregrip and handle, and he grit his teeth, face now painting an expression of rage. He spun on the spot, swinging the minigun to bear, and without adieu, began holding the trigger. Once more, the deafening buzz of gunfire rang out from the weapon, lighting the area up in a dazzling show of golden muzzleflash, and Cave visibly winced at the volume of the gunfire, and some of the words coming out of London's mouth.

'A-At least he's motivated, again.'

For the sake of not offending too many sensibilities, London's dialogue won't be written here, even as he marched towards the Ancient Dragon, blasting it with an untold number of bullets and absolutely obscene words that'd have even a rock star stop and suck air through their teeth. Hot metal screamed from the minigun's jaws, beginning to engrave the Ancient Dragon's hardened skin with thousands of dents and holes, and it let out the first pained growl in a while, shielding what remained of its' face with a hand.

Said hand wasn't doing too well, either; As it took the defensive stance, London adjusted the minigun's firing trajectory and began to focus down the beast's wrist. Sure enough, as the seconds went on, it became clear what his plan was.

Cave's eyes widened, and she shook herself out of her slight stupor, focusing herself and joining in. Her little wasp drones fired where she did – the dragon's left wrist – and now the flesh wasn't just being torn, but cooked. The Ancient Dragon wasn't having a good time, here. As London and Cave opened up, everyone else opened up – nearly a hundred guns finally working as one to bring the monster down.

It screamed, it thrashed, it roared; Every final ditch effort it could make to preserve itself. It couldn't move anywhere without lead tearing it to pieces. It couldn't move its' hand or the face would be torn asunder.

For the twenty foot beast, there was only one final option besides simply dying.

Damaged cracks in the dragon's flesh began to glow blue, light starting to pour from every orifice. Whilst not dazzling, it was clear to everyone that it was doing something. One of the PERSIANs – the leader from earlier – finally ran up beside London and Cave, opening fire on it.

"It's gonna use a wipe attack!" she barked. "Commander, get back!"

"Then we stop it! A hundred people might die here!" Cave snapped, continuing to fire. "Captain, have your sharpshooters ready to aim for the mouth!"

The armoured woman's face was obscured by a visor. However, even through his mind-warping fury and focus on the beast before him, London was damn sure that Cave's subordinate was glaring at her. Cave got the same message, and turned to glare back.

"NOW, Ballandes!" she yelled. The PERSIAN flinched slightly, and finally nodded, turning and jogging away, finger on her earpiece. Cave looked at London. "When this thing opens its' mouth, you need to shoot it down the throat. If you don't, we all die, you understand?"

"Got it!" London replied, squinting slightly over the sound of gunfire. "What about the eyes?"

"Ignore the eyes! Nobody could hit all of them fast enough to blind it before it attacks!"

The monster had lowered its' hands by now, simply receiving all the attacks and hunching over, rocking and flinching and twitching with every new impact it took. Every new hole or slice in its' body now shone cobalt blue, and the sound of something humming became apparent, pulsing and becoming louder, deeper, and more ominous. The beast's eyes begin to glow with a terrifying blue light that only grew brighter with each passing second.

Bullets were bouncing from scales; Explosives were bashing joints; The mutated jumble of badly-grown teeth were shattering in a hail of projectiles as a century of people hammered the Viral Ancient Dragon with attacks, anything for it to just die, before it unleashed an attack that could – levels be damned – incinerate every living thing in the area.

Cave swallowed, pistols and drones producing a stunning show.

'This might be it.'

As the seconds ticked on, eventually, the same PERSIAN from before lowers her rifle. "Enough of this shit!" she snapped, before putting two fingers to the side of her helmet. There came the light receipt of a megaphone coming into life, and she spoke again. "EVERYONE IN THE AREA, CLEAR ON OUT! IT'S GONNA BLOW!"

