>>5884543Welcome to the thread friend
>LEROOOOOY JENKINS! Location: Inside the Calico Building
Time: 1:25 pm
The lobby was a bombed-out cathedral of chaos. Concrete rained from the ceiling, each crater spewing smoke like a dragon's maw. Stunned Yethur mob goons sprawled amongst the debris, twitching limbs punctuating the acrid symphony of burning rubber and singed flesh. Albert swallowed the bile rising in his throat, adrenaline masking the tremor in his legs.
He sprinted towards the elevator, a mechanical monstrosity spitting sparks from its mangled doors. Inside, he punched the button for the top floor, the metallic cage juddering skyward like a condemned man on a gallows. He fought the urge to glance at his phone, the incessant buzzing a maddening counterpoint to the building's death throes.
Then, the jolt. The elevator shuddered, metal screaming against metal, and came to an abrupt halt. Doors clanged open, revealing a gaggle of grinning mobsters, their weapons leveled like accusatory fingers.
Albert's shield materialized instinctively, a shimmering blue bubble deflecting the hail of bullets that erupted from the muzzles. Cynicism, his constant companion, whispered in his ear:
"Welcome to your own funeral, Blue Boy."
He spun, parrying a crowbar with his gauntlet, the clang echoing through the smoke-filled corridor. Bullets whizzed past him, whispering death threats on the wind. His own blaster spat blue plasma, carving temporary furrows into the chaos.
He wasn't a soldier, wasn't built for this gritty ballet of violence. But desperation was a potent choreographer, pushing him through the pirouettes and death leaps. His movements were calculated, precise, each strike a desperate plea for survival.
Then, a figure emerged from the smoke, flames dancing around him like macabre courtiers. Tall and gaunt, with eyes like burning embers, this maestro of fire held power that sent chills down Albert's spine. His palms crackled, and a fireball roared towards him, a miniature sun seeking vengeance.
