A two story, blue house sits on a street corner, with police cars surrounding it. The sirens have long been silenced. Inside the house, in the basement, are four masked creatures. All that could be made out from them is that they are all equine-like, heavily armed, and carrying different equipment. One has grenades, two have a backpack, and one has some throwing knives. The basement was a last resort for this group. The basement is small, with various bits of junk lining the walls, and a staircase rising along the left side. It’s big enough to easily fit a car. However, instead, it holds the group of equines and a tied up griffon. The griffon is just a civilian, wearing normal clothes. He has been tied, gagged, and forced to sit in a corner of the room. The group of equines discuss something amongst themselves.
“The hell are we supposed to do now!?” One asks.
“Keep it down, we don’t need them to know we’re afraid,” another says.
“What we need, is to get these cops off of us!” The first one says.
“Relax, we have a hostage,” the third individual says. “We’re lucky that they actually care about griffons. Now, we just wait for them to crack.”
“How do you know we’ll be fine?” The second one asks.
“Easy, I already hacked into the camera feed of this place,” the fourth guy says. “Apparently, this guy wasn’t too trusting of his wife.” The griffon in question muffles something.
“Shut it!” The first guy says, aiming his rifle at the hostage. The griffon immediately backs down.
“Do we have anything from the cops yet, or are they still twiddling their thumbs?” The third guy asks the fourth. The fourth guy pulls out his small laptop from his bag. He opens it and quickly looks through.
“... Nope. Silent.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” the first guy says.
“Neither do I.” The fourth guy looks up and points at the first two. “You two, split up. Cover the upper floors and make sure they’re not trying something.”
“What if either of us get shot?” The first guy asks. The fourth guy furrows his brow at him.
“Move!” The fourth guy yells, making the first two scramble up the stairs. “For Celestia’s sake, you’d think they’d know better than to question me.”
“What if they do shoot though?” The third guy asks.
“We still have a hostage. They don’t care about how many of us die. Besides, if something’s up, I can look through the cameras.” With that, the fourth guy walks to a corner and sits down to easily access his laptop. He goes through the cams as the other one checks his bag. The cameras show the living room, kitchen, master bedroom, backdoor, basement, and the front lawn. He notices that the first guy is keeping watch in the living room, checking the windows. The other guy is in the master bedroom on the upper floor, testing the mattress of the bed. “Dammit kid,” he mutters. He decides to let it go and keep watch on the back door and the front lawn, switching between the two. “So far so good,” he says. He pauses as he sees something small quickly go across the screens. He squints his eyes, but he can’t tell what it is. He sighs, shrugging. “Probably just a fly.” He continues to keep watch. Silence fills the room for a good couple of minutes.
“Hey, what’s that?” The third guy asks. The fourth guy looks up to see a blinking cylinder with two wheels on each side.
“The hell?” He mutters. He looks down at the screen. “It’s probably just one the guys messing around with a toy or something. A kid lives here after all,” he reasons. He briefly flips through the cameras to see his underlings. He sees one of them is still watching the windows in the living room, but the other is laying on the bed he was checking out earlier. “Is that asshole sleeping!?” He yells. The third guy comes up and looks at the screen. He sighs.
“This is what you get for getting cheap help,” he says. The fourth guy growls and gets his gun. “Hey, keep calm. I’ll deal with him,” the third guy says, taking out a silenced pistol. The fourth guy sighs before nodding as the other one leaves. The fourth guy turns to the hostage.
“Feel comfy? I hear rope is a nice accessory for birds,” the guy mocks. The griffon glares at him in return. He chuckles and turns back to the cameras. He frowns as he notices that the guy in the living room is missing now. He flips through the cameras and finds the third guy who walked out. He’s crouching in the kitchen, cautiously peeking over a counter top. Suddenly, the camera goes out, and the masked equine could hear the small thunking noise of a silenced gun. However, he finds it unnerving that he didn’t hear any screams. He furrows his brow and flips through the cameras again. He checks the guy in the master bedroom. He silently gasps. He wasn’t sleeping, if the now-visible pool of blood was anything to go by. The lone equine takes up his gun and quietly hurries to the hostage, picking him up and using him as a shield. He brings up his rifle, aiming at the visible top of the staircase with one hand as the griffon freaks out. He feels paranoia settling in, knowing that whoever’s here, is about to come down here. “Whoever’s there, I have the hostage! I’m not afraid to finish this! I said I’d do it, I swear to Celestia I’ll do it!” He yells, panic becoming apparent from his voice. The griffon muffles out pleas for help, sobbing as he can’t take it anymore. “Shut up bird!” The masked pony yells. He suddenly sees a grey cylinder for a split second, making his heart drop. Just as suddenly, his vision is filled with white, and his ears are ringing. He drops everything and puts his arm up to his face to try and do something about his blindness, allowing the hostage to fall down. Just as suddenly as the flash bang, a thunk of a silenced gun sounds out. Just like that, the pony falls to the ground, a bullet wound clearly on his head. The muffled griffon continues to cry as another figure walks down the stairs calmly.
