She holds her hand out. "Sub what now?"

"You can say things under your breath and I'll still hear them," she rephrases, a tiny bit exasperatedly.

Three magazines clatter into her hand.

"You should put the new magazine into the Hornet so it's ready if you need it."

"Just say the second thing in the first place," she mutters quietly, looking down at the gun.

...There's a clearly labelled button with a cartoon style outline of the bullets popping out. Sheesh. She knows she doesn't know how guns work. She presses the button and lets the empty* case fall to the ground, then puts the new one in. Then hands one of the little ones to - kid with gun, she's forgotten all the names - and sticks the other in the hi-vis vest's pocket.

*It actually had 13 rounds remaining, not that Lenora will ever notice this.

"I'll revise my vocabulary for you, yes. Keep a watch for more Antithesis."

Would Lenora like to hear a series of cracking sounds, followed by a long, worm-like antithesis, about two meters in diameter, emerging from a newly-dug hole in the concrete?

Rhetorical question, actually. The antithesis does not care what she'd like, it's digging this hole up to ground level anyway. All the littler models need easier routes to get up here, kill all these threatening humans, and drag the biomass back to the new hive.

Aaaaaaaahhhhh it should be full of bullets now!

The Hornet is high-caliber, for an SMG, It kicks like a mule, or a pile driver, against her shoulder. But it's still just an SMG.

"Model Eight. Killing that might be beyond your ability for now. It's going to spit out more Antithesis very soon, too."

As if on cue, growths on the side of the model eight pop, disgorging four more model threes.

Okay! Time to! Actually try to Aim???!

CR-CR-CR-CR-CR-click.

Yeah no we are going to keep running. We can see the shelter right over there! People are still trying to squeeze into it, and the door is open!

"Ammo! Just keep giving me more ammo when I run out!"

There's a shimmer. She grabs it. Pop out the old one, pop in the new one, god they're fast-

The dog-like threes are darting back and forth, dodging her fire as they close on her. She manages to take out, one, then two, before suddenly one bounds up and off a parked car, lunging at her face.

The question at hand is: Does this Hornet SMG make a good club? Because that's what it's being used as right now!

It knocks her on her back, even incidental to whatever cutting damage gets done.

Fuck! We can't let the Samurai who saved our asses go down just like that!

Diego aims his Hummingbird, waits half a heartbeat, and fires when it's trying to recover its balance. All four rounds left in the mag.

Lenora has some deep gouges in her cheek, bleeding freely, but the butt of the Hornet knocks the model three aside just enough to keep it from doing worse, right in time for Diego's shots to splatter antithesis bits all over Lenora's face, the cut grass smell stronger than ever.

She shoves the horrid mass off of her, still fighting the urge to retch.

It stings! And there might be more Antithesis.

She stands, trying to blink the blood from her eyes.

"Lenora, you're bleeding. You need first aid! You can afford a Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite- It'll do you a world of good. Unlock and buy, seventy points out of your current one hundred and fifteen. It'll keep you on your feet and ready to fight."

"Go for it, super-AI. I- Urgh, fuck, when I can catch a break I want to talk about all this but you know what's going on more than me, right?"

"I do. Okay, it's coming your way now. Forty-five points left. It's an inhaler. Just hold it up to your nose and press. You'll feel better really soon."

She takes the little object and presses it against her mouth and nose and squeezes, without hesitation.

In moments the pain starts to fade and her mind feels far more clear.

-!!- She looks towards the Model Eight, and at the shelter, to assess their situations.

The shelter still has its doors open- Is it one of the fucking Legerdemain & Sons kits? She sees the 'LS' logo on the door. No wonder it's not closing. The wiring in those sucks!

Diego reloads the Hummingbird pistol. He kind of wants to stay here- The shelter looks really dubious, the longer he stares at it, but his friends are tugging him that way and he does want to be further from the giant worm thing. Good luck, Construction Samurai, we'll always remember youuuuu!

The model eight has pulled itself further out, exposing its last two growth sacs, which disgorge two threes and a four, joining the remaining three still nearby. The threes charge, and the four gradually drags itself closer.

The eight retreats back to the soon-to-be hive at the bottom of the well to dig another hole elsewhere.

Guess what she still has! A forty-point gun! It fires really big bullets and is surprisingly easy to keep the recoil down!

One Model Three goes down -Click. A new magazine appears. She slams it in and backpedals. Also, the sudden wakefulness and rush of clarity from that medicine is helping her aim. Somewhat. She has more patience to line it up before pulling the trigger at least. Aim. Fire. Aim. Fire.

-The big one. She'll shoot at that, too.

It takes most of her ammo, but the remaining threes go down. She can't quite bring the four down though. 

She could if her aim was a bit better, but she is honestly a terrible shot, even healed. All her hits tear into the edges of its tentacles.

It drags itself toward her and lashes out with its tentacles.

Gyaaaaahh.

"I can't shoot for shit! Give me- Fuck! A fucking sword or hammer or something! Or a grenade!"