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*Grimm would fire shot after shot doing her best, she had a plan for when she ran out of darts. She felt her pistol in its holster strapped to her left leg. She would go out there and do what she did best, she was exited for the chance of field research. She knew she had to make a choice. She looked at the blue team, she saw a team, willing to win at any means necessary. She looked at the red team, she saw a team, like a family, trying to fight for their cause. They seemed to care about each other. Grimm remembered her childhood, alone, no one there to comfort her. She had made her decision. If it came to it, she would join the red team. Though she would still do her best to heal anyone injured, including her adversaries, she still wanted to fight for the cause she believed in all her life*

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Chip stopped to catch his breath, him panting but still making sure not to get hit. He would occasionally hear a small meow from somewhere. Little known fact about Chip, his favorite housepet are cats. So he would always get nostalgia when he heard the meow. He also saw flashes of a little black cat nearby, one with a limp and with a white line in his fur, he noticed. He sped over to the cat, still dodging attacks. He got on his knees and held out his hand for the cat to sniff. The cat had a collar, indicating he was owned by somebody, but the owner is probably dead, as many people were.

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*Grimm finally ran out of darts, she didn’t realize she would be healing so rapidly, she put her MS.9 on her back and she grabbed her bag and began her way to the red team’s base of operations. She would stop at the gate and would sit and wait for someone to come and check the gate*

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There was someone who was calling for it. Sniffing the air, the cat gently nudged one of the unmoving bodies. It smelled dead and the cat let out a small mournful mrowl before trotting over to whatever was calling it. It was a human, one that was alive and uninjured by the smell of it. Sniffing around the outstretched hand, the cat purred though the sound seemed to be heavy vibrations which shook the cats chest more than any sound. Tangling its body between the humans legs, the cat meowed happily. It always lavished under the attention humans gave it, delighting in the bliss that came with pays on the head or scratches behind the ear. Stretching up to butt its head against the offered hand, Chip could see that embroidered along the thick collar was a name: Sanshine

As San, or Sanshine as his collar so delightfully suggested (he would murder whichever higher up thought it was funny to combine his civilian name with sunshine of all things), pampered himself with affection, his more human mind slowly coming back online to better guide his feline body, he could hear the familiar tell tale sounds of someone drawing closer. Black ears flicked up and San stepped away just as a Blue soldier charged at the pair wildly brandishing a knife. At a glance, San couldn't identify them so he felt no guilt at launching himself at his own ally with a yowl. Sharp fangs found a home buried in soft flesh as San sank his teeth into a vulnerable neck, claws coming up to scrabble at the soldier's shoulders. Occasionally, they would draw angry red lines of blood along the sides of the neck. It was a gruesome and bloody affair, one that San took no pleasure in as he was battered and bruised in the soliders attempt to pry him off, but it was undeniably effective when the Blue soldier finally went down with a wet gurgle. Primly washing his paws of the blood splatter, San meandered back to Chip, acting as if he hadn't just murdered an ally

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"Interesting-" Chip murdered, brushing his hand across the black cats head. "You're a fighter, aren't you?" He asked, but he knew the cat couldn't respond. He stood up, rubbing off his clothes and petting the cat one more time before declaring "I've gotta go, little kitty. " He said, and then saw the name on the collar.

Why have I always loved cats? I feel there's importance of cats. There's a cat, it's blurry, I can't see it perfectly, but it's a cat.

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Letting out a sad little murp, more so at the loss of pets rather than Chip actually having to leave, San rubbed his head against the humans legs. Letting his scent longer, a marker for him to exploit later should be ever run into the peculiar human that had stopped in the middle of a battlefield to let a cat at a later date, San let himself bask in the attention a little more before flicking the humans's ankle with his tail. With that parting gift, San trotted away heading deeper into Red territory. His limp seemed a little more pronounced, an unfortunate payoff for engaging in combat before he had healed his already fractured his legs when he had jumped out from the helicopter. Not really his brightest moment but he never claimed to be very intelligent as a cat.

As he finally reached the base, San could see someone in a mask sitting by the gates. Meowing loudly, he meandered over to her and sniffed. She didn't smell injured so he simply rubbed his cheek over her arm before proceeding to the gate. There wasn't quite enough space for him to squeeze through but it wasn't like that would stop him. One by one, his joints popped and shifted, dislocating them as he stepped through the metal. His shoulders was the hardest and he had to wiggle a bit. He had always been top heavy anyways.

