"All security personnel, move to secure the detention block," wailed the speakers surrounding the small meditation room Aimard was in. He unfolded his legs beneath him and got to his feet. The room was covered in blue pads all around, a basic soundproofing measure. As much good as those did when they installed speakers within the room. Aimard frowned and strode barefoot towards a door in the side of the meditation room, pressing in a code with practiced motions into the keypad beside it.<br/><br/>He stepped into his armory, approaching an armor rack housing his hallowed plate mail. He first wore the breastplate over his white singlet, the front and back snapping together, magnetized plates clicking together and locking in place. The rerebraces of his arms did the same as he put them in place, and he pulled on a set of vambraces before reaching for his gauntlets that fit him perfectly. A set of pauldrons too locked into place.<br/><br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>He slung a bandolier around his shoulder and made sure his revolver was holstered by the armor on his left thigh. Completely bedecked in battle gear, he slid his Negotiator down a slot on his backplate and stepped out of the armory.<br/><br/>Seconds upon entering the detention block, Aimard saw before him, several meters away, a Harbinger setting a Templar aflame. The man slapped at the flames in an attempt to put it out, but the panicked and desperate movements succeeded only at spreading the fire. Third degree burns were obvious on every part of exposed flesh on him, and he fell dead to the ground even as Aimard stepped coolly towards the spellcaster.<br/><br/>The Harbinger noticed his presence and let loose a jet of flame towards Aimard. As he saw the brilliant orange flame streak for his face, Aimard rolled forward, avoiding the jet, and getting to his feet in a fluid motion. Just as the Harbinger gestured to ready another attack, Aimard poised his right arm backward and reached for the handle of his Negotiator, before swinging it in a vicious motion aimed for the young man's neck. He noticed his mistake too late as the silver Negotiator swiped across his neck, cutting it to the vertebrae. With a look of shock in his face, he retreated, gripping his neck, gasping at the fatal wound as blood pumped in an unending tide.<br/><br/>With a swift step forward, Aimard swung his sword in a backhand motion. He could feel the grating of the man's spine across his blade as he cut in a perfect reverse of his previous strike, severing the head at the neck cleanly this time and sending it floating into the air before bouncing across the ground of the corridor, staining it with random streaks of blood in the process. Aimard broke into a run, not pausing for breath, at the sight of yet another Harbinger.<br/><br/>This Harbinger clenched her fist as a wisp of lightning played around it and thrust her hand forward, opening her palm. A bolt of lightning sped towards Aimard's chest, but he paid it no attention as ripples of electricity crackled across his chest before rapidly dissipating.  Noticing that she had not put enough power into the attack, the Harbinger decided to bring it close, channeling her fists with charges of lightning.<br/><br/>In a seemingly impossible motion, Aimard swiftly drew his revolver and flipped over the Harbinger's head. The spellcaster, surprised as she should, looked to her back, just in time as Aimard pulled the trigger with the revolver's barrel staring the spellcaster square in the face. A .500 round exited the barrel at a velocity in excess of a 1900 feet per second, and the woman's head bucked backwards at the impact as a fist-sized hole was punched through her head, killing her instantly. The bullet exited the back of what remained of her skull and left a noticeable hole on the floor.<br/><br/>Blake landed at the 90-degree turn of the corridor and sighted yet another Harbinger, a man this time. Without any hesitation, he brought up his revolver and pulled the trigger.