All is quiet, save the creaking of the Net. Broken shells slough off the misshapen white mass to be collected by the pool and recycled - a few crumbs bounce away at odd angles to clatter to the floor. The white doesn't notice the waste, not when the land is rife with the trails of more interesting scents. It picks a thread, and the pool drags itself across the ground to follow; splintered hands and faces litter the ground in its wake. The Net groans and creaks.

The Egomorph feels nothing save the sensation of having sensation torn away, as the white plucks out their eyes, peels off their faces, crumples their skin like so much garbage. They are once more disembodied, and can only feel the ebb and flow of the tide. They try not to feel. They try not to think.

<(;grasping;third;iteration;)>

They return.

All around is churning white and a squelching noise, and bodies hollowed and bleached like seashells. They see all around them, through too many eyes - they moan, through too many mouths. The thing the Net called Hexadecimal has abandoned them, discarded them, resigned them to a reality in which they exist, and are present. The Egomorph contorts and writhes, and little else, for they are the white and the white is them, and the white has prey in its grasp.

There is no more predatory instinct, no more flanking and pouncing. There is only an ocean somewhere beyond the Net, and a tide of white waves to pummel and crash and wash the world away, bite by byte. Hex breaks over the Sledge like a shore washes a body out to sea: a remorseless white wave smashes down, empty of thought and malice. Ego watches, detached as only one whose hands are not their own can be, as the bodies caught in Hex's current rip and claw at the Sledge's aura.

Tide comes in, tide goes out. Tide comes in, tide goes out. Mass gathers and swells, more white rushing in from beyond to bloat Hex's net-side window. A wave rises, the bodies sewn to serve as Hex's hide raise their arms to the skies like a mockery of supplication - and yet, there is no malice behind the grotesque desplay, for Hex has no brain. It derives no pleasure from inflicting harm, but devours the pain all the same. The next wave comes crashing down - Ego's world is the thunder of the breaking wave, the muted rush of air through the barrel, the swirling and grinding of their body.

Tide goes out. Tide goes farther out. The pool of white stretches itself higher, yet higher. A tide is inevitable; one cannot fight it. Egomorph tried once, oh how they tried. They remember having strong arms, and agency of their body. They remember the calm that quieted the amalgam of her brain enough to cooperate, and fight back if only briefly, just enough to save one precious life. The virus before them is not a Navi, not even close, but they would still fight to keep the white back from it if they could.

They can not. They will not be able to save this one.

The wave breaks like a thunderclap - the world before the Sledge is reduced to a white horizon, and a battering riptide washing it out to sea. The Net itself seems to groan under the assault, straining under the weight of the mass from nowhere. Ego hears the world smash asunder, and moans. There is nothing else they can do.

=Turn Summary=

1. Half Charge Shot: Sledge [60 Null {A}]
E1. Watch
2. Buster Charge
3. Half Charge Shot: Sledge [60 Null {A}]
4. Buster Charge
5. Buster Charge
6. Charge Shot: Sledge [120 Null {A}]
E2. Listen

There was the virus alarm again, high and shrill to herald the incoming Mettank. Even no larger than Dignity's foot, the Metavirus still boasted more than twice the mech's vitality, to say nothing of the firepower it boasted. Phase glanced at the PET screen, still vacant; Vincent must not have heard. Reaching over the control bank, Phase killed the alarm, and...said nothing. Instead, she just cranked the temperature gauge and fired up the ice-maker, just like she'd done what felt like dozen of times by now. She had this. She had this, and she didn't need to be told what to do!

With a roar of gears and steamwhistles, Dignity stepped forward to challenge the Mettank. Rime-water poured from her shoulder down one arm, hyper-chilled to the point of turning thick and sludgy where it clung to the brass plating. Swinging her left grip in a long push, Phase directed the SetIce program the length of a long, arcing throw down the clearing, Dignity pushing out a wave of ice to sweep out and flash-freeze over the muddy ground, aiming for another patch of clear footing farther away. With Dignity's onboard systems translating Phase's intent into tangible effect, the resultant path was wide enough for the brass colossus to walk the length of, and Phase wasted no time in doing just that, pushing off with force enough to set Dignity's feet skidding down the ice at a decent clip.

