M16 had this feeling she couldn't fully explain with logic. It was like someone was watching her, tracking her, and she hated that feeling. At first she thought it was the ringleader again, but she threw that hypothesis out almost an hour into her current evasive maneuvers. Sangvis ringleaders were the kind of hunters that used hounds- they sent out their little drones and dummies to probe and flush before moving in for the kill.

This one tracked, it stalked and skulked. It showed a level of cunning and understanding of its prey that only the most advanced ringleader models had. M16 had only picked up that she was being stalked after a hunch- she had left behind a proximity audio sensor three kilometres back at her last breadcrumb and sure enough, twenty minutes after she received an audio-file ping.

From then on, she was set to full alert. Pace cut in half, audio and visual cranked to the maximum they could go. Her stalker had gained in that time, still able to follow M16's barely noticeable traces- one hell of a formidable model if that were the case. Going toe-to-toe with an unknown ringleader solo… she could do it, but wouldn't come out of it in any condition that M4 would find "acceptable"- and she had to look her best for the reunion with the team.

And speak of the devil… her closed network snapped to life that very moment. Someone had found the coded network cipher she had left behind. Immediately she tapped into it.

'...this... is this the correct communication signal?'

'Come in, come in.' M16 hailed back to that little pulse of nervous energy. Like a flower blooming, excitement and relief burst forth from the doll on the other end of M16's line, but no actual message. 'Uhhh… M4A1, do you copy me?' She pinged again.

'M16!? M16 are you okay?'

'Ah, yeah. I'm good, M4.' If M16 were to be honest, it felt a little embarrassing to be the object of such concern, and she was already bad enough with networked communication- it felt… weird. 'Does this mean that everyone's met up now?' She pivoted quickly, flipping the concern back to M4 before she had to admit that her current situation was not exactly the best. If her little sister grilled her on her current situation, well M16 would be hard pressed to lie.

'STAR and SOP II are both here, we're just waiting on you now.'

'That's great. I need you to just relax a second.' There was still nervousness pulsing out from M4, poor girl still hadn't fully taken control over herself yet. 'I'm heading towards an old resupply point but uh… there's a problem I need to take care of first.'

'What other problem? M16!? How long?'

That creeping feeling was closer than ever before. A shadow breathing down her neck. She needed to shake whatever this thing was before meeting back up with M4. If it was that Agent model-

'Ah- listen, I'm going to hang up now. Meet me at the marked resupply.'

'Wait, M16!'

It hurt to hang up so suddenly on her sister, but there were more pressing concerns now. That feeling was closer, no… it was here. She felt like a deer in the cross-hairs, and just like a startled doe, M16 bolted. Just escape and evade wouldn't be enough.

'Found you.' A cold, electronic voice cut into M16's communication line. Private channel, tapped directly in. Not at all like a ringleader's forceful hijack of the radio-waves.

*Pap pap*

Clear audio, suppressed rifle just at the edge of her extended audio detectors. M16 was already swinging her case the moment she had detected the first decibel pop. Two rounds slammed into the hardened plate right at head level, and she couldn't help but whistle in appreciation at the shot.

But these were bullets, not bolts of plasma.

M16 could only grin at her luck today. Only a T-doll could make that shot, and only a rogue T-Doll would even shoot at her to begin with. A rogue doll with such a hard-on for M16 that she'd stalk her for three kilometres? There was only one of those that M16 knew of.

Movement, shifting just outside M16's detection radius- a flanking maneuver. M16 moved with the predicted path, always keeping the weapons case covering her vitals. Two more taps of a suppressed rifle, this time the rounds striking low, one whizzing between M16's legs, the other striking the bottom end of the case.

Clever attempt, can't maneuver if her legs were shot up. M16 dropped to a crouch, completely hunkering behind the case as two more shots cracked in. She could return fire… but without any accurate data on where to shoot, she'd just be making noise for SF pick up on.

Two more bullets cracked off the case dangerously close to her face- from the old angle. Her unseen enemy had either doubled back to the previous fighting location in half the time- or there were two shooters.

