Around them, the dome cracks and shatters, fading into nothing and the Behemoth leaps over the edge and vanishes into the darkness of a nearby cave system. Satt stumbles to his feet and cocks his medigun, hurrying over to the Support and pulling the trigger. The green light surrounds him, bathing him in a healing glow, and Satt watches as the Support lifebar in his viewfinder slowly increases. “He should be all right,” he informs the Trapper as she storms over to them. “Just let him get his balance. He most likely has a concussion.”

She snarls at him and sharply gestures towards the Assault. “Heal him, too, Medic.”

“I’m working on that, dammit.” Satt pushes past her and heads over, dousing the Assault’s burning armor with a glow of power, and then surrounds him in the familiar healing glow. “He just has burns, but he should be fine. He’ll be up shortly, probably with a minor concussion as well. Just don’t expect him to jump off of any cliffs anytime soon.”

The Trapper snorts. “He’ll do what I fucking say he’ll do, just get him up onto his feet.”

Satt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, but doesn’t argue. If she wants to get him killed, then it’ll be on her head.

Or not, he thinks only seconds later, when the bushes rustle and a massive Wraith leaps out of the shadows. Its claws rip into the Support, who is barely on his feet after the concussion the Behemoth gave him, and tear through the armor like it doesn’t exist, spraying blood everywhere. The Assault stumbles and screams, gun coming up in his fury and anger, and the Wraith whips around. Satt finds himself in the worst possible position, and he vaults over the Assault and straight into the path of the attack, gasping when the Wraith’s three tentacle-like tails catch him in the chest. They connect with such a force that he flies backwards and slams into the wall, sliding slowly down it as his vision goes black.