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Earth's oceans have withheld secrets for longer than written human history. The darkness of the depths is a refuge for a whole new world; hidden from eyes above. The waters around South America hold a new secret. It is a secret that kills. Not far from shore, a periscope breaks the waves and pointed itself at the coast. At the bottom of the periscope, the Captain surveys the immediate area. "Secure the mast," orders the Captain of the U-936 as he steps away from the lowering periscope. Taking his place on the raised platform of the conn, he orders," bring us down to 300 feet." "Diving control," echoes the Executive Officer standing on the forward part of the bridge," make your depth 300 feet, 10 degrees on diving planes." "Aye, making depth three-zero-zero feet, ten degrees down," replies the Diving Officer as he eases forward on his controls. The large Zeon submarine did a small dive into the ocean darkness. In the bridge, the captain held on to a handrail as the submarine finally levels off. The captain looks over his soldier. "Are there any sonar contacts?" "No sonar contact, captain," replies the sonar officer with one hand on her oversized headphones," we still have radio contact with the mobile suit team." The Captain then orders," prepare for firing procedures." The Executive Officer is at the missile control station with his clipboard. "Aye, begin rigging for launch. Missile control, flood vertical tubes one to eight." The seamen manning the console echo the order back as the Captain felt the sub shutter from the water filling the vertical missile launchers. "Open missile doors and prepare for firing signal." The tanks of the 183rd Armored comfortably rolled over the fertile soil of the South American continent. This patrol is nothing special and the commander fully expects to be back in base by tomorrow night. That is until the first mega particle beam blew apart the dirt road a few yards ahead of the lead tank. Immediately the Type 61s began to spread out, their turrets traversing. Something moved and the tank commanders knew it was a mobile suit. The Type 61s quickly gave pursuit after the Z'Gok, firing tank rounds at the fleeing mobile suit. They soon arrive at a clearing where they came under fire from an Acquy. It is too late for the tanks to retreat so they fire in volley at the Acquy, which fled much to their satisfaction. But then, there was silence. The Z'Gok had disappeared and so has the Acquy. One of the tanks popped their hatch and the commander stood up to look around. They don't a Type 74 with them so further pursuit would be difficult. That is the least of their problems. From the sky came a hailstorm of missiles, striking the very ground the Type 61s rested on. Caught in a killzone of epic proportions, the tanks exploded. Crews burn and the tank hulks are pounded to bits from recurring waves of missiles. Very quickly, nothing is left of the 183rd Armored, not even a tank thread link. Out at sea, the water kept its secret. A secret that will definitely kill again. "Okay, this looks like a good place to set up." The movement of three Federation mobile suits came to an abrupt halt at the sound of Ion Bossa-Nova's sweet voice, and both Ethan and Cecilia took the chance to complete a scan of their surroundings while they waited for additional orders. The GM Ground Sniper went down on one knee while gently setting the over sized e-capacitor on the rather lively ground. The presence of luscious trees and green vegetation, a seemingly rare commodity elsewhere in North Africa, eventually caused Ethan to speak his mind. "Impressive, isn't it? Not some oasis palm groves or anything, but an outright forest," he remarked, taking into consideration that only a couple hundred kilometers inland would show a vastly different landscape. The obvious tactical advantage of concealment wasn't much to to his concern, however. Manipulating the over sized beam sniper rifle into place, Ion responded, "It's better than all that sand we've seen in other parts, I'll tell you that much." The dark olive GM brought the stock of the weapon to bear against its shoulder and then supported the front with its other hand. A series of status bars began blinking red, then yellow, and eventually to green as the GM Ground Sniper's fire control system connected to and synchronized with the beam weapon's dedicated aiming module. Ion's deep red eyes darted around her cockpit, seemingly chasing any indicator light that gave anything less than optimal operating parameters. With every light that assumed a solid green state, her mind became increasingly more relaxed; rather, more calm than her already tranquil demeanor. Looking at a small system clock, the short pilot noted, "I'm getting six minutes till. Status report." "Sonar's deployed and working. I'm picking up normal activity in the direction of the mine. No mobile suit movement, though," reported Fredericks as he continued to fine tune the sensors. Moments later, Cecilia