The Guard was a welcome weight on ScorchMan's arm, comfortably large and reassuring in its heft. It would give him enough room for what came next: a flash of fluorescent light more felt than processed, a second Battlechip slotted in seconds after the first. Griffin was barking in his ear, "Quick, get a clear shot at the tunnel!" The skittering was getting louder.
A quick pulse of heat sent hot air buffeting through the far room. Keeping the far room from being overrun was sure to be a battle decided in seconds; ScorchMan used one of the few left to scan the heat as it rushed against the walls, feeling for where it caught at the tunnel's mouth, and then it was time to run.
With a dark grey Guard held high like a tower shield, ScorchMan took one, two, three bounding strides into the room. His free gauntlet unfolded a set of long metal rods, already crackling; at the back of his throat, the pungent sharpness of ozone. Trying to track just one Mite was the wrong play - better to light up the tunnel and catch the swarm in the bottleneck, and clean up the stragglers. Only thing was, he was blind - but, thankfully, not helpless. The bore was a heat source all on its own, tangible even across the room. It was just a matter of reaching out to feel for the hottest point in the room, and letting loose the DollThunder.
For a moment Griffin was flash-blind, staring as he was into a screen full of lightning. He took a moment to blink away the worst of the glare, and returned to planking (it was still core hour). His chip-trading spree during ScorchMan's aborted busting run had landed them with almost more options than Griffin knew what to do with - it took a few moments just to remember what they all did. "Gotta keep throwing em out big, catch em while they're still grouped close," he thought aloud, mostly focused on his Navi (though, it must be said, his eyes couldn't quite stay off the other screen that had popped up, and the way Prose's, ah, dimensions were so perfectly framed as she clambered over the console). ScorchMan, for his part, leaned into his Guard and grunted his assent. Where was he again? Right, Battlechips. He shifted to take his bodyweight on one arm, freeing the other to pluck one from the lot and slap it into the PET. "Alright, Scorch, got a nice big bum - boom, big boom for you here," Griffin said. Unseen by his Navi, he brought a hand to his lips and blew his eyes wide for the camera for a playful, wordless 'oops!'
"So glad you're taking this seriously," ScorchMan snarked. Seemed Griffin was taking cues from Prose as far as the level of danger was concerned. It might have felt reassuring, but the arrhythmic skittering was loud enough to drown out any peace of mind. Still, the FlameLine was hot in his chest, and that was something. Feeling for the far wall was as much aiming as ScorchMan allowed himself, still facing the borehole, before stomping a boot down. A wave of heat sent embers scattering off the coal bed, breaking in a curling wall of fire against the lava's shore. "Alright!" ScorchMan huffed once the rush of burning died down, "What else have we got, Griffin?"
For a few seconds the Navi heard only a low hum of thought. ScorchMan thought his Operator was trying to choose another chips. He was incorrect; the chips lay momentarily forgotten, in favour of the much more engaging thought of 'what business does a Navi have going around with a butt like that?' For a guy whose definition of Navi had previously stopped at ScorchMan, it was a hell of a thing to contemplate. Griffin adjusted his shorts and resumed the thought: what else did they have? "We have options," he started, "but most of em aren't quite enough on their own. Either we start a daisy chain, or get more oomph from somewhere else..."
"On it." ScorchMan was moving before Griffin finished. The far side of the room was a swirling red glow, tangibly full of latent heat. His furnace, that inner welter of heat that defined his virtual makeup, longed to bask in that heat, knew in some wordless, instinctual sense that he could channel the energy seeping from the coalbed. He could even make more if he chose, immolate the room at his leisure, but for the sake of keeping Prose's console from taking any further damage, best to avoid damaging the facility if he could help it.
So, ScorchMan crouched low and felt for the Mites, listening for their scrabbling legs and keeping his Guard facing the worst of the noise. All the while he waited for one to commit to a lunge, and took the opportunity to dash past them, closer to the bore. Griffin would warn him if any started making for the breach, and he'd do his best to keep the Mites' attention on him. The thought made his teeth grind - he leaned into the feeling, let it fuel him as he roared out, "That lightning taste good? You want more? Well, go ahead and try me!" Heat swirled tantalizing just a little further, just one more leap and roll deeper into the fray, one more and you're there, just don't let them catch you.
-Turn Summary-
1.

Accuracy: S
Description: Generates a 1-Hit Shield upon activation. When this shield blocks one hit from a non-Break attack, it responds with a hyper-fast damage ray.
Duration: Until broken or overridden.
Element: Null
Special: Negated by Break. Ignores Impact.
Special: Reflect: Damage returned is equal to the damage of the attack blocked or the damage cap listed, whichever comes first. Reflect is not subject to negation by Impact.
Special: Status Guard: This chip blocks debuffs.
Trader Rank: C [1-Hit Shield, Reflect [≤120, Piercing, Line Attack]
2. Feint: dash towards bore-tunnel
3.

Accuracy: B
Description: Fires a powerful bolt of lightning that pierces through objects and enemies alike.
Duration: Once
Element: Elec
Trader Rank: D: Mite A [80 Elec {B}, Line Attack 5 aimed down bore-tunnel]
4.

Accuracy: B
Description: A wall of fire erupts from the ground, burning up to 3 targets.
Duration: Once
Element: Fire
Trader Rank: D: Mite Swarm [70 Fire {B}, Ground Attack, Wide Attack, aimed at back of Coal terrain]
5. Dodge towards Coal
6. Dodge further towards Coal