Once he made it through the gate and his joints had popped back in place and San took the time to carefully groom his dirtied and ruffled fur. He met Grimm's eyes through the bars of the gate and for a moment the car almost looked smug. It was like the cat was gloating but that couldn't be possible. It was just a cat. Turning tail, San meandered into the compound looking for anything that he could possibly read or gain information from

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For some reason, nobody seemed to pay any mind to the small girl roaming around the battlefield. Oftentimes, she'd stumble over rubble and fallen weapons. It was an embarrassing sight for sure. It was clear that she was not worth the fight.. Or so she thought.

She was slowly advancing towards an injured person when an aura close by raced towards her. She barely had time to react as the person slammed into her, throwing her heavily down onto the ground. She was still on the middle of recovering from the surprising blow when the person reared a leg back to kick her.
"Wait!" She screams out. "I'm no threat! Just let me heal that person!"

"How dumb do you think I am" a feminine voice snaps. "You're clearly from the Blue group. Do you really think I'd allow you to stab my friend?" Bree doesn't answer, instead she keeps her gaze trained on the girl's friend. Their aura had a lot of red. Their leg was injured, along with a wound to the side and head. She could tell from the dark glow that the head wound was severe. They didn't have a lot of time.

"Don't be stupid" Bree fires back. She was already moving onto her feet. "You don't have a choice. We both know your friend doesn't have a lot of time!" Bree throws her knife to the side and takes a daring step forward. "I get that you're scared and don't trust me, but if you truly care about your friend, you'll take this gamble to save their life!"

Silence passes between them. This time, when Bree walks towards the injured person, the girl doesn't object. Bree bends down, intent on fixing the head wound first when she hears gunfire. She jumps in surprise when blood splatters onto her hand. An enraged scream rips out of the girl who attacked her. Bree's eyes widen as the injured person's aura slowly turns purple, and a red light appears near the shoulder of the girl who attacked her.

"You- you were a diversion!" The girl screams out. "Y-you monster!"

Monster... The voice echoes in Bree's head, shocking her in place. Bree almost reacts too late to the sudden movement from the girl. She just barely manages to lift up an arm to block whatever attack was about to come. Pain tears across her arm as something sharp rips into her flesh. Her pained scream is drowned out by more gunfire and the body of the girl crumbles down on the ground next to her. This girl's own aura slowly turns purple. Clutching the deep wound on her arm, Bree barley noticed the pain as she stared down at the two bodies laying close to her.

Her life had potentially been saved. But for some reason, Bree couldn't bring herself to feel thankful. The girl's final word still rang in her head. Monster... Within her daze, she was startled when she felt a strange presence close by. She raises her head up to glance towards Erin. There was a mixture of shock and curiosity on her face. It had to be her. No other aura was as unique as her's. What was she doing here?

"You're welcome." Bree's heart nearly stops when she hears Erin speak those words. So it was her! Why did she-? She glances away from Erin with a clenched jaw. She struggles to hold back tears as she remains crouched over two fallen enemies. No... They weren't enemies. Just two unfortunate souls caught up in this mess, and now they were... Without realizing it, Bree tightens her grip on her arm, causing blood to pool down her arm and drip down on the ground beneath her.

Chip, after zooming around for a while, stopped to catch his breath again. In the meantime, some person from the opposing side took the chance to fire a shot at him, hitting his leg. He yowled out in pain, surveying the battlefield for the person who fired the shot. He took his own gun and fired a shot back, hitting whoever shot him in the arm. He tried to make an escape but his leg was in no shape to do so. He limped around the battlefield still able to fight but vulnerable.