finally spoke her first words since they broke off from the GMPGT's group, "All's good. Just waiting for the fireworks." Ethan, on the other hand, merely articulated his mobile suit's left hand to display a thumbs up gesture at the sniper mobile suit before resuming his defensive posture a few hundred meters away. Ion smiled at his display as she focused her attention at a seemingly invisible installation far away. Letting out a steady breath of air through her pursed lips, she reached up behind her to grab the ranged targeting module, though she had to work a bit more than most pilots due to her rather unconventional height. Even the cockpit's seat dwarfed her relatively small stature, but so far no issues had arisen from it. Several kilometers off the coast of the state of Morocco, the Alab II maintained a circular holding pattern above the Mediterranean Sea, waiting for the precise moment to begin their trek to the target in question. Inside, three mobile suits lay side by side, sandwiched inside of the glorified box with engines, and each pilot was sitting outside their cockpits, discussing the upcoming assault and other non related things in an attempt to calm themselves. However, Hector Lagrama was looking forward inflicting some pain at the Zeon, even if it meant that they had to slowly starve the Duchy of resources to accomplish it. A few minutes of conversations went by when the pilots in the Medea's hanger could feel the plane right itself into a linear path as it began to fly towards the Zeon mine. Not a moment later, the Alab II's crew chief came over the intercom and said, "We are now moving to attack the mine. Please prepare yourselves," while looking at a small visual feed of the hanger. Seeing the individual pilots hop into their respective mobile suits and seal the hatches, the Medea's crew chief returned the mouthpiece back to its socket and tapped the pilot and co-pilot on their shoulders. "They're all strapped, let's go." The GM Ground Sniper zoomed in on the resource mine, causing images of the installation to become larger until they were of sufficient size for its pilot to discern the individual defenses that the structure had. The paltry assortment of cannons and anti aircraft batteries made Ion wonder at how such the Zeon could allow such an important commodity to be protected by such an inadequate system. Of course, she didn't complain too much, since it would only serve to make her and the Earth Federation's job easier. Lining up the FCS reticule on one of the cannons, she applied smooth, even pressure on the firing button, causing a bright pink beam to lance out of the beam sniper rifle. The stream of bright energy shot through the clear sky unimpeded, and it quickly closed the distance between the Federation sniper suit and the Principality's RF-2 mine. To the woman dismay, the beam did not manage to score a direct hit on the target in question, but it did manage to travel close enough to melt the muzzle of the barrel and sear the rest of the artillery piece. Certain that it was now unusable, Ion quickly calibrated her targeting module in situ while sweeping the beam steadily across the base. Another cannon became inoperable under the beam, followed by an anti aircraft battery, and the mine's communication's tower was felled in the process of sweeping the beam. Having expended its charge, the GM Ground Sniper gently dropped the long arm onto the ground and then stooped down to pick up its 100mm machine gun. "Nice shot, sis," remarked Ethan as he took a quick glance to his side, staring at the sniper suit. He quickly turned his attention back in time to spot a single large muzzle blast from behind one of the mine's natural defenses. "Crap, they're shooting back," he yelled, but before he could continue, he was cut off by a message from the Type 74. Talking a slightly accelerated pace, Fredericks reported, "I just picked up mobile suit movement inside the compou-" An explosion cut off the rest of the hover tank's message, sending the vehicle into an uncontrolled tumble further back into the forest. Cecilia immediately looked at where the Type 74 was, but to her shock she could only see a large piton sticking out of the ground that marked the tank's original location. She cautiously called out to the hover tank's crew, worried that she wouldn't hear an answer, but to the relief of her and the rest of the team's fears, Frederick reported being alive and that the hover tank only suffered damage to one of its ground effect fans. Another round was already en route from the base to the group, and it landed in and among the trees that the GMs were hiding in, blowing wood splinters and metal shrapnel up against the mobile suits. The distant shelling, however, left the experienced pilots ill phased, though Cecilia was trying quite ardently to hit the Zaku cannon with her rail cannon. Unfortunately for her, the rounds were not able to connect with the artillery unit and the latter continued to shell the Federation task force. But above the mine