Not only does she leave Joseph with reopened wounds, not only does she leave him with two halves of his friend—to add insult, she also leaves the door entirely. Her footsteps echo away as the hooves of the bots come, replacing hers. Joseph wishes she sickled through the door herself if only to give her what is coming. He can't think like that now. His two remaining Ragtags remain baffled at the interaction before them. There is so much they don't know, but little time to explain. Especially with Joseph estimating that there's maybe only a minute left before that door falls.

No words spill between them as Joseph rushes for a hidden gun underneath a monitor that he saw earlier. No surprise, it was under Ethan's monitor. He tosses the gun to Hardcase who catches it like a baseball before taking cover within the underpass of the stairs. He then gives Heavy the blade that he once brandished; he clutches it tight like the towel to his wound. He joins Hardcase, pistol at his side, within the underpass while Heavy remains where he was treated, barely able to stand.

Right on time as their fingers clench the triggers, the door crumbles to the ground. They knock two down before they can enter with Joseph secretly hoping that one of them was the acolyte; however, she's nowhere in sight as four more bots enter the fray with many more closing behind.

All that first try to enter eat the dirt to the plasma rifle that Hardcase bares. Joseph's pistol adds support finishing off the ones that don't fall or the ones that decide to come back up. Their combining efforts start making the remaining bots take cover from the hallway.

Then they multiply. More bots start replacing the numbers with the fallen. More than Joseph's pistol can keep at bay. He then dives for the metal table, flips it over, and makes it his shield. The king that started the bad omens within Joseph's head yells for him to push forward. He does so, getting so close to where he can see their steaming red eyes. He takes all the flankers trying to sneak through while Hardcase continues firing relentlessly into the crowd. He only lets go of the trigger for a few seconds at a time when bits of the gun start flaking off.

With Joseph continuing taking down flankers he can not only hear their gears dying as he pops bolts into their heads but the sound that follows behind them. A gearing-up sensation sound that he knows all too well.

A hound then lunges from the shadows of the piling corpses directly on Joseph's side. To his surprise, it falls just as quickly back to the ground with a well-placed acolyte blade thrown into its eye. He immediately glances over above him to see Heavy panting over the monitor from his hidey-hole. Heavy slowly grabs his pistol dangling from his pockets and starts shooting the best he could manage. It's official, none of them are going down without a final stand.

Even with Heavy's added-on pistol fire, the bots still start coming in like a swarm of bees out of a hive. Seeing the crowd getting in fast, Joseph runs and rams them with the table. He takes out a few along the way and starts shooting the rest with his chest remaining behind the table.

Joseph watches half of the bots that were flanking Hardcase's side run back into the hallway while he continues taking down the ones on his. This time he sees no one come and replace them. He only then starts to hear the rapid firing of other blaster bolts from the hallway. As the sounds get closer, the remaining bots have their metal gears grind themselves while trying to maintain focus on two fronts. A smile never appears faster on his face.

However, that smile vanishes when he sees a neglected bot's blaster inches away from his cheek. The bot's gun ramps up only to be silenced by a louder bolt piercing through their head. The sound doesn't fail to make Joseph's eyes quiver as the body falls to the floor realizing how close he was to going into the reaper's hands. They might shoot fast, but thankfully, he's lucky that Lincoln's men are trained to be faster.

Joseph can only barely see three of them through the doorway shadows. Once Hardcase finishes the last remaining bots, he can hear the pitter-patter of many more. The three troopers who fought to save their skins make their way into the room.

Commander 76 is one of them. A kid no older than Joseph always wears a black trench coat and top hat, making him look like a detective from the 2,000s period. The only other thing he shows is a white, modified, hockey mask that sticks to him like Buzzard to his goggles. Still, through the mask, his voice speaks that of a siren.

"Is everything alright, Commander?" 76 asks, his hand reaching for Joseph from the ground.

He gratefully but slowly takes his offer, in the back of his mind, making sure that he is of flesh and bone and not an illusion from rapid blood loss. Thankfully, his hands have gloves with holes showing his pale white skin which causes Joseph's heart to stop fluttering on the inside.