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*Grimm saw the cat and watched it walk through the gate, Grimm stretched to keep her limbs from cramping, she wiped off the dirt on her eyes( her eyes are the goggle of the mask, her face is the mask). She would begin to think that no one would notice here. She knew the car wasn’t just a cat, she had seen it before as a human.*

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Andrea ‘transforms’ into a bunch of black matter, and speeds towards blue’s territory. She then reforms into a human in Blue’s territory, before walking swiftly through the crowd of fighters towards Blue’s base. No one questioned her, having seen her before, and also having seen her being experimented on. Then perhaps there was the other factor that she was walking with purpose, and a strong aura of confidence. No one seemed to doubt her, she seemed to be one of them. She was quite sure that someone would have infiltrated Red’s base, so she would do the same, as a spy. She would only hurt those who had real intent to hurt, not those that were randomly tossed into the war like some ingredients for a salad. Soft chaos magic swirled around her hands, ready to use if she needed them

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Grey was a whirlwind of horror in his veins, blood on his hands, and metal falling to peices around him. He was plowing through enemy lines, getting closer and closer to his goal, until the tide of the battle pushed him back. He cursed, but his injuries were too much. He had to retreat, though he didn't think that he could face the general. So, he prayed that somehow he could talk his way out of this. Grey had always been good at talking, and charming. Maybe it would pull through again. So, he limped back to base, and when he was halfway there, he collasped. His leg was nearly spent, the metal plates twisted and damaged. He would lose his leg soon..still, he kept going, still fighting. He would do something about this, to live another day.

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Jaxon was the last to jump, he running start causing the helicopter to rock dangerously. The heavy man wore no parachute, much to the dismay of both pilots of the helicopter. One of them turned, looking back at the one remaining soldier, who was getting ready to jump. "Was he wearing a parachute?!" The soldier grinned, a senior officer to nearly all who had just jumped. "Of course not!" With that, he stepped out of the chopper, freefalling. The large form of Jaxon fell before him, though he kept waiting to deploy anything to slow his fall... He waited... And waited... There wasn't enough time now, for him to stop himself without breaking his legs. However, he only swung his legs forward, curling into a ball and slowly spinning. Five seconds to impact... Four... Three... Two... There, there was a change in the falling figure. It was hard to tell what exactly had happened, but something changed. One second... Impact. Jaxon had landed in the middle of two warring machines, one faster but the other stronger. He laid still for three seconds, a massive cloud of dust going up over his head, clouding vision both friendly and aggressive. Both of the armored vehicles stopped moving, unable to navigate without line-of-sight. Standing up, Jaxon brushed off his now filthy uniform. Looking up, he recognized the barrel of the enemy vehicle, still shrouded in the ever-spreading dust. He chewed on his tongue for a moment, hearing the sounds of battle slowly fall into chaos and confusion around him, the dust choking friends and enemies alike. Jaxon ran forward, out of a two-and-a-half foot crater he'd just made, and leapt onto the tank marked in red. The shouts of the crew within could be heard, hearing footsteps on the shell of their mobile bunker. Jaxon reached down once he reached the apex of the armored gun, wrenching the top hatch open with a single mighty twist, tugging the hatch out of the way, letting it rest on the cover of the turret. Reaching down once again, the soldier reached into the tank, pulling the crew's spotted out of his place and hoisting him aside with both hands. They had no weapons on their bodies, the tank crew assured that they would be protected. With the turret clear, Jaxon sat at the edge of the opening, kicking downwards with all high might, ruining the spotting system and crippling the turret's rotation. Standing back up, he leapt off the vehicle. His job was done there. The crew shouted to one another, scrambling out of the now ruined tank and scattering, gathering their comrade before Jaxon found himself a weapon.

*Grimm would climb over the gate and she would begin her search for the main hub tent of the camp. She hoped she was able to join*

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Trotting past a sea of unfamiliar faces, San quietly sat outside of various doors and sulked as if he had been thrown out of these meetings. It was surprising how much a simple cat could get away with, simply traveling between people. They really did think that he had once belonged to one of the many dead and had no where else to go. Sometimes, if San was feeling particularly vindictive, he would sit on some important papers and slap his paw on areas that he knew wasn't being very highly controlled by Blue. Of course, he never pointed out places where his own family was stationed. He might be working for Blue but he had his own agenda.

It was also kinda funny how much information he now had. You would not believe what people let slip when they think that they're talking to a cat. Apparently the head strategist had a soft spot for cats and was always adopting strays so San was simply accepted as another one of the countless cats wandering the base. Indeed, San did make niceties with a pretty maine coon who shared some tuna with him but the most best part of his spying was simply sitting in the same room as the head strategist. It let him get an eyeful of the various maps and plans Red had at its disposal. It almost felt like cheating but San wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, he didn't plan on spilling any of the beans to the higher ups. These plans would simply help make his family disappear quietly, without a trace. Missing in action so they would say, mourning the loss of multiple investments that they had made over the years.