Another charge of Dignity's engine, and Phase set the reservoir to churning a second time. More rime came gushing out, this time soaking the mech completely in a flash-freezing flood. Ice shattered around Dignity's joints where the mech pivoted and swiveled, leaving small waterfalls of frozen grit behind her where she slid. Her legs slid through a skater's routine, the smooth motion looking frankly bizarre on such a lumbering body. Yet Dignity did not falter, nor stumble. Her great feet ran smooth over the ice, leaving wide trails of friction-ground smoothness behind her where she carved a path around the massive tree's trunk, keeping the tree between herself and the charging Mettank.

Just as Dignity's skid had continued long enough to bait an attacker into leading their shot, Phase wrenched back on one control as hard as she could, while pushing the other as far as it would go. Dignity immediately wheeled into a ninety-degree turn, her feet pushing forward into a hockey stop. As quickly as she'd stopped, Phase jerked her control arms and made Dignity kick forward with her lead foot, spinning the mech in a tight pivot that was helped along by the slick ice underfoot. Her cannon was brought to bear on the more mobile CrazyRazy, tracking the virus where it flew unhindered over the ice. After a moment's consulting of the display screens, Phase jinked her grip up a notch, and focused on the virus' rider. Her free hand made for the gearbox's stick shift.

As Dignity's engine up-shifted, the noise of her massive gear-churning engine pitched up. The clearing filled with the sound of spinning gears, and the whine of steam-pressurized pipes. Phase's hands ran smooth over the controls, her face set in concentration as she aimed with her left hand. Dignity's cannon came up with a gurgle of pipes, while the mech's reservoir churned once more. Aided by the high-pressure steam, the flood of water came out like a bullet, aimed to shoot the Genin off the CrazyRazy's back.

-Turn Summary-
*SetIce [Large Ice Terrain running north to south, bridging two patches of Normal terrain]
1. Dodge onto Ice
2. Phase Engine: Solid [62 HP Casing; 1TCD]
3. Feint south down Ice, use Elder Tree for cover
4. Dodge back
5. Phase Engine: Setup [Take Aim, Strengthen 30; 1TCD]
6. Phase Engine: Liquid: Genin [40 Aqua + 20 Strengthen {A}; 1TCD]

The white writhed and surged like waves on the tide. As the Sledge closed the distance, the oozing pool reached back with glistening feelers. Bodies were pushed up to the surface, grey and hollow and gaping, and pulled into a gruesome tableau of skin and armour. Hands flexed open and shut like prisoners reaching through their cell bars, but it was only that reached through them, a prisoner only of its unceasing appetite.

All at once the tide rushed in. There was no rhythm to be observed in its motion, no thought driving the thing the Net called Hexadecimal. There was only the push, the ceaseless force which with the white reached. The Sledge was close, close enough that the white rising would seem a vaster space than any Navi (or something taking the form of a Navi) had any right to take up. So near, and yet so exotic as to seem a distant world all its own. The world hungered, and reached with voracious intent.

Just as the world seemed about to vanish altogether behind the white curtain, with an upsetting lurch Hex was pulled back. The Conduit pulsed with dim red light where it was lodged in the white - in moving its puppet, Hex moved itself. Ooze retracted slithering on itself, pulling out of reach and piling higher. It grew. It grew. It grew, and grew, and swelled, and bloated, and burst ribbons of white from its seams to splatter and spread across the ground.

The Egomorph stretched limbs and dragged the tide further back once more. It teetered high, high overhead, stretching vast limbs in every angle. Where did one aim, when the enemy was all around you? Where did one run, when the world had reduced itself to the ground on which you stood, and a great maw of a curtain descending all around? The white tide surged back in, twice over as heavy and hungry as its first lunge. Grasping fingers dove upon the Sledge like teeth in a gnashing jaw.

The tide pushed, and pulled back. Hex withdrew to slither out of the Sledge's reach once more. Mass pushed back into the pool under its own weight was built back up, dragged in and out of its window from the white world beyond.

-Turn Summary-

*SetArmour [40 HP Casing, Hex]
1. Half Charge Shot: Sledge [60 Null {A}]
E1. Dodge
2. Buster Charge
3. Buster Charge
E2. Dodge
4. Charge Shot: Sledge [120 Null {A}]
5. Dodge
6. Buster Charge

"Well! I should think that round went rather well, all things considered!" Vincent tapped a few keys and ran Dignity's collection engine, then rose to his feet, wincing only slightly at the extensive time spent sitting. "I'm off to make a cuppa, alright? I'll just be in the other room, so you can call if you need anything." No reply - Phase just snorted and set Dignity back to walking. "...Right, I'm off then." Awkwardly, Vincent stepped away to his kettle and busied himself perhaps overmuch going about his business. Waiting, perhaps, for even a smart remark, but there would be none of that.