And – just as soon as she said that – almost all of the gunfire broke off into a small smattering of strays and yelling, as everyone in the area, Guildie or soldier or Project trooper alike, turned to begin running. The beast before them stood twitching as energy continued building to an apex, almost too bright to look at, but the gaze of the monster was sticking to the fleeing crowd.

With lurching movements, as if death had already claimed it and it moved only on instinct, the Ancient Dragon shifted, taking an agonizing step forward, almost carrying a synthesized scream of corrupted rage as it did…and another…and another…

London looked back to it as he ran, Cave close beside him.

"The cunt's followin' us!"

"I know! Just keep running, London!"

The gunfire was gone; Only screaming and rushing footsteps, intermittently punctuated by the hulking, uneven stomps of the mutant lizard following them, practically burned out by that point.

The edge of the field loomed; The PERSIANs were currently just throwing people over the hedge by the scruff of their necks, displaying very impressive strength. Other people were trying to vault the hedge themselves; Will was busy trying to bury Brad under a pile of soil so that he'd survive whatever was about to happen; Cave was going at full pelt to aid in the evacuation…

…and London had stopped, turned face, and continued firing into the Dragon's face with his AK, munitions scraping from scales. It was hard to tell who was yelling louder; Cave, screaming at him to just run, London telling her he's buying people time, the PERSIANs insisting Cave just leave him, or the Dragon preparing to utterly melt him into glass.

London's eyes stung from the blistering heat of gunfire, the blinding lights of the dragon, and his own anger. The Kalashnikov's rhythmic firing was making one Hell of a crescendo as the huge beast lumbered ever-closer, both to him and those standing behind him. To his credit – and Cave's horror – the Dragon had turned its' attention to look at the lone gunman standing before it, slowing slightly. More people were getting out; He'd bought them a few good seconds.

'This isn't how these people die. Him or me.'

The Dragon was furious. Letting out a lopsided roar that gave way into a wheeze and crackle of energy, it made a wild swipe upwards; A lash of energy leapt from the claws of the monster, leaping towards the ground like a single-target shockwave, arcing upwards like a whip headed to crack.

London darted to the side, crouching a bit, but keeping the gun trained on it. Another swipe; More energy; Easy dodge; He succeeded, diving over the sizzling gash left by the last attack, rolling, and hoisting the AK back up to keep firing.

"COME ON, THEN!"

The Dragon spasmed, roaring to the heavens, bullets ignored like mosquito bites. Blue energy began to grow up the gaps in scales beneath the monster's neck.

"YOU WANNA COOK SOMEONE?! FUCKIN' COME ON! DO IT! I'M RIGHT HERE!"

London keeps firing, and runs left; The Dragon's gaze tilts at a sickening angle as it follows him, body twisting almost like a zombie just to begin trying to pursue. Only a few more seconds.

"LONDON! DON'T!" Cave shrieked. Shoving Falcom through the hedge unceremoniously, the woman breaks into a run, desperate to catch up. What can she do? Push him aside?! The attack would just kill both of them, but she couldn't just – she mustn't – she HAD TO do something!

The man's violent grin matched exactly that of some of the harsher gunfights in the Tower. She knew that face.

That was the face London wore when he was dancing with death and getting out of step.

Before her, the looming silhouette of a monster; The bullet-spewing shape of the man she was to protect; Ten seconds from death, the both of them. Cave's powerful legs pumped harder than she ever had before, ignoring the shouts of her subordinate PERSIANs telling her to just get out of there. Hot wind began to hit her face; Raw heat bursting from every pore of the Viral Dragon that she was running past.

'Not now not now not now not now not now not now please Goddess not here not now'

The Dragon's jaws opened just as Cave reached him. The two shielded their eyes from the incoming blast.

And, above all of it, six gunshots rang true above the noise, fast enough to have been from an automatic, followed by the light suddenly aiming away from them, the Dragon looking upwards, and unleashing a huge blast of fire straight into the sky. Everything in the area seemed to go darker as the blinding cobalt flames poured into the cloud layer.

