[Ziio is in the hallway, positioned where she can see anyone approaching. She is tensed and alert, her hatchet in one hand and a crude set of throwing knives she has crafted from scavenged shrapnel wrapped about her calf. She is there to provide cover for the others dealing with the machine that she does not understand, and as she hears the tell-tale sound of those approaching, her hand travels to her calf, fingertips brushing the knives as she braces herself to react with force if needs be.]
/slips in here super late oops sorry guys ;;