Peter's turned his head down from facing the ceiling and back to Deborah. Oddly enough, that girl was rather faithful in Peter's strategy. An odd amount of faith, given how it threw away her own entire plan. He suspected she knew a thing or two already - with a little observation, it became clear she knew a thing or two about a lot of things. She accurately picks out details and traits of people without much to go on. A kind of enhanced cognition. He felt a little leery of her, but remained inconspicuous with his suspicions. He let the team of students think more on about the newly developed strategy and let Deborah piece what she had to work with together. He figured she knew more about the capabilities of the students around her more than he did. There was one other girl that had approached him though. He was unable to make out some of the finer details of her, or possible skin flaws, but he did make out an eye-patches, and sensed faintly the wrinkles and creases of her skin, namely on her hands - she was too young to have received those naturally. Those were burn scars. She made mention of "lighting people up". If she was as flashy as she seemed to prescribe herself as, then she would make an excellent distraction. This girl wasn't the only one. There was another, with a creature on her back. She made mention of not being able to see in the dark, and walking into people. Those were valid concerns.

First, he looked to Gabriela. "If you can keep hostile eyes on you, then yes. As long as you do not illuminate the flanking units." Then he turned to face Codi. "The chargers will allow enough light in the center of the room for frame of reference, and should be dramatic enough to distract the opposing force and keep their eyes on them; but yes, the positioning is every--"

The abrupt alarm interrupted Peter's explanation. He had not quite payed attention to the background noise like he perhaps should have done, but it was just a minor nuisance. Shortly after, the girl he had met from before - Amanda Blackmore - went straight into action and developed a massive ball and chain. Made of metal. Which was honestly pretty disconcerting. And following shortly after, another one of theirs was playing music that extended beyond the normal limits of [i]any[/i] MP3. Was their plan to intimidate them? Big displays? Surely, the team Peter was on wouldn't be fazed by such a display. They had a plan that should throw them way off. And such a straightforward plan wouldn't fly well anyways. He faced the rest of the group.

"Stand your ground for now, pretend to be on the defensive. I will cut the lights, but do not proceed until I say go[i]o-ooe...[/i]"

That said, Peter went to action. He didn't necessarily care about the results, he just didn't want to leave these kids with the short end of the stick. His main concern? Getting to an electrical outlet and siphoning the power. That electrical arm. Ten minutes in most cases, if he just kept it like that. Whatever Peter planned on doing? It would probably leave him with five to seven minutes on his arm. He retreated into the bunk, subtle uses of electrical discharges being emitted from his feet each time he stepped to get fresh images around him. The layout of the bunker was visible to him, and some parts were brighter than others. That was a place where he could siphon the electricity. There were no lights or anything near the entrance - but further in and up the stairs there was a light from the ceiling. He charged up the stairs, his heavy footsteps perhaps being heard even from outside. Once there, he turned a corner by just enough so that he could push one foot against one wall and another on the other. With both feet on the walls to keep him suspended, he launched a metal punch at the lights, shattering it and the frame. Digging further in, he reached in and grasped and ripped away at the electrical chords that fueled the arena's power circuit.

It crackled and popped with electricity with Peter's arm elbow deep in the circuitry. His metal body absorbing and conducting all the power coursing through the walls and, in turn, the pit. The lights outside began to flicker. Peter's senses were alight with life, energy coursed through his body, that which tingled, as though his whole body were asleep. He felt static dance along his metal skin, which turned to arcs of electrical energy the longer Peter siphoned the power. Sparks were flying everywhere from the source as Peter let loose a warbled moan only the bending of metal could produce, loud, amplified by the energy coursing through him. It echoed through the bunker and escaped out to the open. Through this circuit, he got a sense of the arena's scale. It was huge. Separate from the rest of the academy, but it was massive. But all of that sense of scale was suddenly shut off from him in a final explosion of sparks. The surge had stopped. His body was no longer draining away at the system - not that it was an issue. His body was so charged with electricity it was almost overwhelming. The senses were so... sensitive. He heard a loud buzzing in the back of his head.

He idley touched his body, feeling the sensitive buzz. With the aid of his hand, he traced his body, from the legs, up the torso, to the head and back down to the sternum - before dragging a finger to his right shoulder. Arcs of electricity began to develop. He palmed his shoulder and he felt an extreme focus of static and electricity in his shoulder. It was... almost painful. Almost. More... euphoric. He felt something. His palm formed a claw shape, fingers dramatically outstretched as arcs of static connected his finger tips to his shoulder. As he eased his arm away, it was almost as if he was tugging the electricity out of his body. A long stretch of energy. It was condensed into a thick, steady bolt of electrical energy and as the last bits were eased away, they split off into five small branches. Fingers for an arm. He turned it around to view it from several different angles, as it wasn't bound by the joints people had. He rotated it all around and placed the hand in front of his face...

Just before the manic giggling and laughter of a warped and warbled metallic voice. Unaware of the pitch black darkness he had created outside the den.