TTT

It was on a plain battlefield of snow, T1 was in her tank. The TTT were up against sixty griffons, T3 was in the air. T2 was on the tank. The griffons had machine guns.

The griffons fired all willy-nilly; T2 was dissipating nearly every bullet they were firing. T1 fired a missile from her tank at the griffons; thirty-three of them died instantly. Thirteen of the griffons flew up towards T3; T3 started preforming a headshot spree on twelve of them, dodging the bullets. The fourteen griffons down on land were finished off easily. The remaining griffon, who had a set of prosthetic wings, managed to land a bullet directly on T3's jaw; she started bleeding like crazy from that area.

"T3!"

T2 then dissipated the griffon's wings, causing the griffon to plummet to his demise.

"Are you okay, T3?"

T3 was still airborn.

"Just a flesh wound."                                        /

The bullet was still in her jaw; T2 dissipated it.

"That'll do, know to move on. I can see a Zebra base up North from here, and I want to take it down by myself."

"If you say so, but what if you need help?"

"If I say it's Blue, then I'm completely safe. If I say it's Yellow, then they've found evidence of my presence. If I say it's Brown, then they've spotted me. If I say it's Red, then I need backup. And if I say it's Black, then drop a nuke, as it means I won't be able to get out alive. Make sure to contact me every 60 seconds, it's Black if I don't respond, as it would mean that I've died."

"Got it."

"All right, I'm on my way over there."