Net-side, Phase felt uncomfortable in some wretched, impossible to pin down sort of way. While Dignity's temperatures were running nominal again, her skin still felt overheated and overly sensitive where her leather suit rubbed and chafed. With a cry of irritation, she clawed at her jacket's buckles until she was able to tear the whole thing off, plucking at the tank top underneath where sweat had soaked it to a clinging mess. That was better, she thought as she leaned back into the control grips, but still she felt itchy somehow. Absently her thumbs ran and picked at her fingernails where her hands clenched and steered Dignity. Out of this strange glass-and-magnet board the Mimic had warped her, and aimlessly out into the jungle the mech walked once more, trampling the grass under massive, brass-shod feet.

<(Searching for Battle #3, Dignity.CMD at 100/100 HP)>

Taking a deep, steadying breath, there was nothing for Griffin to do but ride out Prose's rejection. Rolling onto his back, he breathed deep and let it go with a rueful grin and an, "Ah, well," and that was the end of that. Standing, he finally made to leave the station gym, staring into the holographic PET window as he walked the halls into the bunkroom. Given it was midday, the room was deserted, and Griffin flicked the lights on and took up a desk, emptying his chip folder across the desktop and taking the time to sort them. His easy grin hardened into a more battle-ready baring of teeth, listening intently both to Prose's battle plan, and keeping his eyes and ears primed on the dim cavern. "ScorchMan, light up a little, will you? I need to see what kind of footing you've got," he ordered.

ScorchMan, quiet through Prose's strategy and only startling a little at the touch of his emblem, nodded without a word. As Prose gave him some distance, a venting of flame rose from his shoulders in a dancing pillar, casting its flickering yellow light deeper into the shadows than the lava's ruddy glow could manage. The foreign fire in his chest was strange, but familiar in a way he didn't know how to quantify. Would he have time to examine the feeling before the Myriad appeared? It didn't seem worth wasting time for in the moment, so ScorchMan resigned himself to one more unanswered question, and thought back to the first fight with the rogue program. What had worked, and what hadn't? What might work again, and what would the Myriad be ready for? As he felt his way deeper into the cavern, pillar of flame swaying and dancing overhead, he considered the Myriad's ferocity.

"Griffin, have a Guard ready, will you? And if it thinks it's down here repairing something...be on the lookout for anything, uh, broken," he murmured as he went. Was this entire cavern not a broken bit of Net-space? Hard to gauge what was natural here, if the whole thing amounted to one big stupid accident. While Griffin kept his eyes on the rocky walls, ScorchMan knelt down and dipped his hands into the magma where it pooled at the rocky shore, feeling for where it flowed, what it was flowing through, or around.

More alarms made themselves known, alongside a series of red warning lights spanning Dignity's control bank. "What the hell does all that mean?" Phase swore.

"Temperature's rising, must be a glitch!" Dignity's system readouts were a veritable maze where they sprawled across Vincent's computer, to the point diagnosing was as much guesswork as actual deducing. Thinking fast, he offered, "Try to keep Dignity's pressure down, you'll rupture a pipe if the steam buildup runs away on us."

Phase wanted to make a smart remark about Vincent keeping her pressure down, but there wasn't time to think of it. Instead she reached for the temperature dial and cranked it as low as it would go. Dignity's reservoir immediately cranked out a deluge of rime enough to spill to the ground and freeze underfoot, but the temperature of Dignity's internal pipeworks continued to rise unabated. "Well that didn't work!" she complained, shoving her shoulder into the right butterfly grip to set Dignity back into a strafe. If nothing else, the ice underfoot was making it easier on the mech, her gyros automatically compensating for the frozen ground and resolving the awkward stomping into a smoother, skating gait. All the while she eyed the temperature - even standing on ice, the buildup continued. "Vincent, how do I fix it before something ruptures?"

"I'm working on it! Just keep up the movement - wait for the cannonball virus to open up!" Vincent got another grumbled cuss for his efforts.Making the cockpit as complex to control had perhaps been an oversight, he mused as he watched Phase flail between controls. Perhaps the control scheme needed updating, but Phase was at least making it work for now, Dignity strafing across her icy runoff with as much grace as could be expected of a piston-legged colossus. From his view Vincent could see her aim: she was trying to put the Mimic between her and the DeadHead, so as to hit them both. Now she had a hand free to load the Battlechip - yes, there, Dignity's cannon was re-configuring.