Joseph still shuddering a tiny bit inside his boots tells him, "As best as I can be. Though we have one who requires immediate medical attention."

As he says that, Heavy, who at this point is pouring sweat over the monitor, drops his pistol over the railing and collapses to the ground. 76 motions his hands to the two soldiers that came with him to rush over towards Heavy's position. Looking at them closer now, Joseph can see the medic symbol upon their shoulders. Hardcase offers to stay with Heavy, giving the med troopers a rundown on what had happened to him. That leaves only him and 76 to go see the signet warrior himself.

There are many sights for them both to behold while rushing down the halls back towards the front gate. Bots' bodies litter the way while other soldiers move around cleaning up any stragglers. Joseph even witnesses a poor boy getting mauled by a hound in the corner of his eye; his fellow soldiers make his screams only last an instant—just another five-pound upon Joseph's heart.

Once on the first floor where it all began, soldiers now huddle to the sound of smashing blades near the end of the tunnel that leads to the gate. They all clear a path once they see Joseph's and 76s patches showing off their status. Once at the front, Joseph can't believe his eyes.

Lincoln, the boy with the polished white hair, his signet warrior, duels the acolyte commander and the acolyte girl that gave his squad so much trouble. Everyone's eyes watch in amazement as Lincoln counters both of their attacks with his blade with ease, making them look to be his jesters, putting on a show for his brothers in arms to laugh at.

An acolyte commander is the second-highest rank one can get beside one of Devastator's hands. Even the girl with the sickle is holding up to his level. Yet Lincoln dodges and counters with jabs and kicks—making them look like a couple of bots.

What's even more satisfying for Joseph is the fact that Lincoln only sees them with one eye; the other is covered up by an eye patch. With no trouble, he disarms the girl and slashes one of her calves. Her voice distorted through her helmet muffles in pain as she falls, struggling to even stay on one knee. 76 takes it as his queue along with some others to surround and restrain the defeated girl while also making sure she doesn't bleed out. Joseph's eyes continue keeping tabs on the ongoing fight.

Lincoln starts twitching a little as the commander gets a few stabs in with his blade. He always twitches his body slightly at even the tiniest cut. No one else can tell with him wearing his black flak jacket, matching the color of his patch, but Joseph knows what to look for. The only thing other than black Lincoln dawns is the silver shoulder pad that bears his signet of unity. Four red rings, connected by a red star. He continues to make his status known through a fancy display. He first slashes the commander's blade in two, catches the upper half from the air before it falls, and then shoves the tip into his chest before he can react.

Everyone starts chanting his name like a pack of howling wolves as the commander staggers backward and smashes his back into the ground. He pays them no mind while he brushes off what little dust he gathered from the scuffle on his jacket. He only looks into the crowd once to smile in Joseph's direction. Joseph's eyes can only look toward the floor as he does so. The crowd slowly goes silent. The blood-drenched commander rises from the ground with everyone feeling the rage sweeping from his helmet.

He yells to Lincoln, "You dare turn your back to me?! Our battle isn't finished. Do you have no honor?!

Lincoln only turns his head in and replies in his thick British accent, "It's more honorable to know when one is beaten instead of dragging out a losing battle."

Lincoln's words mixed in with the pain coming from the acolyte's chest seem to only fuel the anger that'll soon become steam.

"No...No! The Legion will have all your limbs and replace them with metal," he screams out towards the crowd. "But for now, Lincoln, I'll have your signet!!"

He then rushes for Lincoln's signet shoulder with the remaining half of his blade. Before Lincoln can turn his body and brings out his own, a pistol bolt echoes past him going right through the commander's already broken chest plate, making him fall quickly back to the ground; for good.

No one can comprehend what has just happened. But they all knew one thing. His body will be the last to fall. Lincoln then stares at the set of trembling hands holding out a pistol still lingering with smoke in the front of the crowd. Everyone else slowly does the same with some even backing away from the man that they all see. They all knew then that, Joseph's pistol, will be the last to take a life for the night.