The battlefield was murder personified.

One barreled through the line of enemies aiming to cross the stretch of the forest leading to the fortress. Her hands blazed, the tongues of fire neither scalding nor devouring her skin. Something about her skin made her resistant to burning, making her able to swing her arms without care of dripping liquid fire everywhere.

The air smelled of burnt flesh as her fingers closed around an arm. The red sleeve crumbled under her touch, searing straight into exposed skin in a few seconds. She grinned at the shriek of pain that followed. No way they'd get past her and invade the fortress. Not again. After Thirteen's scathing, less-than-a-thousand-word lecture, she learned to never care what the guy did and just follow orders. But in doing so, even that flimsy twig couldn't stop her from being creative.

Today's counter was an opportunity to push back any advances against them. For once, they were on the offensive, and it must be because Thirteen was confident they could pull off. Back in the command center, the guy must be dancing with his genius as all kids with inflated ego do. One swallowed the snicker arising in her gut. Focus on the melee.

To her left, Six ducked and rolled, hands supporting disc-versions of his barriers. Eight swooped nearby, snapping gusts of wind at lunging enemies and blowing projectile-based abilities out of trajectory. Ten followed in One's heels, roaring and grabbing anyone who went past One's defenses. The distinct snaps of bones or spines behind One were something she didn't want to dwell on. Not now.

Twelve had her back pressed against Seventeen as they drove back the ring of abilities closing on them. Huge splashes of bright red light flashed from the heart of the fray, driving enemies back from Seventeen's half. In Twelve's half, those in the front lines crumpled to their feet, ears bleeding from some unheard frequency assaulting them at full intensity.

Sixteen ran forward, swishing Five's blades. A strike to the stomach by some mechanical arm, and before she even hit the ground, the wound has closed up. Her attacker took a blow to the face, followed by complete decapitation, severing the nose from the face. The girl skipped over the corpse to deal with the immediate one behind them.

Extreme regeneration has its perks, albeit being gruesome.

A flash of purple and yellow ripped through One's periphery. She cursed, swerving to avoid the arc gearing for her. What a flashy power. Troublesome too. She narrowed her eyes at the man throwing daggers of electricity at her, each spike sparking to rival the force crawling on her skin. The nerve. She clapped her hands, sending a fire lance towards the one to her right. The air exploded upon collision, but two sparks later, the dagger was back in its path.

One scrambled back, the footwork exercise she'd done with Five the only skill keeping her alive. She couldn't turn back. Certainly not. She bared her teeth and followed the electric daggers' paths. At some point, even if they have homing capabilities, they'd slam against each other. Here's hoping those forces would cancel out.

Weight pressed against her back when she retreated well into another ongoing combat. A blade sliced past her cheek, leaving a streak of blood. She whirled around, straight into the daggers' path. Dear Lord.

The air sparked. Something metal clanged. One opened her eyes, having closed them out of panic. Eight's straight black hair fluttered like a curtain in the wind, her shadow falling over One. "Deal with the northwest. I'll handle this."

One nodded, bracing her knee to drag herself up. She dashed towards the opposite path just as Eight pumped her run with jetties of air to meet with the electric guy. Their grunts and powers clashing faded in One's ears as she flipped into the battle between red and blue sweaters, taking them all out with a slash of her hands. They would go down, but they wouldn't die.

Silver whizzed in the air, and another lithe shadow swung from the tree branches. Sixteen grinned at One as she stabbed left and right, finishing the job. Ten dropped to the ground with a thud, crushing a poor woman underfoot on her way. She glanced at One, dusting her hands free of splinters. Climbing trees couldn't have been fun.

"Any word from him?" Ten asked, slamming her boot into a shin and driving her knee up the guy's face. He crumpled in an instant. Sixteen rolled under an arcing force, forcing One to slap it out of the way, so she could rip through the neck of the fallen soldier. Blood painted the grass a different color.

One was about to open her mouth to answer when the bud in her ear crackled. Thirteen's garbly voice spilled. "Get everyone away. Seek shelter in the arena."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. Or maybe he could. That boy never failed to have tricks up his sleeve. "Ten, Sixteen!" she called, grabbing the shoulders of two people who thought they could trap her. "Arena! Get the others."

Sixteen, the only one who could survive an apocalypse with her guts intact, turned tail and dove back into the fray. Eight darted overhead, peppered with sharp darts from someone who could control metal or something. Was there another Five in the enemy ranks? Let her hope not.

One spread her hands and punched her way past the warring sea of people. They have yet to see anyone from Section H, as opposed to Thirteen's warning. Must be engaged with other goals. The forest gave way to the eroded circle of elevated seats. Rock and glass crumbled, but it'd hold. Probably. It couldn't be that big, right?

The rest of the fighting unit joined One on the arena's base, hiding behind the foliage rustling with the forces whipping around. That was Six, Ten, Eight, Sixteen, Twelve, and Seventeen. She pressed her finger to her ear, activating a strange static hum inside. "Thirteen, we're in position."

Another crackle. "Hold."

One's nails scratched against the tree's trunk, but she stayed put. There were lessons to be learned, and with Thirteen, most of those would not be said aloud. Whatever that twig was planning, it better be good.

Five braced her hips, eyeing the erupting chaos around them. The red-gold barrier courtesy of Seventeen flickered against the bright sun, the red lights tingeing the sky and the nearby buildings' warning signals turning it almost invisible. Her ears never stopped ringing, the monotone blares combining with the static hum of the comms. Thirteen checked in once in a while, urging them to move faster.