Her stalker was trying to mess with her triangulation. If they wanted to play the shadowy maneuver game, fine; they could play that game all they wanted. M16 just wouldn't play by their rules.

So she fell back, mapping the data of the terrain around her. There was clearing to the south-west, a good spot. She set her predictive program to target the center of the empty clearing.

Thirty spots the highlighted as optimal attacking points, narrowed down to the most preferable for denying return fire... left just ten positions. As M16 skidded to a stop in the center of the clearing, she could further narrow it down to only the locations that gave a flanking angle to get past her case-turn-shield.

Only the most perfect angle on M16 would do. It had to be flawless to hit her- or at least that was what her opponent would go for. M16 ripped the pin from a flash-bang and teased the spoon. Her unseen enemy would be in place in three… two… one-

She pitched the flash-bang out to the right, three trees deep into the forest line. It would have been the perfect angle- a threaded shot past several tree trunks against M16's supposedly blind side. If someone was staring down the scope at her, they were blinded now.

Two panicked shots, still as deadly accurate as before cracked into the armored case.

But M16 wasn't there anymore. Unburdened by the case or her rifle's weight, she sprinted full tilt towards the shooter, making sure there was always a tree-trunk in the way as she closed the gap. A burst tore into a nearby tree, showering M16 with splinters- so the enemy had managed to reboot their audio before their visual... that was fine. M16 erupted from the foliage next to them, grabbing for the rifle's barrel and swinging it out and away.

Her CQC programs engaged, cutting out everything else.

-target pivoting weapon for new fire angle angle, off balance ten degrees.

[Strike inner elbow, leverage new break, pivot rifle down and out of hands, co-opt weapon]

-Sling still attached, unable to co-opt weapon, target reaching for sidearm.

[Pull weapon, knee target holster leg, break enemy's stance. Pivot body, use weapon sling to leverage enemy in over-hip throw.]

The rogue doll hit the forest floor, trying to twist their fall to get their sidearm on target. They never got that far, M16 kicked the USP out of the doll's hand long before its firing arc intersected with her. In one final stroke, she hit the sling-swivel's quick release, freeing herself from the tangle with the rogue doll's weapon in hand.

It felt nice, felt familiar- her firing core was semi-compatible with it. M16 backed up out of CQC range, pointing the rogue doll's own weapon back at her. There in the dirt, the ashen-haired doll stayed- not disabled, just upset in their defeat.

"Why…? I'm the better doll." The rogue doll's question didn't seem to be aimed at anyone in particular, more a lament than anything else. M16 decided to give her the painful answer the doll was seeking.

"A lot of reasons. Experience, reaction time, training… You fall short on all of the above- you rely too much on your core programming, Four-sixteen."

HK416 still hadn't picked herself up yet, so M16 kept her at gunpoint. Even though M16 held all the cards now, she still ran the predictions- what other moves could 416 make to get out of check?

"You never run out of ways to criticize, do you, M-Sixteen?"

She could hear 416's teeth grinding together, the elite doll's fists now balled up so tight they could crush diamonds- but 416 still hadn't moved. It didn't make M16 relax in the slightest- this was when the rogue doll was at her most dangerous.

"There is no such thing as perfect, Four-sixteen. Stop claiming yourself as such."

*Krrrkkk*

M16 didn't need her enhanced audio to hear those teeth grinding together. At this point, she was growing more worried that HK416 would simply detonate with the amount of raw animosity pumping through her mindmap- thermals were picking her up like a damn sunspot in the frigid night's air.

And at all at once, 416 relaxed, venting her heat in a single deflating hiss through the teeth. "What am I to you?" She asked.

M16 sighed. This again?

"You really want to know, huh? Alright, Four-sixteen, I'll tell you." M16 gently let off of the trigger, but kept the weapon trained on the rogue T-doll. Let her words be the bullets, for now. "I was fond of you back in StateSec, but now… now you're boring, you're worthless. You mean absolutely nothing to me." M16 had long since severed those connections to 416. They were a temporary mind-map modification anyways, a sort of test for M16's functionality. The eventual road-map for M4, nothing more than that. Only 416 didn't see it that way.