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What the hell just happened...? Dantier looked in the direction of the two massive craters that formed when thing that seemed to be human beings fell to the earth. The ground rumbled and the direction of the gunfire was direct at them. He only knew 2 people who could do that, and he was not excited to have a reunion with them. Why couldn't he have something cool like invincibility or animal-like properties, why did he have to be stuck with something that was almost completely useless in combat, or even completely useless in every situation? He groaned upon seeing the two and grabbed a gun and began to fire. Over the 'years' that he had to endure this loop, he had honed his abilities to make up for the lack of anything all too special. He was great at any type of weapon, but that didn't exactly help him stand out. All of a sudden, his head jerked towards a loud yell that could be heard by all on the Red team. It was the general, commanding all soldiers currently standing to rush forward and attack Blue at a shorter range. Oh no no no... What was he thinking?! That plan was probably one of the worst he had ever seen, and he even knew the outcome of it. "Ah sh-" He blurted out, being rudely interrupted by a bullet tearing through his lower hip. He let out a scream of agony as he fell to the ground and tightly held his side. He knew he had to somehow warn everyone that rushing forward was a terrible idea, but it was too late. The field pounded as the soldiers ran across the ground, and all Dantier could do was tend to himself. He knew that starting over was probably the best option here, since the injury was deep and he had a high chance of dying due to the area he was hit at.

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Rey was gaining better control by the minute. Despite the lack of his non-dominant hand, the fire was more than enough to keep enemies at bay. Whats more, that weird little voice in his head seemed to have saved him a few times, too. "DUCK!" screamed the little voice, which seemed to grow clearer, louder, and much more bold by the minute. Rey ducked, just to feel a bullet whizz over his head. "Thanks" he said to the little voice in his head, as concerning as hearing little voices in a head would be, it did save him a few times, so he'll let it slide. "Idiot" Replied the voice. The voice was quite clear now. It was bold, loud, and rather feminine, as if it was a girl speaking to him. A rather rude one. But there were much more serious things to worry about other than going insane, such as staying alive. Other than losing a hand, which he didn't have many, things were going great. With Rey's temporary power and the little voice screaming info (and insults, mostly directed at him), it seemed that he will be able to survive this, after all.

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*Grimm would find the main tent and she would wait outside for someone to come out and notice her*

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A few seconds passed, minutes even, and nothing changed. The pain only got worse and he was immobile, and probably would be for quite a long time. His vision began to fog up and tint red from the blood, and anything he could feel in his limbs were fading. Before Dantier knew it, he passed out. When he awoke, it was to a loud noise, similar to a motor. The pin was gone and his senses returned to normal. Wow... That was the first time in a long while where he didn't die to his own hand. It was weird, really, but by now he was used to it. He took a deep and panicked breath as his eyes snapped open, alerting everyone on the helicopter. He was standing right at the edge of the door, parachute on his back, looking over the field. He quickly decided it was best to just jump like before and let things continue to achieve the same outcome.

Once he landed, he carefully looked around to make sure everything was the same. The two massive craters made by soldiers, the same rhythm of gunshots, everything. He let out a sigh of relief until he looked over his left shoulder, where he made eye contact with the general. It was different... He had a different look to him, and this time he was raising a phone to his ear. He was speaking into it, staring directly at Dantier... Oh no... Cold sweat began to drip down his face, the realization that the man somehow did something different when he shouldn't terrifying him. He would've stayed frozen solid, his gaze clamped on the general until a bullet rushed by his face, leaving a long trail of blood just above his ear. He got snapped back to reality, allowing him to fight like he intended to when he landed.

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His leg hurt

It had been hurting for a while and occasionally a flick would be enough to send numbness running down the limb. But eventually the pain would return and he would flick his legs again.

