While Cortana is busy making elegant origami out of whole reams of the standard accepted textbook of physics, North is focused on two main beliefs - that a Warthog is absolutely capable of rolling along a rigid sphere, and that the two AI on the team are capable of doing whatever they please, whether or not he could have even conceived of it beforehand. So the vehicle rolls right up the wall, down into the compound, and forward into the fray. The whole time, Theta's on the lookout for any remaining forces who look less than absolutely bewildered or panicked, pivoting the mounted gun at the rear of the vehicle and shooting through the flickering gaps in the shield that he's engineered countless times when the shield was still an armor enhancement entirely under his control. Per Legion rules, he isn't firing the standard-issue armor-penetrating rounds - instead, there's a full-auto barrage of miniature fireworks mortars bursting just close enough to their opponents' faces to take care of disorienting the ones still trying to struggle on through Cortana's attentions.

When they hit the ground - the actual ground, not a temporarily flipped point of gravitational pull - North pulls a hard turn toward the door, whistling a low slide of almost-admiration as he rolls up tapping the brakes. "Well okay then." A key, maybe. Or a really, really impressive explosion, though- hell, depending on how much further inside the kids are-

"No, it's okay!" He can catch the vague shape of the thought, the familiar patterns North's brain lights up in when he's thinking of how to take something down or take it apart, and he's just as sure that there's absolutely no need for it. Doors are made to be opened - and there's always a teammate, always a friend, right there and ready to get them inside so they can help finish the job. They're on a team - and that means trusting that there's someone there to handle the stuff that you can't do.

"It's gonna open."