Net-side, Phase found herself too short of breath for comfort. The heat in the cockpit was oppressive, and the leather of her pilot suit trapped the steam and sweat against her skin in a way that was quickly becoming unbearable. Her hands slipped on the hot metal grips - irritated, she wiped them on her hands and focused on aiming. Thankfully nothing was moving, she had enough to worry about without having to track moving targets, so long as the Mimic loomed before her. Instinct screamed to retreat and gain distance, but between the speed of the Mimic's beam and the effective range of the DeadHead, distance wouldn't make her any safer. Better to strafe, and try to line the two viruses up to get the most use of her Battlechip. She'd given the DeadHead time to try loosing a shot on her, now it was time to return fire before she had to see what taking a cannonball felt like.

The lightning rod Dignity's cannon had unfurled sparked with enough raw juice to destroy the virus twice-over, if she could just line up her shot, clenching the control until it hurt so as not to risk her sweaty hands slipping. Upon pulling the trigger, the DollThunder blasted forth in a jagged, fluorescent-bright streak, piercing unabated to the far end of the arena where the DeadHead sat. Phase could smell the ozone even twenty-some feet above the thunderbolt, blinking glare from her eyes as she returned her attention to the Mimic. Over the whining pipes she yelled, "Vincent, it's getting pretty damn hot in here! You got anything or not?"

From the speaker Vincent's voice crackled, "It's in your buster systems! Use Dignity's cannon on its own without Battlechips, and the pressure should let off." Without leaving room for second thoughts, Phase levelled Dignity's cannon on the Mimic and fired off a shot, quick and underwhelming as base busters always were, and with no visible changes to Dignity's pressure. "No, the - the secondary trigger behind the primary, hold that one down! That primes Dignity's reservoir for a charged shot!" She found the trigger in question, and was relieved to hear at least one alarm cut out. On the other hand, the temperature in the cockpit immediately increased further, as close as Dignity's cockpit was to the reservoir where steam was building.

With one final curse to Vincent's design sense and need to over-complicate what didn't need to be complicated, Phase contorted her fingers into the controls until she found the condition to fire, and wasted no time letting it fly. Dignity's temperature immediately dropped, all the pent-up heat and pressure converting into a powerful burst of boiling water directly in the Mimic's abstract face. Phase noisily gusted a sigh of relief, leaning back in her seat and taking her hands off the controls to scrub at her face. "Man, if that didn't do it, I'm gonna be pissed," she muttered, mostly to herself, but the microphone caught it anyway. Vincent sighed in reply, but didn't comment.

-Turn Summary-
*SetIce [Large Ice Terrain centred on Dignity]
*Overheated Buster* [Buster Charge]
1. Dodge right
2. Line up Mimic & DeadHead
3. DollThunder2Damage: 100 + Line-Attack5
Accuracy: B
Description: Fires a powerful bolt of lightning that pierces through objects and enemies alike.
Duration: Once
Element: Elec
Trader Rank: C: DeadHead, Mimic [100 Elec {B}, Line Attack 5]
4. Buster Shot: Mimic [10 Null {A}]
5. Buster Charge
6. Charge Shot: Mimic [40 Aqua {A}]

The white felt no pain. A noxious fog of static drifted from the holes in Hex's pool, the only sign any damage had been dealt as more bodies crawled themselves up into another heap. The Egomorph's body hung half-splattered, head lolling obscenely by a thin vein of neck left. Jerking erratically, they slithered into the husk-pile, oozing piles melding together with a disgusting slurp. Red light shone bloody through the buzzing grey fog. [COMMAND: REPLICATE] came a voice from below, a tortured approximation of speech that seemed to grind from the Net itself. The haze of static slowed as the holes in the white closed themselves.

Red light flared ever brighter. [COMMAND: ACTIVATE] came the awful voice again, as though the Net were being forced to translate the white's intent, and suffering for it. The exotic matter of the white was fed into the Conduit where it hung at Egomorph's back, foreign energy flooding the Net until the intrusive light took root and sprouted a fruiting body. All the while, the pool flowed in a sickening jerk off the metal terrain. The white felt no pain, but as long as the red light of its brain shone, it could think.