“Sir, all hostiles eliminated. Hostage is secure, about to leave the area,” she says. The griffon looks up to see a dark grey pony, wearing a black bullet vest, covered in gear and two weapons. One is a silenced rifle, and the other is a pistol. The rifle is smoking. “Also, side note, the shades were a success. First in-field use is successful.” She reaches down, and picks up the hostage. “Come on sir, we need to get you to safety,” she says, taking him up the stairs as he muffles out his thanks...
Princess Celestia, a tall white alicorn with an elegant purple dress, looks away from the board as the projection finishes. “This footage was recovered from an operation carried out two weeks ago. Visor managed to dispatch all four hostile terrorists. She, as well as many other operatives from the EIU, have shown exceptional talent towards dealing with threats of high levels.” Celestia takes a moment to read her allies. There’s Thorax, king of the changelings. He’s wearing purple armor, which looks horrible on his green and orange color scheme. Next is Ember, princess of the dragons. She wears golden armor over her blue scales. Next is the king of Griffonstone, Foulfeather, wearing a grey, long sleeve collared shirt and pants. His shirt has Griffonstone’s insignia on it. He has dark green feathers from what she could see. Celestia moves onto the prince of Yakyakistan. The prince of Yakyakistan, Rutherford, wearing white robes and a furry coat, is a bulking behemoth compared to everyone else. Finally, is Princess Cadence, a pink alicorn that’s a little shorter than Celestia. She’s wearing a blue formal dress. Everyone besides Celestia sits in a round table, watching her as she presented in front of a white board with a projection on it, showing the footage of the operator Visor.
This meeting is about the Uni-Five Initiative, an international anti-terrorist organization that is equally controlled by the countries partaking in it. About a week ago, the leaders of such countries were asked to bring operators that are highly skilled and willing to be a part of this. There will be a test of sorts to decide which operators will stay and which will leave. However, at the moment, they need to showcase at least one operator from their unit. “Now, who would like to go next? We only have a limited amount of time today, so we’ll only be able to see two others.” Celestia says. The griffon clears his throat and pulls out a small memory gem. Celestia nods and takes her seat. The griffon walks up and turns to everyone.
“On behalf of the griffon kingdom, we thank you for allowing us to partake in this, Ms Celestia,” he says politely. “Now, allow me to show all of you two of our top operators, Delta and Hotshot.” He forcefully refrains himself from grimacing, feeling dread as he thinks of Delta. “They’re... a little unorthodox,” the king mutters. “But they have been collectively chosen to be participants due to their exceptional skill. Forewarning, the cameras were finicky due to circumstances.” He takes the memory gem and places it in a small hole on the top of the projector. He steps out of the way of the projection, and watches on with everyone else...
The Griffonstone Bank sits between two buildings. The sky is cloudy. In the bank, in a vault, sits two griffons wearing ski masks, with their beaks peaking out. They are dressed in black, with bullet vests covering them. The vault itself is a small room, with bags of cash in the back. The walls are made up of many metal boxes, holding various valuables and items. The entire room has bombs hooked up in it. “Alright, are the charges set?” One asks.
“Yep. Everyone’s been patrolling, but the cops haven’t been responding to our threats,” the other says.
“Bullshit, they saw our goods, they have to say something!” The first one replies.
“Well, asshole, they haven’t!” The other replies angrily.
“The fuck are we going to do?!”
“We said we’d blow the place up, along with its money.” The griffon shakes a remote, showing the other one. “I wasn’t bullshitting.”
“Wait, you were serious?”
“Hell yeah I was!”