itself, rounds were already in the air as the remaining anti aircraft gun attempted to shoot down the offending Federation aircraft that was moving into a stable pattern to para drop its goods. Two of the Zaku II's began to fire their 120mm machine guns in the air in support of the lonely battery. The Alab II shuddered under the effects of additional hits against its air frame, having made itself a prime target with its predictable linear path as it got into a position to open its cargo doors and drop its mobile suits. Inside of the aircraft, Hector noticed the relatively dark hangar was becoming filled with light from the Sun, and the sight of rounds in the air only helped form a smile on his face. Chuckling, the corporal moved his head to both sides, popping the joints in his neck, and then firmly grasped his GMPGT's controls. No sooner had he done so, a large buzzing sound came over his speakers and the previously red light had suddenly turned green. The three mobile suits were slid out of the cargo bay in a staggered fashion, and in the span of six seconds, all three mobile suits were in free fall while the Dish tracked their rate of descent. "5000" "4500" "4000" "3500" "3000" "2500" "2000" The altimeter on his mobile suit was decreasing at an increasing rate as the GMPGT continued to plummet towards Earth. But just as the instrument read 1000 meters, the parachutes of all three mobile suits were violently ejected from the rear and the force of the retarding force jerked their pilots into their seats, causing a couple of them to mumble expletives at the uncomfortable effect. By now, the Zakus and the anti aircraft turrets were shooting at the descending mobile suits, and they managed to render the GM ineffective before it even touched the ground. However, the two GMPGTs were much more resilient to the ballistics, and they continued to come close and closer to the ground. Hector was having trouble firing at the moving Zakus with the beam rifle, since both he and his targets were moving, and the FCS computer was having some difficulty in providing a reliable target lock. His opportunity would come when one of the Zaku II's stopped to allow itself a more accurate shot at the falling Gundams, but right before he shot, the parachute's retro rockets started burning, causing the beam rifle to overshoot the target Zaku II by a wide margin. His remaining team mate, having equipped the wire guided missile launcher, faired much better at neutralizing one of the Zaku II's by essentially saturating the area with explosions and causing the Zaku's various cameras, weapons, and joints to become inoperable to its pilot. And just as he landed, Raja fired another missile at the remaining AA battery, causing it to become a mangled piece of twisted steel. Preparing to line up a third shot, Hector's concentration was broken by a voice as it blasted through the cockpit's atmosphere. "Corporal Lagrama! I need you to take out that Zaku cannon to the east of you!" All throughout the para drop, the Zaku cannon had constantly fired at Ion Bossa-Nova and her group while simultaneously relaying the pertinent information to the base's remaining cannons. Having expended her long range weaponry, the female pilot had to egress further into the forest with Ethan to protect the damaged hover tank from the incoming rounds at the expense of their own mobile suit's well being. Cecilia had managed to knock out the remaining cannon with a lucky shot from her rail cannon, but the Zaku Cannon seemed elusive to the high speed slugs being spitted out by the desert GM's weapon. Realizing the significance of the problem at hand, Hector used the parachute's limited steering ability to set a course towards the kneeling Zaku Cannon before prematurely detaching the retrograde rockets and falling in the air for the remaining couple hundred meters at the artillery unit while unsuccessfully firing a few more shots from his beam rifle at the mobile suit. Igniting his thrusters to slow his rate of fall just before impact, the GMPGT slammed straight into the back of the Zaku cannon just as the monoeye suit turned around to investigate the source of the beam rifle shots. The impact damaged one of the GMPGT's legs while causing the Zaku to face plant into the ground, ruining its 180mm artillery cannon. Attempting to get up on its remaining leg, Hector fired his vulcans at the now castrated Zaku cannon, but the Zeon suit quickly launched its smoke launchers in an attempt to mask itself from the rounds. The GMPGT stopped firing its vulcans and brought out its arm shield in anticipation of an attack, and just as it did, two missiles shot out through the smoke. The first rocket missed Hector's mobile suit, but the second scored a direct hit on the arm shield, shattering it and twisting its shoulder joint past its maximum operational stress limit. In kind, the GMPGT launched its own smoke dischargers to maintain the level of battlefield obscurity between the two mobile suits. Dragging its disabled leg along the