His back hurt even more

Stretching out languidly, San read over the current battle map and he planted his paws right over a nice spot of land that he knew didn't have very many Blue soldiers guarding it. A nice little hole in their defence that Red could totally exploit. Oh no, what a disaster. San really hoped that they wouldn't exploit such a tactically advantageous area and he meowed loudly. And again, and again. As the strategist meandered over, San bapped the map furiously with his paws, smacking the same spot over and over again. Instead of moving his paws away to see what was under them, the strategist instead pushed against San's side, making him yowl in annoyance in pain as the hand pressed firmly against a still healing wound. Twisting around, San hissed and swiped at the hand only the pause at where the strategist had placed his pin. The rocky valley was where many of his fellow experiments had been stationed, a strategic and important piece of land that Blue controlled. His blood froze at the implications, red eyes transfixed on the marker that spelled the death of the small family he had built from the ground up. Each experiment had a name and a personality, had tests that they preferred over others, had dreams snuffed out too early. They were dreamers who's bodies had been warped and minds broken, heroes who's demons were inked onto their skin. But to the higher ups, be they Red or Blue or whatever faction had their grubby fingers in this war, they were just another number on the list of dead. Barring his fangs, San launched himself at the scientist with a screech, claws outstretched. He would never forgive those who wanted to hurt his family, he grimly reminded himself as he sank his teeth into soft flesh. Iron burst across his tongue and his body screamed

With gentle hands, San adjusted the straps on the parachute making sure that they were not only operational but also wouldn't hurt anyone the moment they were deployed. He knew that it would sting like hell once it opened, shoulders jerking back and air drag yanked against their gravitational decent. "Stay safe." He instructed, staring each member of his family in the eye. "If you enter a battle you can't win, run. If you have the chance to escape from this hell, do so. There is no shame in fleeing, nor is there anything wrong with building a new life for yourself. Always prioritize yourself." He waited until each person nodded their head, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. Those were blasphemous orders he was giving but he couldn't care less. He had no personal stakes on this war, his only priority being his family. If they were safe then all was well. He would be a pawn for the Higher Ups of it meant their continued and relative safety.

Ignoring the parachutes entirely, he instead went over to a rack where utility belts lined the bars. Strapped it firmly to his body, San made sure to make sure that he had all his equipment. His tail was wrapped around his waist and tucked under his shirt, ears pinned back. The first time he had jumped with those extra appendages, he had ripped a hole in his ear. Since then, he had learned that it was better to keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. Finally, he picked up a familiar set of weapons. An pair SIG SG 553 rifles were his go-to weapons as they were fully customizable in how many rounds were fired. It was a temperamental gun bit it suited him perfectly. One was quickly disassembled and its parts placed into one of his various pouches lining his waist. The other he held firmly in hand. Glancing back at his family, he gave them a jaunty salute and roguish grin before falling out of the plane

It was frightening easy to fall into a role, letting San fade away. From the moment the wind buffeted his falling body, S48A2N5 was in control letting the familiar howl of wind rush pas his pinned ears. The ground hurtled towards him and he let himself fall, fall, fall, deeper into apathy and numbness. Tucking into a ball, S48A2N5 landed on the battlefield with a sickening crunch, genetically modified muscles soaked up the shock like a sponge as screams of shock and pain punctuated the flashy landing. Dust billowed up, obscuring the vision of anyone in the immediate vicinity as the screams only grew on volume. Under his feet, a body could be seen, S48A2N5's boot having punched right through the soldier's chest and knee cracking open a now leaking skull. Red eyes glimmered through the still falling dust before the sound of gunfire joined in the chaos.

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Chips let hurt. Like hell. He groaned and a bullet whizzed past his cheek, barely leaving a mark of dark red. His hand shakily went up to his right cheek, feeling it. It was the consistency of a liquid. Wet. He looked down at his hands, knowing and fearing what was there. It was blood, as he suspected. Chip hadn't had any real near-death instances and preferred it to stay that way.

Chip's parachute opened behind him just as he was a few thousand feet above the ground, and it gently helped him to the battle below. When he landed, he quickly took out his gun and started shooting, whilst also avoiding and dodging attacks with his speed, he also fought with his fists if he was close enough. He had no offense powers, but his speed provided great dodging and weaving between people. He would encounter many bodies on the ground and blood everywhere. Chip had blood all over himself as well, probably from getting hurt multiple times. He might outspeed his enemies, but there was a crap ton of them. And he didn't necessarily have good reflexes either; speed doesn't equal good. Not even for his lower body, as his feet and legs got cut and bruised over time.

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