Cave took her chance, grabbing London by the collar, and sweeping his leg, pushing him over. "Get down!" she barked, unceremoniously shoving him to the floor and holding him down. The air grew extremely hot; As London winced and covered his eyes, he grabbed the back of Cave's head, yanking it sharply towards his chest to shield as much of her face as possible.

Behind them, the lumbering beast staggered, expending almost a power plant's worth of energy over the course of thirty seconds, lashing and flailing blindly around. Licks of extreme fire carved clean marks through the vegetation, soil, and cloud barrier…but no people.

The heat, eventually, subsided, along with the Dragon's final death rattle; London and Cave weren't really able to see what happened, but the ground shaking and the crash that followed were a pretty good indicator that the Dragon...was dead. London winced, opening his eyes slightly, and blinking as dust settled around the two, along with an eerie silence.

"N-Ngh...right...w-well…"

He shifted a bit, then looked down. Cave was still held to his chest, scrunching her face up, hands to her chest and knees curled up atop him.

"You good, Cave?"

The woman just sighed after a moment, relaxing her face a bit, before looking up at him in a very unamused way.

"London?"

"Yeah?"

"Do that again, and I'm going to put my shoe so far up your ass that you'll be puking my nail polish."

"...noted."

"Otherwise, yes. A bit cooked, but I'd rather be a tad crispy than turned into ash."

"Well, makes two of us."

"One more thing."

"Hm?"

"Well done."

"...eh?"

Cave shifted a bit, putting her hands out so she could hoist herself to sit up, grunting as she did, with soil and rubble coming off her back. Her eyes locked with his, and she offered an exhausted, but genuine smile.

"If...you hadn't done that? That insane act of bravado? We would all have died. You distracted it."

London chuckled, resting his head on the ground, and sighing a bit.

"Christ...well, I mean, I kinda just wanted to shoot it in the face a bit more. Sort of forgot for a minute that I was turnin' it to look away from that lot."

There was a momentary pause. Eventually, though, Cave giggles a bit. Slow, at first, but eventually she's laughing, an act mimicked by London - nervous, at first, but...well, they survived. They have the right to laugh. It's a minute or two of chuckling at their fortune, followed by a brief moment of catching their breath and getting their bearings, before Cave stood herself up, extending a hand down to him.

"Well, let's get back to it. C'mon, big guy, on your feet."

London grinned, and accepted the hand, pulling himself back up with Cave's surprising strength to support him. He dusted himself off, and Cave did the same, before they looked down at the dead Dragon before them.

The corpse looked as expected of a Viral creature that had used a wipe attack. Every scale, bent out of shape; Every vein burst open; Teeth that hadn't shattered from gunfire, melted to an enamel paste; The mutant bone shards burst forth from the skin. Most certainly, a hundred percent, dead. London chuckled, and stepped forwards, tapping a boot against the monster's twisted, charred snout.

"Y'know what, Cave?" he asked jokingly. "I think it might be dead."

Whilst a smirk crossed her features, Cave frowned soon after, approaching it, and reached forwards, pulling an eyelid open on the beast. She blinked, squinting.

"And blind."

"Blind?"

"Mm," she nodded, gesturing for him to look. London took a few steps over some slag-soil, still glowing hot, and leaned in to look. "The eyes don't normally explode on Viral creatures. Not even if their death was that violent. Those gunshots took out the eyes. Perfectly."

Sure enough, Cave wasn't wrong: Each of the beast's eyes - the two original ones, plus the four misshapen and discolored eyes that had formed during the transformation - now hosted a single bullet, retinas billowed out on their course of carnage. London's face soon matched Cave's curious expression, and he took a few steps more to reach in and pry one of them out.

Cave raised a brow, pursing her lips. "Delightful to watch."

London grimaced, fishing through the beast's eyeball, and attempting to get purchase on the bullet. He clenched his jaw a bit when he got an actual grip, and began the surprisingly arduous task of pulling the bullet out.