ground, the Gundam finally reached its discarded beam rifle and single handedly brought it to bear against the now advancing Zaku II K. Seeing the suit aim its beam rifle, the pilot in the jerked his mobile suit to the left to dodge the first shot, but in the process he had caused the mobile suit to tip over on its side. A second shot from Hector at the now stationary Zaku cannon sealed its fate. Breathing heavily, Hector Lagrama tried to laugh, but his mini celebration was put on hold when he noticed the other GMPGT fighting the remaining Zaku. The green mobile suit had already severed the Gundam's free hand, and its blows were coming with such frequency that the GMPGT could not afford to reach for its beam saber at the moment. However, the more experienced Raja fired his vulcans at the Zaku II, causing the Zeon pilot to turn to its side and block the rounds with his shoulder shield. Taking advantage of this, the GMPGT pilot took out and activated one of its beam sabers just in time to parry another strike from the Zaku II's heat hawk. Backing off, the Zaku pilot tried to come in from another direction with the superheated bladed weapon, but his plan was foiled as another pink beam lanced through his steel mobile suit and put it out of commission. Just following the cessation of hostilities, an Hector was greeted by a less than happy Raja who began yelling at him, "Damnit Hector! You know damned well that I could have taken him!" "Hah," the corporal scoffed, "sure you could've. But why take chances?" A short moment later, he continued, "Check up on Reyes; he's probably still alive." "And the mine itself?" inquired Raja, unsure as to how they would destroy the compound. "Easy. Grenades." answered Hector before having his GMPGT toss grenades are various structures that were still standing around the base. Ion Bossa-Nova: 1 Days Damage, 9 VP gained, promoted to Sergeant Hector Lagrama: 3 Days Damage, 9 VP gained High atop the Eriu Tobias sat, his GM S Type's green and brown camouflage looking somewhat awkward in the backdrop of the Sahara. Slowly the Eriu lumbered towards Europe, its mission finished. Word had come in 30 minutes ago that RF-5 had fallen, and Zeons North African mining operations were effectively dead in the sand. All that was left now was to retreat to safer territory. Jet Core Boosters and Tin Cods, able to stay afloat for long periods without difficulty, watched for incoming enemy. The Guntank and its crew had positioned themselves behind the Big Tray to watch for any incursions, and the GM Ground Sniper, Long Rang Beam Rifle at the ready, sat next to Tobias. They fully expected, and were fully prepared for, any kind of assault. Cervantes Zuhr was a little less prepared. In total fairness, he hadn't been prepared for much of anything at all the past few weeks. South African diseases, Federal patrols, enemy operatives, a lack of arms and ammunition, green pilots under his keel and a testbed mobile suit that didn't work half the time, those were all fine. Little kids on the other hand... "You really shouldn't take any more of that. Bad for your liver you know." One of Zuhr's wingmen balked. They were already in their mobile suits, but it was assumed that Cervantes was hitting the whiskey. He said it helped him see god. He wished he was kidding. "Bad for your aim too, I don't think he needs to be worried about his liver." The Gouf pilot remarked, sitting atop Zuhr's Dom Funf's shoulders piggyback. They thought it would help them move to the target quicker, it wasn't working very well. "That SS guy was supposed to meet us an hour ago. He said he'd gotten reinforcements, he said he had a strategy." "Mr. Myer won't let us down. You don't know him like I do." Steel sighed, looking at the Big Tray in her sights. She had it targeted but given that they knew it was bristling with long range, anti mobile suit weaponry, taking the shot was too risky before a proper diversion could be established. However, Myer hadn't come. He'd arranged and orchestrated everything, and then simply not shown up. Steel found herself hoping Mr. Myer was okay, wondering if she should take the shot anyway. She looked through her viewscreen at the Big Tray in the distance, watching closely.... Just long enough to see all of its guns go off. Instinct kicked in as she threw her Xamel's throttle to full, blasting forward at a breakneck speed as the GM Snipers beam rifle cut through her previous position. Two seconds later a hail of shells landed all around her campsite, destroying her tent as well as the Gunship Heli and Dodai that were with her. Susan raced her mobile suit around, strafing as the constant stream of mega particles from the GM Sniper followed her, turning sand to glass and speeding past her position. As the beam past Susan pulled into reverse, kicking her quasi-mobile armors legs in front of her and pushing even harder on the throttle. The weird combination of lift created sent her mobile suit flying into the air, above the stream of death coming towards her. A few