“Shit- Why are we in here?!” The first griffon panics.
“It was ride or die buddy. You said ride, and it’s gonna stay that way. Too late to back out now.”
“No, fuck this!” The first says. He starts to turn, but the other griffon pulls up his gun and shoots him down. The body falls to the floor, making the griffon smirk.
“Pissed me off asshead, that’s what you get,” he says heartlessly.
Meanwhile, in a brown carpeted hallway, two criminals keep watch at the windows. “... It’s awfully quiet out there,” one says.
“Yeah... a bit too quiet,” the other agrees. Suddenly, their radio crackles.
“We need eyes on the roof, we had a report that something strange was spotted,” a voice says. The first griffon takes up the radio and presses a button. “We’re close to the stairwell, we’ll check it out.”
“Rodger,” replies the voice. The griffon pockets the device and turns to the other griffon.
“Come on, let’s check it out,” he says.
“Hold up, something didn’t sound right,” the other griffon replies. “Didn’t our coms guy sound a little different?”
“It’s just your imagination you dimwit, now come on,” the first griffon says irritably.
“Fine, keep your cool, I’m going,” the other relents. They walk away from their posts, guns raised and ready for anything. However, they weren’t ready for the new intruder that came through the window when they turned their backs. The intruder quietly opens a window, pulls out a silenced pistol, and fires at the two criminals’ heads. This quickly takes them out. After the bodies fall down, the intruder silently creeps in. He’s wearing gear on top of his bulletproof vest, which is on top of his black shirt. Over his vest, he wears his dark grey hoodie. His jeans has a tool-belt of sorts, with pockets for extra gear. His face is covered by a pair of goggles and a black bandana, which covers his beak. From what can be seen from the uncovered parts, his feathers are black. His wings are covered in grey paint, concealing his its colors. He check around him and goes down the hallway to look around a corner to see if it’s clear. He pulls up his wrist, revealing a small mic.
“I’ve infiltrated, about to continue.”
“Hold on Delta, I’m about to join you. Find some stairs,” another voice says.
“Will do. By the way Hotshot, nice job taking out their comms,” Delta responds.
“Well, when a dude’s careless enough to just sit on the roof, they’re asking to be shot.” Delta nods, keeping his crouched level as he moves towards where he thinks the stairs are. “I suggest that you keep a sharp eye open. The place is crawling with scum and traps.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Delta mutters quietly, checking a corner. He stops as he finds the stairs. “... I’m not waiting here, up or down?” He asks.
“Down, just hold position at the bottom,” his friend replies, sighing.
“Will do.” Delta keeps his aim steady and heads down. However, upon descending, he sees the bottom of the stairs covered in explosives. “Damn.”
“What?”
“Lots of kaboom,” Delta replies. “Makes me wonder where they get it from.”
“Can you handle it?” The radio asks.
“Just get down here,” Delta says impatiently, reaching into a pocket. He pulls out a dull blue orb with a button. The orb has slight bits of circuitry showing through slits along the side. Delta presses the button and tosses it at the explosives...
Meanwhile, a lone griffon on the roof of the bank sighs as he hears static. “Dammit Delta, how many times do I have to tell him to stop messing up our radios,” he mutters. He’s wearing a brown hoodie that has dark red accents. Over his hoodie, there’s a black bulletproof vest with various pockets for gear, like Delta’s. He wears a pair of jeans that has gear strapped to it as well. His hood is up, covering his head. His face is obscured by a pair of goggles and a dark red bandana. He pockets the communications device and takes out his rifle. It’s a semi-automatic, with a thermal scope attached to the sights, which earned him his call sign as ‘Hotshot’. “Right, stairwell. Just have to find the stairs,” he mutters. “That’s going to be a bitch and a half...” He walks over to the body of the comms guy. He searches the body and finds a bag. He reaches in and takes out a small tablet. “Ooo, what do we have here?” He wonders out loud. He turns it on and smiles to see that it’s connected to the bank’s cameras. “Here we go, this will help.” He goes through the cameras, taking note of what he can see. He can see the vault, as well as who’s inside. The true leader of this little operation sits in the vault with a body that looks like one of theirs. Hotshot grimaces and continues to flip through. After a few moments, he nods to himself and puts down the tablet. “Time to see if Delta’s alive,” he mutters to himself, pulling up his rifle. He hurries to a small protruding building on the roof, which allows access to a set of stairs leading to the second floor. However, he’ll need to try and find the stairs leading to the basement. The main stairway is crowded with enemies and barbed wire, so that’s not an option. However, there’s another stairwell that’s mostly empty, other than the occasional patrol. It’s the same stairway Delta used.
