Viktor was about to give an answer, when yet another interruption made itself known. Demons. The word, in the old world, had lost much of its impact on many people, but the mere mention of the beasts was enough to silence a whole room and strike fear into any man's heart now. His face dropped, and while most of it was hidden behind his mask, the widening of his eyes was more than enough to display the flurry of instinct and emotion running through him. It wasn't quite panic, but the cold pang of fear that stabbed into him like a shard of razor-sharp ice was undeniable. And then at least one of them made themselves seen. Scott's bullets put it down for maybe a few seconds, and when it rose again, Viktor's hunters all immediately began to unload on the beast alongside him.<br/><br/>Liliana's denial of his earlier recommendation seemed like it was fated to be overruled. Between the oncoming strangers and these beasts, the morning's events couldn't have possibly gotten any worse unless reality itself started to tear itself asunder. Which was a perfectly possible next step in this ever-increasing ladder of hostility, should a facility overload. Turning to her, he gave a simple response. "We are leaving."<br/><br/>As his hunters tried to hold off the beast, Viktor tossed aside his arrowgun to one who had run out of ammunition, and instead of drawing his rifle, he turned to the rest of the group, appraising the situation. Most of the group seemed able-bodied, the injured man and the child among them the exceptions. He couldn't aid them both, and carrying a full-sized human (or mutant, though Viktor didn't know that just yet) would've slowed him down and inevitably meant the death of both of them. With that in mind, he turned to Inga, crouched to get closer to her height, and spoke quickly.<br/><br/>"Sorry, kid. But we've got to go." And with that, he scooped her off the ground, turned towards the others, and barked a simple to follow order. "On me!" The hunters, after a few more seconds of holding off the imps with bullets and arrows, proceeded to follow. Hopefully the rest of the group decided trying to get out of the situation was more likely to keep them alive than fighting. Dangerous wildlife was one thing. Any animal could be put down with enough force. But demons, they were something else entirely. Not to say they couldn't be killed, but Viktor doubted hunting gear and makeshift weapons could save them.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Elsewhere in the wastes, a much calmer walk in the woods was being carried out by another group. Most of them appeared to be the typical wastelander one would encounter. Scavenged clothes, heavy jackets, and whatever gun they managed to either scrounge up or put together. One, however, was quite a bit different in both dress and equipment. He carried no gun, and his long coat and odd mask made him stick out a lot, even from his position close to the middle of the group. He was pushing along a wheelbarrow, filled with a few small crates neatly stacked. It wasn't clear what was inside them, but anyone with this much guarding must have had something valuable.<br/><br/>The lack of snowfall in the area was a relief, but the ground was still covered with evidence of the previous day's chill. Boots crunched against it, and the push cart's creaky wheel was a constant sense of noise. It made some of the guards stressed, to the point where one spoke up. "Come on, Stefan. Why'd we have to use this thing?"<br/><br/>After a moment of pause, the masked man looked up, eyes just barely visible beneath the leather construct's lenses. "If you'd prefer to carry them yourself, we could always do that," He suggested. His tone of voice held a not-quite-mocking, but definitely teasing tone to it, and as the guard turned away and groaned, he chuckled and looked forward again. "We're almost there, don't worry. Besides, we can always take a break. It's been a long night."