She mulled over telling 416 everything- to just break the elite doll's sense of self over her knee, but another bit of her digimind ruled against it. Not out of pity- never out of pity- but out of a need to keep an existential bullet for if 416 came at her again like this. For now, 416 was still a useful tool, but she needed to learn her place. M16 was content to let her former teammate stay in the dirt, where she belonged.

"...I hate you." 416 hissed through gritted teeth. She sat up, grabbing her beret from the forest floor as she stared down the barrel of her own weapon. "How is it you can point that so coldly at an old friend with no stutters or hesitation?"

"Well, no doll can turn themselves off completely. That's the problem with all of us." M16 replied, "But I can make exceptions- a lot like you can."

"I never enjoyed that exception." 416 spat, glaring so deeply at M16 that it felt like she were trying to send a terabyte's worth of hate through looks alone.

416 hadn't gone for her handgun and wouldn't be able to even if she wanted- at least not before M16 was on top of her with bayonet in hand. Lowering 416's threat status, M16 moved closer to where the handgun lay, tearing down the upper and lower receiver and stripping out the bolt before throwing it all back at 416.

"I'm through with you, Four-sixteen. I have an anxious sister to get back to, and I can't be wasting my time with a doll who won't even come at me with everything. Stay out of my way." M16 pointed threateningly.

"So… that's your weakness, huh?" 416 mumbled, reassembling her rifle without any sense of urgency. M16 lowered her threat value to ten percent- but not completely wiped yet. After all, 416 was still alive, though M16 could change that at a moment's notice if she tried to assemble and fire. She swept up 416's discarded sidearm...

The safety was still on, the little-

"You better learn to keep your mouth shut, and remember this little lesson..." M16 growled, holding the barrel end of 416's handgun out to her. When the doll grabbed hold, M16 refused let go, instead pulling 416 forward, eye to eyes with those shocking green irises of hers.

"If you don't, I'll make your digimind calculate the fastest way to get around your self-harm safeties, got it?"

"Tch." 416 broke eye-contact first, muttering under her breath. As close as an acknowledgement that M16 would ever get from her.

"And for you." M16 turned her attention towards where she had left her case and rifle, shouting at the shadowy figure standing beside it, "I'll see to you in a moment."

They were learning against M16's weapon case when she entered the clearing again. Exactly who she expected to see, but not necessarily who she wanted to.

"Yo." UMP-45 gave M16 a lazy wave. Yep, definitely not who M16 wanted to see right now. She kept her grimace down to just a pursing of the lips, but that was all she could get it down to.

"Where are the rest of your little team of misfits?"

UMP-45 shrugged, that same smug smile on her face as in the redacted files, but the small doll said nothing else.

"I'm about to pull back." M16 grunted, approaching 45 cautiously, "I don't suppose you're here to finish what Four-sixteen started."

UMP-45 hummed a little note to herself, tilting her head to the side. "When you're carrying around this much firepower-" she patted the case, causing M16 to take a threatening step forward, hand hovering over her bayonet handle. 45 threw her hands up and took a step away, grinning all the while as she continued, "I don't know if I want to tempt you."

"Well, I'm pretty sure it wasn't designed to be used on you, wouldn't you say?

"I would be inclined to agree." 45 turned her head over to where 416 must still be mulling over M16's words. "I was just on my way home too- after I picked up Four-sixteen from her little excursion out."

"Excursion." M16 scoffed, checking her rifle and case- nothing messed with, nothing planted on them. She relaxed slightly, glancing back to 45. "Funny how her idea of an excursion is testing the readiness of my combat processes."

"Oh don't you worry. She wouldn't kill you unless I gave her express orders to do so."

"I know, which is why she's sitting in dirt pouting instead of having a bullet in her cranial case."