"Cave, sarcasm don't look good on anyone. Not even you."

She rolled her eyes, smirking a bit and folding her arms. "My, aren't you a charmer?" she quipped. "You really do know how to wow a woman, don't you?"

A grunt; London stumbled back a bit, bullet now between his fingers, and he let out a relieved sigh, looking at it. "I sure do," he mused, "Wanna see the bullet I yanked out of this thing's face?"

Cave shook her head a bit, before approaching to look. The bullet wasn't too big; Crumpled on impact, but there wasn't a way she could envision it being any bigger than a pistol round when it was whole. She furrowed her brow.

"It's a little small."

London nodded, scratching at his forehead a bit. "Yeah. It's not seven-six-two, so not one of mine. This...looks like forty-five."

"Oh? That's a pistol caliber, isn't it?" Cave leaned in a bit to look closer at it, to which London responded by holding the bullet up slightly, better catching more light.

"Yeah...yeah, it is, but summat ain't right on it. Definitely not ACP."

She raised a quizzical brow. "ACP?"

"Oh, uh, Automatic Colt Pistol."

"I know what two of those words are."

"Don't worry, I'll fill you in later. Point is, it's not standard."

"Standard by which measure?"

"It's not modern."

"I mean, you're still using a firearm. That's not exactly modern, either."

London rolled his eyes for a moment, then licked his lips a bit.

"Look...OK. Let's just say it looks like it's from a time between a musket, and a modern bullet. How's that?"

His response came as a smug grin from Cave. "Oh, perfect. I'm glad you could take the time explaining that this is a black powder forty-five caliber bullet from a handgun with a poorly-rifled barrel, likely using brass casings."

London looked at her, raising a brow. "Brass casin'...? I never mentioned any -"

He paused. Then, smirked, groaning.

"Oh, sod off, you cheeky so-and-so."

"IIIII know my firearms, London.~" Cave put her hands behind her back, still smirking. "But, it still does raise the question of who fired it. Was anyone using a black powder...handgun…?"

Cave paused, looking down as a realization set in. London hit the same realization, doing the same. The pair spent a moment in consideration, then looked at each other.

"No way."

With the speed the two immediately set off at, back into the field to try and find the only possible culprit with an impossible alibi, you'd think they'd just struck rich on the lottery and wanted to cash in. Over shattered grassy hills and piles of dissolving data, empty shell casings, and dropped weapons, the two gunslingers ran, eyes and ears peeled for noise, which came soon into their run.

A whistling. Not quite obvious at first, but...whistling. Not through the trees, not rushing wind...a whistling. Someone blowing a tune on short blasts, as if trying to get attention.

Then, a voice, just over the crest of the hill.

"Jenny! Where ya at, girl?"

Cave and London shared a stunned look, stumbling to the top, and looked down into the area before them.

Standing in the middle of the area where most of the fighting had happened, fingers to his mouth and whistling for the black mare that was gently trotting back towards him, was none other than Nick. He looked like absolutely nothing had happened to him. Pristine.

Pristine white, that is.

"H-Holy fuckin' shit."

The skeleton turned to look up at the voice, bony hand petting the horse before him a few times. Nick's expression - pure skull goodness - was absolutely unreadable as he stared towards Cave and London. In his left hand was the somewhat torched Colt Single Action Army that he'd been blasting monsters with; Adorning his head was the inexplicably untouched-by-fire cowboy hat that he had been wearing before...wait, wasn't that gone when he got burned…?

London paled. Cave stumbled a bit, almost fainting on the spot, but maintained her balance.

"...M-Mr. Bones?" she called out nervously.

Nick looked down at himself, then - gradually - brought a bony finger to his jawbone, scratching it slightly.

"Well...y'know, 's been a wild ride, and, uh…"

He paused. The skeleton seemed to search for the correct words. Then, his empty sockets made eye contact with the two again.

"...y'all got any, uh, skin ah could have? Y'know, like...soon?"