seconds later the beam stopped, needing to recharge. Taking quick aim, Susan lined up the shot and took it. The left edge of the Big Tray's air cushion was shattered by the fast moving howitzer shell, the ship reducing in speed almost immediately. At the same time the Guntank MPT's artillery fire found their mark, two heavy shells slamming hard into Steel's Xamel, all but disabling it. "Looks like we scared him alright. Lucky the Dish saw them before they saw us." Tobias laughed, leaping his damaged GM off the bridge of the Big Tray. Leaving the aircraft to defend the Eriu in case this was just a diversion, he and Cayden zigzagged towards Cervantes and his men, firing off a storm of 100mm shells. The GM S Type could carry twice as many spare magazines as any other GM, giving them a vault of ammunition to work with. 1 Zaku went down almost immediately, the second Desert type taking several rounds in the knees. It dropped to the ground, but still functioning, fired off several bazooka rounds at Tobias, the newtype dodging them rather effortlessly. Cervantes dropped the Gouf off his shoulders and brought his 880mm Raketen bazooka to bear, aiming carefully at Tobias. Heavily armored and able to stay relatively stable despite a ridiculous speed, the Dom Funf was more than a match for the GM S, 100mm shells only doing structural damage. The two pilots circled each other even as Cayden moved in for the kill, sabering the parapalegic Zaku Desert and then moving towards the Gouf as it tried to respond. "Alright... Come on... You can do it Cerv... You can- Oh Jesus..." Just as the green crosshairs over his screen turned red, identifying the lock, Cervantes' entire view of the enemy was obscured by the strange, half decapitated South American boy. He held his arms out, looking like he wanted to play. Cervantes, enthralled by this, his own personal little angel, started firing wildly, trying to hit Jesus with all of his resolve. A huge bazooka shell, powerful enough to pierce a Magellans deck armor, whisked right through the boy as if he wasn't even there. But he was there, because Tobias saw him too. A strange pressure permeated the air, the small boy holding out his hands to the Dom in front of him. He didn't really know what to make of it. For a few seconds the combatants looked at each other as if in a trance, the background of the Sahara slowly fading away. In that moment all Tobias saw was colors. Colors, and the strange little boy. "Sir they're all around us! We need help fast!" The garbled words of the Big Tray desperately cutting through its own M particle interference woke Tobias up. Cervantes still sick with his own demons, Obrien and Cayden turned back around just in time to see a Gaw turning back around way off in the distance. Their vision slowly moved back towards the Big Tray, and they became shocked at the number of Dopps and Dodai's already engaging the Eriu. Missiles went forward like a cloud, the Falcons expert pilots tagging Core Booster after Jet Core Booster. The Federal planes scattered, and three Dopps went down in the initial firing, but they simply didn't have enough numbers to take out a dozen Zeon fighter craft with better pilots. Vinsko and Martel picked off plane after plane with their 120mm's, covering each other at the same time. Much like other Zeon pilots this day, Andrews mind wasn't really on his work. Thoughts of South Africa, thoughts of Martel, thoughts of Stulinger, thoughts of his lost fleet, and a picture of an old Arab man branded a terrorist filled his head as he looked down at the Earth Federation battleship encroaching in Zeon territory. The GM Sniper fired its beam rifle again, but Andrew was faster, leaping into the air just as the MPC cut through the Dodai beneath him. Vinsko landed his Zaku on a Jet Core Booster and leapt off it again, the plane lurching from the loss in altitude and crashing violently into the sand. Dropping his 120mm and grabbing a heat hawk, Vinsko landed on the bridge to the Eriu, cutting the Luna Titanium armored sniper GM in two. Reaching onto his back weapons rack for his missile launcher, he pointed it straight down, firing shell after shell into the bridge of Obriens ship. The Big Tray was already completely unsalvageable by the time the Guntank pilot got his wits about him, firing his machineguns into Vinsko's back. Andrew leapt away just as Martel came flying off her Dodai, slamming into the Guntank's fragile cockpit with a swift dropkick. Shocked both by the mysterious scene behind him and the exploding battleship in front of him, Tobias decided that discretion was the better part of valour, he and Cayden using their mobile suits superior speed to make a hasty retreat. Andrew Vinsko - 8 VP gained, 2 days damage Cervantes Zuhr - 9 VP gained, 1 days damage 3 days injury, Hatred specialization gained Susan Steel - 5 VP gained, 4 days damage Tobias Kendrick Obrien - 7/2 VP gained, no additional damage, +1 NT Petty Officer Candice Ro gazed awkwardly at the few lines of text that had appeared on the monitor in her quarters on the cruiser Sleipner. The complicated Federal Forces GUI and proprietary operating system had disappeared, reducing the screen to a green-texted terminal output. