Running the Drills
Ela ran through the halls of the objective, a blaring alarm playing over and over in her ear piece. She readied her gun, just one room away from the objective when the all clear was given. The test was over, and the invading team won. Ela let her arms go limp for a moment, her rifle falling to her side, still grasped in her gloved hand. The green haired punk shuddered with her free hand. She stared at her shoes, flinching over and over. With a scream, she threw her hand against the wall. She growled through her clenched teeth, leaning against the wall she threw her rage into.
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