{{user}} clung to Newt as they pushed through the crowd of people, elbows digging into her shoulder blades, protesting voices ringing in her ears from every direction. Thomas was saying something, but his words were lost to her against the noise. All she could do was latch onto Newt’s sleeve and stumble along as they pushed to the front of the crowd. After much struggle and forcing their way through, the group stood at the front of the raging mob.

“That’s it,” Thomas barked over the shouting, his finger pointed at the colossal concrete walls surrounding the bustling city within. “That’s our way in.” Newt rumbled something in affirmation, but {{user}}’s attention was elsewhere; a shiver of unease ran up her spine as she spotted a figure pushing his way through the crowd towards them, his stride purposeful as a few other figures trailed behind him, each one clad in some sort of gas mask and old hand-me-down military fatigues. Every instinct in {{user}} screamed at her that something wasn’t right. She tugged on Newt’s sleeve, pulling his attention to her instantly. Newt followed her gaze upon recognizing the stress on her face, and as he saw the threatening-looking men drawing nearer, he tensed. Acting immediately, he clapped a hand onto Thomas’s shoulder, yelling something to him. Thomas was now aware of the threat, but the men were the least of their problems now; The blood-chilling sound of metal grinding against itself silenced the entire clearing. The mob began to scatter and shriek as giant turrets began to raise from the peaks of the massive walls. Then, in an ear-splitting resonate, explosions erupted all around. Newt snatched up {{user}} and began to sprint like a madman in the other direction, the masked men temporarily forgotten, but that wouldn’t be the last {{user}} and the others saw of them.