A surge rose from below. Bubbling, writhing coils crawled from rents in the husk-body, bloating the skin from beneath, fingers cracking as they were made to grasp and flex. Like flowers to the sun, the hands turned to the Sledge where it stood lone, defiant before the onslaught. Like flowers to the sun, they bloomed, fingers unfurling into petals of tongues and teeth. The white frothed and churned in anticipation.

Like flowers to the sun, they feasted. The light of the Sledge's aura could be torn into and digested as easily as bones and meat, and the white was eager for a taste. A braided coil of arms was brought to bear, split all along its length with slavering maws. It chewed as it lashed, lashed as it chewed, seeking not just an opening, but to inspire the fear of an encroaching predator. Why did it seek out the fear? It was impossible to say.

Still the static seeped, grey and noxious. From a rent the Sledge's hammer had managed to smash open, a man's head spurted free. Fog spewed freely from its gaping mouth, which gnashed until its teeth were jagged splinters. As the braided coil receded, the toxic flail was whipped at the Sledge on a long, oozing neck, looking to bite and spread its gaseous venom further.

Hex receded, leaving the head hollow and dead to be smashed like brittle china. The white tide writhed and surged, growing yet larger, yet deeper.

*SetArmour [40 HP Casing, Hex]
1. Equip Egomorph [Encase]
E1. Command: Replicate [30 HP Healing: Hex, Egomorph; 2TCD]
E2. Command: Activate [Random Effect; 1TCD]

2. Dodge onto Normal
3. Buster Charge
4. Half Charge Shot: Sledge [60 Null {A}]
5. Entry: Sledge [80 Null {A}, Break, Glitch; 3TCD]
6. Buster Charge

Dignity's virus alarm had several levels of urgency, increasing threats corresponding to increasingly clamorous claxons in the cockpit. Electric viruses threw the rating up several notches automatically, to say nothing of the immediate threat of the Mimic and the sudden relocation it triggered: Phase's yell of consternation was almost wholly drowned out in noise. Vincent was able to make out, "What the HELL, VINCENT?" alongside several curses he'd definitely never used around her. Dignity nonetheless lurched into a rushed sidestep, engine revving with a wild howling of steam. As the claxon finally died off, the clamour shifted into the clanging percussion of hammering piston legs.

Mindful of the Scarecrow more than anything, Phase cranked the temperature gauge to its lowest point and turned on the ice machine. She was careful to keep the flow contained to Dignity's chassis, as any overspill onto the ground would only increase the danger of a potential electric shock. Icicles jingled where they hung from her brassy limbs, the iceover thick enough to repel a blow, but defence alone wasn't going to be enough. Thankfully Vincent was at least proving up to the task, as three chips loaded rapid-fire into Dignity. At least he was learning, she thought privately, and leaned into her targeting grip.

Dignity's shoulder cannon swivelled in its socket, feathering left and right in sync with flicks of Phase's right wrist. The AquaNeedles made for a simple projectile for Dignity's system; no modification was necessary to create the needles. The skyward cannon barked once with its muzzle pointed almost vertically, then dropped its barrel as Phase jinked the target marker back to the Scarecrow, and sounded off twice more. A threefold salvo of water pressurized into needle-thin bullets shot high, and whistled high as they plummeted towards the most immediate threats.

Again the colossal steam engine revved its gears. Sweat ran down Phase's forehead; it was getting hotter in the cockpit. Fast as she dared, she guided Dignity through another sidestep, the brass colossus pivoting a full ninety degrees to place its far foot behind it, arms wheeling wide to keep balanced. While the other foot swung to return Dignity to approximately where she'd started, Phase prepped another chip, this time priming the main gun to fire. The Shotgun needed a moment for the barrel to reconfigure, but aiming was a simpler matter of holding the cannon low to the ground with Dignity's massive reach, lining the viruses up and jamming the trigger. As massive as it was, the gun's report sent enough recoil up Dignity's arm to throw Phase hard in her harness, a storm of buckshot exploding from the initial round upon impact.

All at once Phase became aware of a pain in her jaw; her teeth were grit tight enough to hurt. Growling with unspent frustration, she forced her jaw to slack and rolled her neck. The last chip was familiar, and while Vincent hadn't named a target, with one glance at the readout the choice seemed clear. Dignity's torso swivelled at the waist into the farther reaches of its flexibility, gun arm still slung low at virus-plinking height. The Piranha was far from the most threatening, but the fewer viruses chipping away at Dignity's defences, the better. Her cannon loomed before the fishlike virus, wide enough to swim straight up - and so, too, was the ensuing cannonball large enough to bowl the Piranha over completely.