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME |(^_^)|? [] She continued to ponder the implications of answering; this type of message hadn't appeared any time she could remember. It was all very strange. She gave the back of her short hair a scratch, mulling the thought around a bit. "Well, why not..." she admitted to herself at last, sitting down at the chair and placing her hands on the keyboard. I could use a bit of R-and-R what with all the tension going around, anyway. Okay. \(^_^)/! [] "...huh," Candice said, crossing her arms and waiting to see what happened next. Onboard the nearby Valley Forge, Ensign Gerhilde von Schirmjager's ears perked up at the sound of a thrumming noise coming from the machine behind her. "Was ist das...," she said, turning to face the window where Jamitov's brainchild, the Zephyr Phantom Unit 1, could be easily viewed. The mobile suit's reactor had powered up, and based on the displays Gerhilde had been familiarizing herself with at Lieutenant Chan's behest, the AI was beginning to function at combat levels. "Lucy, what are you doing...?" Candice chuckled out loud. The screen had gone dark for a moment, then reappeared with a line drawn down the center. Four brackets appeared in pairs at each end of the left-right axis, and a single asterisk sprung into existence next to the left-most pair. READY |(^_^)|? [] Yes. Candice placed her hand on the trackball, and the asterisk began travelling across the screen at a roughly forty-five degree angle. Quickly working the trackball with her long fingers, the pair of brackets on the right side of the screen slid down, blocking the asterisk's path off the right edge. It bounced off and began returning to the left, now at a slightly higher angle and somewhat faster. The left-side brackets - or "paddle", as Candice remembered - began moving as well, and it too quickly bounced the asterisk back into play. A few flicks of the finger and Candice's "paddle" moved upwards, catching the asterisk once more. It picked up speed with every bounce, and several screen thresholds later was moving very, very quickly. Candice misjudged the distance of her paddle ever so slightly and the asterisk zipped off the screen. "Hey..." she began. Two numbers - a 1 and a 0 - appeared on either side of the line at the top of the screen. Text cut in briefly. I WIN \(^_^)/! [] "That was just the first round," Candice remarked, disregarding the fact that the terminal interface likely was not using any sort of audio pickup. She clicked the buttons on the trackball a few times, and the text disappeared, replaced with an open screen again, looking much as it did when the game began, except now prominently sporting the score. The asterisk resumed moving. "I'll even that up real soon, just you wait." Candice began expertly maneuvering the trackball again, swiftly countering her opponent's manipulations of the ball-standin-asterisk. The asterisk zipped across the screen, bouncing back and forth at speeds Candice's eyes strained to follow. She was already moving the paddle again when the asterisk simply disappeared off the edge of the screen. "...hah!" she exclaimed. The score title changed: 1 | 1. BEST 2 OF 3 |(-_-)|? [] "Heh heh heh, you've got it," Candice grinned mischievously, clicking the trackball again. "What is going on here..." Gerhilde muttered, pouring over the consoles before her. The input terminals were simply blank, and the "cute" expressions it had been showing earlier were noticeably absent. The status indicators were still on and functioning, though - it indicated with abundance that the Phantom was in full combat mode, and rapidly switching between offensive and defensive protocols as quickly as its programming would allow. Gerhilde noted, with some relief, that the mobile suit itself hadn't budged. She was beginning to grow worried about the heat generated by the AI system, however... it wasn't redlining, but it would be soon. "Crew chief, get Lieutenant Chan, quickly," she remarked, returning the headset to its cradle. Then, suddenly, the power dropped off precipitously, returning to its baseline consumption rate in a matter of moments. Gerhilde was bewildered. "...cancel that order." "Ah hah! I win again!" Candice exclaimed, almost jumping in jubilation. A not insignificant amount of sweat had accumulated on her brow from the incredibly fast-paced game, but the score now abundantly proved her victory: 1 | 2. JUST LUCK |(>_<)| [] "Oh, you say that now!" Candice grinned, returning her hands to the keyboard. Give it up, you lose. THIS IS NOT OVER |(-_o)| [] The monitor went blank a few seconds later, just as Candice was beginning to type a response. The system rebooted, returning to the familiar GUI and Candice's pleasing color scheme. "Ah, sore loser!" Candice Ro - 1 CP gained, no damage Lucy - 0+1 CP gained |