[ Another battlefield, one where she doesn't recognize the players. War is the same regardless though, whether it's soldiers in mechanical combat suits or giant robots hunting down anyone with a particular genetic profile. The hopelessness, the fear that grips you before the surge of adrenaline, the pain of losing even a single person you were supposed to keep safe.
But even if it's the same, she'd really rather not be here, thanks.
An explosion nearby throws her to the side, wet sand clinging to the black leather of her uniform. She sees a-- thing over a sand dune, something terrifying, and instinct tells her to grab the gun of a nearby fallen soldier. It's big, and heavy, but she's not going down without a fight. ]
falling down the stairs
But even if it's the same, she'd really rather not be here, thanks.
An explosion nearby throws her to the side, wet sand clinging to the black leather of her uniform. She sees a-- thing over a sand dune, something terrifying, and instinct tells her to grab the gun of a nearby fallen soldier. It's big, and heavy, but she's not going down without a fight. ]