Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sharp cracks of core-fire rang out continuously through the alley. Having managed to suppress his crippling fear, Graves locked into his stance and was fairly successful in injuring and taking down a few of the beasts. In reality, these minor predators were nothing more than free evaluation points for individuals with gene locks opened like the rest of his team. A single, well-placed shot from their rifles was more than enough to end a creature's life. However, because Graves severely lacked the supernatural agility and heightened sensory perception of his peers, he couldn't rack up kills at their pace. Fortunately, amidst the chaotic storm of gunfire, no one had the spare time to notice his low numbers.
Popping out an empty magazine, he slammed a fresh one home. "I have one mag remaining!" Graves shouted over the deafening roar of the firefight.
"Switch to semi-automatic!" Apollo bellowed back, smoothly drawing a high-caliber sidearm to execute a devil that had lunged too close when his primary weapon ran dry. "One shot, one kill! Minimize your output, maximize fatality!"
Graves immediately toggled his rifle's fire selector, continuing to discharge precise rounds at the most immediate threats. These primitive creatures didn't possess long-range attributes or specialized genetic mutations; they were merely biologically enhanced predators driven entirely by primal hunger. Capitalizing heavily on their predictable, animalistic behavior, the squad completely controlled the choke point, dealing catastrophic damage and forcing the horde's numbers into a massive, rapid decline.
Glancing to his right, Graves watched Gamby completely dominate her sector, effortlessly bringing down clusters of monsters and occasionally crushing a stray devil's skull flat beneath her heavy combat boot.
To his left, Julius moved like a fluid, seamless phantom, erasing every threat that entered his perimeter with an eerie, effortless calm.
Just as Graves prepared to re-engage, a lone devil caught him completely off guard, lunging out from the dust cloud with terrifying velocity. Graves's human reflexes frozen; he was completely incapable of reacting in time.
Crap!
BANG!
A deafening, cannon-like report shattered the air. A high-velocity round pierced the devil from the flank, exiting its opposite side in a spray of gore. The kinetic shockwave of the impact was so immense that it violently blasted both the carcass and Graves backward. Graves sailed through the air, slamming hard into a concrete wall before collapsing to the ground, coughing up a metallic spray of blood.
His savior was none other than Winter. Perched high above the battlefield, her specialized anti-materiel sniper rifle was inflicting systematic devastation across the entire sector, picking off targets in the squad's blind spots with astounding, lethal precision.
An hour later, hundreds of lifeless, green-blooded devil carcasses littered the shattered pavement. Four exhausted figures stood amidst the carnage, their trembling hands barely clinging to the grips of their rifles. Graves, Julius, Gamby, and Apollo had survived.
"Damn it, there were way more of them than the briefings predicted," Julius panted, wiping a thick layer of slimy, green blood from his cheek. He looked visibly irritated by the filth. "Needless to say, we reaped a massive haul of evaluation points without taking a single casualty. What a win."
"Hahaha! What's the matter, roomie? Are you seriously about to throw up over a couple of basic D-Class devils?" Gamby teased, collapsing heavily onto a intact piece of masonry, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.
"Get a moment of rest, but keep your eyes open. We are still pushing east," Apollo commanded, remaining on his feet as he scanned the perimeter for secondary waves. He tapped his earpiece. "Winter, what's the status of our immediate perimeter?"
A moment later, her sweet, melodic voice crackled smoothly through the pod. "Perimeter is completely dark. We're clear for now, boss. I'll keep watching from overwatch." The line went silent.
As the frantic rush of adrenaline finally began to drain from his system, Graves slumped entirely onto the debris-strewn floor, completely winded.
"Hey, why are you looking so completely exhausted, little pumpkin?" Julius asked mockingly, staring down at him from his own resting spot. "Aren't you supposed to be proving me wrong out here?"
Graves wiped the trace of blood from his lip and offered a sharp, defiant smirk. "Last time I checked, you're the one whose face is completely covered in monster slime. Honestly, the green look actually suits you. I barely see any difference between how your face looks right now and how it normally looks anyway."
Julius's jaw dropped, his face instantly flushing with annoyance. Gamby burst into a loud, booming laugh, while Graves smiled quietly to himself, knowing his roommate was absolutely fuming inside.