Turns out, Semyon did not have more bullets ready.

Not for what came now.

So he didn't bother trying, wasting not a single bullet either into the doomed construct before if, nor into the ever-growing crowd behind. They were the guardians of the Library then? He could understand their anger. Though the Wight hadn't directly harmed any of the books himself, he [i]was[/i] part of the fight that had all-but leveled the area around them. Of course the custodians would be angry- they had every right to be- Semyon and his comrades were fully in the wrong.

So he didn't try shooting them. It seemed the polite thing to do.

He didn't stand still and accept their punishment either, however. Guilty or not, he and his comrades had a mission to complete. [i]Two[/i] missions, neither of which could accept any casualties. Perhaps he'd keep some of the texts Michael found in the next smuggler troves and donate them, later. It wouldn't fix the destruction, but since Semyon wasn't going to be caught by the custodians here, he felt he should give them something, at least.

Hopefully they understood the sentiment.

Sethan's voice cut through the din as Semyon began to move, the Wight taking quick note of the King's shadowy protection- as well as the strained tone of his face. Quickly, then, was best.

Something Anselm seemed to agree with, the giant landing with a great tremor just ahead, making his own way to the potential safety of the darkened doorway. Tamarind had gotten Nestor off the construct, it seemed, both moving quickly ahead. The golem-man was moving as well, one of their comrades in his arms and another by his side. The young woman who he thought had been staring at him in Ireland went dashing ahead upon her... Hellhound? 

That was everyone who came to the Library, which spoke well. But now that they had beaten down the guards and angered the custodians, they had to [i]find[/i] the Ankh itself... Then find a way to get out.

Hopefully Isis could do that wing-thing again. That had been... did 'nice' work in that context? Close enough, it had been nice. Something he'd do again.

For now, thought, Semyon kept pace just ahead of Sethan, back-stepping quickly with only the occasional look to ensure he didn't run over a comrade, keeping his attention primarily at the writhing mass just behind the undead King. He didn't want to shoot the custodians, but he very much [i]did[/i] want his comrades to survive. If he had to pulverize the legs or eyes of a couple stone scarabs with pistol fire to ensure their survival, then that's what he would do.

...Hopefully the scarabs would understand [i]that[/i] sentiment as well.