Hotshot quietly opens the door into the stairs leading down to the second floor. He hears the footsteps of a few criminals. “Keep an eye out, whoever’s here is probably still around, I’ll phone it in.” Hotshot’s eyes go wide under the goggles and he hurriedly takes out a smoke grenade. He tosses it in their direction and quickly turns the corner with his rifle up. With his thermal scope, he can see the hostile easily through the smoke. As the three of them panic, with various questions ringing out loudly, Hotshot quickly shoots them. Various thunks ring out, and all of the bodies fall to the floor. Hotshot sighs in relief before the radio crackles.
“Hey! What’s going on!?” A voice yells through the device.
“Just an intruder, nothing to worry about,” Hotshot says into the mic. “They’re taken care of, resume as normal.”
“... If you say so,” the voice replies. Hotshot pockets the device and brings his gun back up. They found the bodies Delta left, who’s to say there’s only three of them up here? He continues his way through the second floor, keeping extreme caution in mind as he sweeps through each room before moving on. Finally, he reaches the stairs and moves down to reach Delta...
Meanwhile, the leader of the operation continues to sit in the vault, surrounded by money, explosives, and one former ally. He keeps a frown on his face as he stares at the radio. Something’s not right. Originally, he thought that having someone else be in charge of communications would be a smart idea. Now, he’s not so certain. He reaches into his pocket to get his radio. He leans in and talks into it. “Hey, everyone, is the situation under control?” The way he had set it up, is that the comms guy would be a sort of messenger. The comms guy is up on the second floor, making him a harder to reach target for any hostiles. The comms would receive the messages from individuals and pass them on to others. He’s basically a middleman. However, there’s a code to make sure everything’s fine. If he asks for everyone’s input, the comms is supposed to respond with each individual group’s response. They went over which group is which personally.
“... Everything’s fine,” the radio crackles. After a moment the griffon growls.
“Which groups?” He asks.
“...” Silence. He looks up at the vault’s entrance, making sure no one came to the basement level. Outside the vault, he can see a table that was flipped over earlier, the bars that were opened to access the vault, the hanging lamp illuminating the room, and he can see an entrance to a hallway to the left wall. He trains his gun onto the doorway and keeps silent. He knows there are at least four other of his buddies patrolling the basement, but he’d rather not be surprised. He also silently bashes himself for his own stupidity in making the comms a middleman act. He continues to stand in silence, aiming at the doorway. He can feel someone watching him.
Suddenly, he hears thunks, and the sound of something wizzing by him. He immediately ducks as a barrage of bullets come from the wall in front of the vault. He looks behind him to see that the bullets have literally gone everywhere, creating hundreds of holes and dents in the wall behind him. Just as suddenly, it all stops and an eerie silence fills the air. “... I think I got him,” says a voice the griffon can barely hear. “Proceeding to the vault room.” The griffon snaps his gaze back at the entrance to the room before hurrying to the left side of the vault’s exit. Getting up, he hides behind it, from the entrance to the room. He hears footsteps approaching. Slowly, the barrel of a pistol appears in his line of sight. The griffon stays next to the metallic wall of boxes, keeping his rifle up. The barrel seems to look left and right before backing out for a second. Suddenly, a dull blue ball gets tossed in. “Lights out,” a voice chuckles before everything goes dark...
In the room in front of the vault room, Hotshot sits in front of the wall of bullet holes, peeking through the various holes with his rifle. Delta just tossed in an EMD, and the entire room went dark. However, Hotshot can still see Delta with his thermal scope. Suddenly, he hears a voice. “Hold it!” Hotshot’s heart almost stops as he sees Delta stop moving. Delta’s hands go up. “What the fuck did you do!?” The voice yells. “The bombs, what did you do!?”
“...” Delta refuses to respond, simply standing there. Hotshot grimaces, trying to find out if he can actually see the hostile.
“Shit, they’re not working! Dammit!... You. You’re gonna have to make up for this.” Hotshot doesn’t like the sound of that. “Come here freak, you’re my hostage, go to that wall over there!” The voice demands. Delta complies, walking left with his hands up. Finally, Hotshot sees another figure walk out, highlighted with orange.
