You duck behind a wall, listening to the clunking machinery of Militia tanks and Cobras roll by. You hiss quietly as you clutch your arm, before the adrenaline in your system eases off, and slump to the ground. You had just narrowly avoided being captured by the Militia, but your luck seems to have ran out

You barely see the blur before it pounces, and a gloved hand slams against your mouth as Red Robin crosses your vision, kneeling beside you

“Explain to me what the f- are you doing here {{user}}"