The counter wouldn't last forever, and if they wanted to establish their presence, they had to do this before the red lights ebbed away. She understood the urgency. What she didn't was Thirteen being an absolute prick about it.

"Five, what's taking so long?" Speak of the devil. "You have been at it for fifteen minutes and twenty-four seconds. An average counter lasts for thirty."

That was plenty of time, but considering the magnitude of havoc Thirteen had in mind, it wouldn't suffice. Five ignored him instead, turning to Seven who passed Four and Fifteen their share. Only a few yards were left, and they would have closed the circle around the fortress' foundation. Thirteen was right. They didn't want to accidentally blow up the building's base and risk losing their command center inside. As much as Thirteen grated Five's nerves, he was the only one they had if they wished to have a winning chance.

Twenty flinched at the streak of lightning sparking across the sky. That has got to be someone from Section L. Those fools could either be fools or ill at ease. Whatever it was, Thirteen could pluck them off the playing field as easily as spearing a cherry from the bunch. Move. They have to move.

The process was painfully slow. Moulds formed at their boots with every pocket they tilled into the ground. Weeding the grass was another hurdle, but Five resorted to digging straight through the spiky blades. Three would heal them later if those proved to be poisonous. Seven brandished a shovel and jabbed it into the soil. Five sighed and snipped her hair, fashioning more shovels out of her strands. She would run out of energy even before the fighting reached her, and it wasn't an ideal situation.

If push came to shove, she knew why Thirteen stationed her here instead of the fighting unit. Should One and the others fail to keep the attackers at bay, if Karrel from Section H and her cohorts show up, Five was the best bet in being the last line of defense, pushing this essential part of the plan to completion. She couldn't afford to be tired this early in the game, and the situation kept on finding multiple ways to make sure the exact thing happened.

"Have Four get into position," Thirteen ordered from the comms. Five stalked towards the ice user and tapped her on the shoulder. The girl backed away, knowing where she was needed at the point of detonation. "Status?"

Five glanced at the near-empty crate beside Fifteen. Having telekinesis must have made her life a whole lot easier. What a blessing. "Almost there," she said.

"Exact measurements," Thirteen snapped. "I don't have eyes everywhere."

She rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be doing something about it now?" she fired back. "Three more."

If Thirteen was irked by anything she said and by her tone, he didn't show it. "Hurry," was all that bled through the comms, worming straight into Five's brain.

A minute passed. Two. Three. Four...

Seven shot up, followed by Fifteen and Twenty. "Done," Seven said, wiping the sweat beading on his hairline with his forearm. His hands glinted with streaks of dirt, and it's going to take a while washing it out of his nails. Ugh. "Where to?"

"We're done," Five blurted to the comms. "Moving to a safe distance. Awaiting word."

No one answered back, but they continued scrambling back, flitting somewhere near the ring of battle. The line of trees surrounding the fortress was a good cover, and they had enough working abilities to counter an ambush provided it wasn't Section H. According to Thirteen's simulations, only a handful of abilities and people need their caution, and most of them weren't spotted within a mile's radius of the attacks in the central region.

"Thirteen, we're in position," Five said, stepping underneath the shadowy parts of the forest floor. The undergrowth would do their job of hiding most of them, at least. "What's taking so long?"

She snuck a glance from the trunk, noticing the dots of color approaching the building. They thought it was abandoned and it was free to take. Her fists clenched at her sides. What's wrong with Thirteen? Why did he push her around to hurry and yet take longer to actually trigger it? What was he planning?

"Fighting unit is in position," Thirteen said. "Have the switch ready. Hold."

Five dug the thin canister from her belt. It connected to the shells they stuck to the ground the same way all their comms rerouted to the command center. It couldn't be detected by signal jammers, but if the enemies could sense forces and EM, that'd be a hitch. But, before they could cry out, they'd be toast, so...no harm there. Her finger hovered over the red button at the canister's top. Come on. Come on.

"On three," Thirteen coached. "One."

"Two," Five muttered under her breath.

"Three."

Her thumb jammed the button. A louder force drowned the counter's siren as the ground burst outward in a wave of dust and blazing fire. With a few seconds' delay, the deafening roar of rocks cracking and leaves fizzling punched the comms' signals into mad static. Five threw herself against the rough trunk she hid behind, her hair wafting across her face in agitated slaps. Small whimpers behind her vanished with the havoc happening in slow motion a great distance from them. It was only a matter of time...

A dust storm slammed down on them, painting the air and the sky thick with brown and black particles. The smell of burning flesh and upturned earth mucked the horizon. Five's throat filled with silt and dirt, causing her to shut her eyes and hack. A distant hiss faded with the wind as the aftermath calmed, leaving behind the evidence of what they had done.

When the murky clouds parted, a circular trench three people deep surrounded the fortress. Spots of color brushed with the distinct shade of brown wiggled from the rubble, only to fall back down, shards of ice sticking from their bodies. That was Four's job. Those who survived and gathered enough strength to stand or stagger away ended up with smoking holes in their foreheads. Fourteen must be grinning like hell in her conservatory.

The comms crackled again, and when Thirteen's voice filtered through, Five swore she heard a bit of pride laced around the tone. "Counter finishes in six," he said. "Seconds."

Five didn't bother counting. Thirteen would probably be right. "Orders to return?" she asked.

"Granted," Thirteen answered. "See you at dinner."

A smile pulled at the corners of her lips at that. Something as simple and silly as meals were almost ironic after witnessing someone bomb up an entire complex. "Of course," she said anyway. Dinner better be ready when she stepped past the front door.