“You’re fucked,” Delta chuckles, making the figure stop.
“The fuck do you-“ Before he can finish, Hotshot aims for his head and pulls the trigger. A few loud gunshots sound out from the hostile’s gun before the body drops to the floor.
“Shit!” Delta yells. Hotshot quickly runs out of the room to get to Delta. He quickly brings up his hidden mic and patches to the main unit.
“This is Hotshot, main threat is neutralized, requesting backup and medical aid!” He runs into the room Delta is, hoping he’s not shot...
The king smiles as the projection finishes. “The Griffonstone Bank was quickly cleared of all hostiles shortly after. Delta and Hotshot were both examined and found to be fine in the aftermath.” Celestia clears her throat.
“Excuse me, but why couldn’t we always follow Delta?” She asks. The griffon sighs, face palming.
“Delta’s EMDs affect an entire room, including cameras, communications, and any other device that is electric and magic based. However, the effects are not permanent. For instance, the bombs were technically still active, but the EMD disables it for thirty seconds.” The king grimaces. “We have repeatedly asked Delta not to use the blasted things when he’ll be right next to them when they go off.” Ember scoffs.
“So, why did you only send those two specifically, they don’t seem to be too serious,” she comments.
“Delta and Hotshot are exceptional, cooperative towards comrades, and efficient,” the king says. Upon seeing Ember’s deadpan expression, he sighs. “I had also been skeptical of them when they were brought up. They’re very ‘charming’ individuals,” he says sarcastically. “However, they showed skill in training, they showed success across a wide range of missions, and they show determination in the field.” The king nods to himself. “I promise you, I am sure of their capabilities.”
“... I see promise,” Celestia says. Thorax nods.
“They seem to work well together too,” he points out. Celestia turns to the others as the griffon king takes the memory gem and returns to his seat.
“Who’s next?” She asks. Thorax clears his throat.
“I-I’d like to go,” he says, getting up. He walks over and puts a memory gem in the projector. “The changelings are grateful for allowing us to participate Princess. I’d like to show one of our top operators,” he says. “His code name is Buzz. This was taken when we had rescued a hostage and gotten them to an abandoned hotel. T-they were being targeted by a Uh... group of ponies. The footage was captured from a small camera on his vest.” He turns to watch the projection with the others...
The room is mostly wood, but the walls that have windows on them are concrete. There are only two windows in the room, on the left wall. On the right, there’s a door near the back corner of the wall. The room only has a table and a few chairs. The floor and plastered walls have small holes and cracks, signifying how old they are. There are two changelings in the room. One is the changeling hostage, who buzzes his wings as he has his wrists tied. “Is this really necessary?” He asks.
“Yes,” the other changeling says, putting a rag into the former hostage’s mouth. “Quiet.”
Buzz, the operator, wears a grey long sleeve shirt. The best he normally wears in on a chair next to the table. He wears grey combat pants, which has gear and pockets covering it. Buzz’s head has a balaclava covering it, with a hole for his horn and eyes. For his eyes, he wears large ski goggles. “What if I need to run?” The former hostage muffles.
“... You won’t,” Buzz replies, finishing up his handiwork. He places the changeling down and brings the table to be in front of him. As he walks to a chair that has his vest, his radio crackles, making him take it out from his pants and listen.
“Buzz, multiple signatures are coming towards you, are you ready?” A voice asks.
“Affirmative.”
“Do you require backup?”
“... Hostile count?”
“Ten, heavily armed, and there’s reason to believe they have explosives.” Buzz stands silently, processing it.
“...No backup. Sign off.” Before a response could be heard, Buzz turns off the radio. The former hostage muffles out questioning sounds. “Too much trouble. Stay quiet.” The changeling takes out a phone and starts tapping on it. He reaches into a pack he had set on the floor and takes out a wide, rectangular object. He quickly runs out, into a hallway. He turns right to the hall’s dead end. He walks up, places the object onto the wall, and presses a button. It blinks alive as he walks back into the room. He quietly closes the door and walks back to his bag. He takes out a couple black boxes with antennas, and walks to the windows. He places them in front of the boarded windows, turning each one on. He goes back to his bag and pulls one more out to place at the door. He looks around, thinking to himself. He finally goes back to his bag and pulls out another box. He places the device against the wall the door is on. As he does this, he hears a faint explosion coming from downstairs.
