What the fuck was Lodbrok going on about...?!? And is he...<em>cutting</em>himself...!?!<br/>Whoa! Robits!<br/>And eerily they look like...the international terrorist...Victor Von Doom...?<br/>(And did Storm just refer to us as "X-Men"...? Why yes... Yes, she did...)<em><strong>=]</strong></em><br/><br/>He inadvertantly fired off a blast from his right hand. His shot went wide of any of the targets.<br/>Five of them. Five of us. Okay. That was pointed enough.<br/>He couldn't be quite sure what AstraFlare was up to...but she was clearly up to<em>something</em>...<br/>Flame's...`flame' blanketed the area. Yes, Flame, blanket them with your power...<br/>It was all happening so fast. It felt like what he imagined Beamen felt like when he was first thrust into the NFL in "Any Given Sunday".<br/>Astra' could lift them... And he hoped she was doing so. She was clearly doing something as<br/>well. He had to do something himself. Time for him to act.<br/>Nuo, blanket them with your exacerbation... Except Nuo stepped in his way, graceful as she was. She leaped into the air, giving him an opening to one of the robots... And he took it.<br/>Everything was happening blurringly fast. He found himself struggling to find a target.<br/><br/>He reached forward with his right arm, the glove on it already obliterated from his early premature blast. He let loose. His energy escaping from the direction of his arm.<br/>He hoped it found it's target, but realized the slight error in his ways targeting the same foe as one of his teammates when there were 4 more to be concerned about...<br/>He could only do better on his next shot...<br/>This wasn't a fucking game...<br/>But he tried to treat it as such... "Enjoy this" he told himself...