Agent 92212 was not having a good day.
She had been assigned to an area which was firmly in Resistance control, and the more she looked into it, the worse the numbers were. The way these people were linking the portals seemed to somehow attune them further to each other. The resulting resonance was so powerful it was getting hard to filter even with professional equipment.
It had been a few months earlier when the side effects of long-term exposure to strong mind control fields became blatantly apparent. After that, all Enlightened field operatives had been given protective, discreet headgear to avoid further unpleasantness. It made covert operations more challenging but for the regular day-to-day work the personal filters were a blessing.
This was especially true in this neighbourhood, where the mind control fields were not just in single layouts but strangely folded. Agent 92212's sensors were picking up at least triple readings, with disturbing spikes in the resonance. Something had to be done to this anomalous structuring, and fast.
Feeling the pressure of time, she might have not been as careful as the field operative's handbok demanded. In fact, the final extra XMP charge she linked into the remote detonator was well over the limit of what was considered a safe single-time pulse. But damn it, the portals were too well protected to get past the shields with anything less!
She got into position, crouched behind a rock in reflex despite the extensive lack of actual protection it provided against XM pulses, and pressed the remote trigger.
She pressed it again. Still nothing.
She counted to ten slowly, but nothing was released by any stretch of imagination. That is, unless one would count a veritable mushroom cloud of dissatisfaction in the cartoon-like virtual reality above her head. This simply would not do.
Now thoroughly pissed off, she grabbed a high-powered ultra strike launcher and headed to the weakest resonator. She would take SOMETHING down today, so help her god, Shapers, or anything else that happened to be listening.
The ultra-strike blast was a resounding success. The field became immediately unstable, and she victoriously dashed closer to the portal, still impotently wired with her dud charges, to check what could be done to set off a destructive chain reaction or at least weaken the shielding.
As luck and the seventh Murphy's law about skipping steps in security procedure manuals would have it, the moment she touched the portal access interface, the remote-controlled charges finally got their signal. The resulting blast sent her reeling backwards, and the protective headgear's circuit made a definitely unsavoury crackling sound as it got fried.
On her mercifully short path to unconsciousness, she had time for one enlightening thought: "Signal jammers? Of course, that's why it wouldn't work before... someone's been busy-"
Then all she could see was blinding noise of glyphs.