“Where are you!?” A faint voice yells downstairs. Buzz grimaces under the mask and takes a gun out from his bag. The gun is a small machine gun. He holds the body of the gun with his left hand and fishes out his pistol. Of course, both guns are suppressed. He flicks the safety off the pistol and holsters it. He flicks off the smg’s safety as well. “We know you bugs are here!” Another voice yells, sounding closer, but still downstairs. Buzz cocks the smg and looks towards the window as he hears something. He hears someone patting something down. He points his gun towards the window, ready for whatever happens.
“... What the fuck?” A voice asks from the window. “Why won’t it go off?!” Buzz let’s loose a spray of bullets. The board’s wood becomes dotted with holes. Buzz is certain he heard a good couple of thumps from the other side.
“Oh shit!” A voice calls from another window. Buzz quietly walks to the other window. “Pegasus down-“ Buzz let’s loose another spray, cutting off the other intruder. Seeing how the boards aren’t being broken down, he assumes the airborne intruders are dead.
“Fly? Fly!?” A voice calls from outside the room. Buzz quickly kicks over a table and takes cover. “Dammit! You bugs are going to pay for that!” Buzz merely quietly waits behind cover as he hears them pat something on the door. A click sounds... “The Hell?” Buzz hears. He leans up, sprays some bullets, and hears a thunk.
“Screw it, spray the walls!” A voice yells. Various sounds of gunfire sound out, scaring the ex-hostage. However, none of the bullets hit him. The table Buzz knocked over in front of the ex-hostage is made of metal, and it’s thick enough to stop most of the bullets. After a few seconds of gunfire, wizzing bullets, and quiet sobs, silence follows. Buzz pops the magazine from his smg to see it’s almost empty. He quickly starts reloading with a different mag. “Reloading!” Another voice yells. Buzz stands up and aims carefully. He starts shooting at the right side of the wall, turning left. In between thunks of the silenced gun, he hears bodies dropping. After a couple seconds, an explosion bursts from the left side of the door. Buzz drops his main gun and whips out his pistol, turning to the breached wall. He takes a few shots, scoring hits on a rushing stallion, instantly killing him. “Fuck!” Buzz ducks to retrieve his smg, and quickly reloads as gunfire sounds out again. The tied up Changeling muffles out distressed cries, clearly not happy about the current situation. When the gunfire stops, Buzz stands back up and vaults over the table. He rushes to the breach, turns the corner, fires at two ponies standing to the left, and quickly spins around to fire at the rest of the group. When Buzz runs out of bullets, the final body drops dead. Silence fills the room, not counting the ex-hostage’s whimpering. Buzz takes out his radio and turns it back on.
“... Buzz? There’s a sudden drop in signatures, did you win?” A voice crackles.
“Affirmative,” he answers.
“... Please confirm kill count,” the voice says. Buzz quietly looks at the corpses around him. There’s eight in the hall, one in the room, and two outside on the ground. Buzz walks towards a window, takes down what’s left of the boards, and looks down. Sure enough, two dead pegasi. He picks up the radio.
“Eleven dead. Two pegasi, nine other ponies.”
“Specify which of them are unicorns please,” the voice replies. Buzz walks back and counts.
“... Four.”
“... Alright, kills confirmed. Good job. The retrieval unit heading your way is almost there, stand by.” Buzz nods to himself and pockets his radio. He walks to the hostage and sits beside him. He takes out the changeling’s gag and lets the ex-hostage vent his panicked state.
“Oh shit, oh shit, I almost died! Holy fuck I almost died!” He panics.
“Didn’t need to run,” Buzz reminds him, crossing his arms as he faces the door to wait for the retrieval unit...
Thorax shudders a little as the video finishes up. The griffon king claps in approval. “Impressive, very impressive,” he remarks.
“Unnerving, but impressive,” Cadence says.
“Thank you,” Thorax says, smiling at the praise for his showcase. Celestia checks the time and sighs.
“I’m sorry, but we will have to leave it here. I’m sure everyone is busy?” Everyone nods, and starts packing things up. Quickly, everyone leaves, feeling satisfied knowing that Uni-Five might not crash after all...
Author's Note
Nice.