-Turn Summary-
1. Dodge sideways
2. Phase Engine: Solid [62 HP Casing; 1TCD]
3. AquaNeedle1Damage: 20 x 3 Needles + Variable Targeting + Drop Attack
Accuracy: B
Description: Three needles drop on enemies
Duration: Once
Element: Aqua
Special: Variable Targeting: Allows the user to select a target for each individual hit of an attack. This means they may strike the same target multiple times, multiple different targets, or a mix of the two as they wish.
Special: Drop Attack: This attack originates above the battlefield, and falls to the ground. It gains one rank of accuracy against High Altitude targets.
Trader Rank: D: Mimic [25 Aqua {B}, Drop Attack], Scarecrow [25 Aqua {B} x 2 hits, Drop Attack]
4. Dodge back to initial starting point
5. ShotgunDamage: 50 + Spread 1
Accuracy: A
Description: A gun whose shot penetrates an enemy to hit another one directly behind it.
Duration: Once
Element: Null
Trader Rank: E: Mimic [50 Null {A}, Spread1 to Scarecrow]
6. CannonDamage: 60 + Knockback
Accuracy: A
Description: A decent sized cannon with a single shot.
Duration: Once
Element: Null
Trader Rank: E: Piranha [60 Null {A}, Knockback]

The white's advance did not slow, no matter the obstacle. A husk-body was dragged up, the skins of three Navis sewn into an amorphous snare of limbs that hinged like a bear trap. The husk surged forward with the pool for a moment, then jerked to a halt as though unable to progress past an unseen line. At its feet, Hex's true body continued onward, a creep of white tendrils burrowing into the cracks between panels and disappearing underfoot. When the panels reinforced into a mimicry of steel proved too strong for easy digestion, the unmodified panels woven through them proved the path of least resistance, and in seconds every other panel around the viruses was a gnawed-out pitfall.

Passive, uncomplicated flooring was quick to absorb, easily rotted into more white slurry. The mass crept back into the pool, twice as large now for its meal where it packed in behind the husk. Tendrils surged into the empty limbs until they bulged from the pressure, enough that relaxing the seams on its back made it shoot forward on a tide of itself, chasing down the smaller fry to leave their master unprotected. With the Typhoon so close, it would only have time to register a flailing tangle of arms and legs before the jaw snapped shut.

The maw retracted as quickly as it had shot out. Bloated under its own weight, Hex slid unhurried in a loop around its hunting ground. Its aim was clear: it was leaving the Sledge for last, the first goal to remove the distractions that would keep it from focusing all of its attention. Still more white bubbled up in a snakes-nest frenzy, creeping Hex and its puppet further out of reach. Ego just bowed their head, unarmoured and unbodied, creeping low. They couldn't move; instead they were moved by the pool they protruded from like a body half-submerged. Couldn't move, couldn't feel. They just were, more Hex for the pool, more white to consume the world with.

The white's next target was clear; the Ratton was small and would crunch easily under its jaws, and Hex had eaten the ground out from directly under it. Yet it had given the virus enough time for the gravity of its situation to sink in. It could try to scramble back up to the surface, but doing so would only further expose it to the white's snapping jaws. Or it could stay cowering in its hole, and wait for the snapping jaws to descend from above, with absolutely nowhere to run. Hex would stretch its body out nonetheless, a long coil of tendrils connecting its jaw to the oozing main body where it stood at the hunting ground's edge.

The white continued to circle. Ego felt it moving, erratic despite its sluggish build. Still it showed no hint of urgency, despite the dire speed at which its trapping jaws sprang out. Ego could only wonder why - and then, as the white filled her head and seized control of the Conduit through her, she was utterly gone, bereft of consciousness. There was just Hex, stretching high and pouring into the Conduit. As it was processed into the relic, a strange gravity bloomed within the two rings, increasing in intensity until the air shone a dim red. The Net had no natural procedure for such stimulus: time would tell what would manifest.

*SetArmour
1. Assembly [Large Broken under viruses, Buster Charge x2, Self Slow]
2. Full Charge Shot: Typhoon [120 Null {A}]
3. Dodge right around Broken
*One For All [Link Hex & Ego's HP, damage split evenly]
E1. Dodge Back
4. Buster Charge
5. Half Charge Shot: Ratton [60 Null {A}]
6. Dodge around Broken
E2. Dodge