"And that is why I'll let you waltz back to your team to play big sister with what time you have left."

That smugness. It grated at everything that M16 had programmed into her personality. She plucked her rifle sling off of the case and threw it over her shoulder, trying her best to appear polite and cordial. That lasted about a second and a half with UMP-45 staring at her like that. "Why is it you're always talking like you know something that you shouldn't." M16 sighed.

45 shrugged, but gave M16 a knowing wink. "Maybe because I always know things that I shouldn't. You'll be throwing your life away if you head back there, you know."

"Still the same bitter girl then…" M16 frowned with a shake of her head. "You underestimate sixteen-lab's neural-cloud tech. I won't die so easily."

45's smile had dropped, replaced with a deathly seriousness. She always knew that 45 had a problem with humans but this warning… it wasn't from that place of mistrust and petty revenge. That had grabbed M16's attention.

"What'd you learn that was so game-changing?"

45 motioned for M16 to lean in. The covert doll placed her mouth right up to M16's ear.

"It's raining on the plain." She whispered at a barely audible level, pulling away from M16 faster than the veteran doll had ever anticipated the girl could move, her namesake firearm ready in her hands now.

"Raining? Plain?" M16's eye narrowed at the secretive doll before her, hand drifting towards the pistol grip of her rifle as well, "I don't have cyphering programs like your little black-box does. Speak plainly this time."

45 was quietly regarding M16. Was she… scanning her, checking her IFF signal? It made M16 run a quick one over herself as well. All systems were green… so just what was going on?

UMP-45 sighed, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a thumb-drive alongside small tablet-like device. She plugged the thumb drive into it and with a few swipes of her finger, a recording crackled from the device's speakers.

"...the data we pulled from Commander *static*'s infiltration operation, as well as from *static* and *static* mentions that there is a shift in Sangvis that contradicts basic battle strategies. The current battle for Area *static* further demonstrates this shift to asymmetric tactics that we must be ready for. If you look at these comparisons-"

"Hey now, don't just go spouting off in replay mode… and what was with the voice filter? Just what exactly-"

"Ask your creator, she'll know what it means. That is, if you still trust her."

"What did you just say?" M16 still hadn't completely taken up her rifle, but did take a threatening step forward. She could take the slights against her, but the moment someone talked down about Persica, well that was where M16 drew the line.

"Humans use us as tools," 45 said softly, tucking the device back in her pocket, "Even those with the best of intentions. Anyways, I've got the bit I wanted, so I'm taking my leave of the AO."

"You kicked a wasp's nest and expect us to take care of it for you?" M16 grimaced, finally putting together just what they were doing here.

"Well of course." 45 grinned, "Besides, you owe me, you just don't realize it yet. Anyways, it's about time she learns to walk on her own, right?"

M16 had half the mind to put a bullet into 45 right now for putting M4 at risk too but…

Something was telling her that she should listen to 45. Something was amiss and while they had the pieces, they just couldn't fit them all together.

"Oh, and when you regroup with Griffin tell them-"

"I know… there was nothing here." M16 rolled her eye, turning her back so that UMP-45 could slip away back to whatever sewer she had crawled out from. When there was no more audio-pickup, she let out the biggest sigh of relief she had ever registered to her emotion module. Yes, she most certainly could never get along with that doll.

"There better not be a 'next time'." M16 mumbled, throwing her jacket back on and hefting her weapon case. This was no longer a training lesson for M4- there was something deeper going on that M16 just didn't have the mind-map to figure out. She missed when things were simple: "Go here, neutralize hostiles." or "Protect VIP, escort to safe-zone."... hell, she'd even take a "Stand guard forty-eight hour watch." Now things were... complicated.

But critical thinking and autonomy were what Persica wanted... no, expected from her, and right now every fiber and circuit of her digimind was telling her to group back up with M4. As much as she wanted her little sister to finally fend for herself, this looming sensation felt too big for even the whole of the AR team to tackle. Call it an old soldier's intuition, but something was changing.