[i]I ain't goin back
				To Barton Hollow,
					The Devil's gonna follow me
						E'er I go,
							Won't do me no good,
								Washing in the river,
									Can't no preacher-man save my soul.[/i]
	
	Ellis approached calmly, raising his hands when ordered. They had guns on him. One of them seemed to be reporting to his superiors. He must be their commanding officer. High priority target. He noticed several of them carrying white versions of his own Talon, dangerous in close quarters. Four high priority targets. The other eight bore standard armaments, and no special markings. Low priority if he'd ever seen them. "Hello, Samuel."
He caught the flash of recognition in their Centurion, and the man took his hand of his radio, and drew his baton. Lightning arced. Lightning that could kill Ellis' suit if hit hit in the right spot.
"Fuckin' Taevon." 
This was it. Ellis began spinning his servos, faster and faster, to overclock velocities. They would never see this coming. "NERO, private channel. On my signal, pump my external volume to full. Switch to squad channel. Cover your ears. This is gonna be good." Ellis charged his barrier and fortified it, a violet haze becoming an egg around his body.

[b][i][color=fff200]FLASH![/color][/i][/b][b][i][color=ed1c24]POW![/color][/i][/b]

	Ellis snatched the baton away, electric charge weakening his grip slightly, but not nearly enough, and swung, snapping it half on the Centurion's helmet, taking his head off with pure blunt force, as though it were a club of epic proportion. Orange sparks flew as it scraped across the titanium oxide coating of the troop's armor, and blue ones as the baton broke into two jagged halves, one half catching fire as it bounced off of Ellis' armor. He laughed, the sound approaching stadium levels in the tunnel.

The staccatto of automatic weapons. Shouting. Lots of shouting. The [i]CRACK[/i] of a high powered rifle. And Ellis laughed.

"[b]HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA![/b]"

	He caught sight of white metal in a nearby crate, and shot his left hand into it, fingers grasping something short, thin, angular, and pulling- [i]A GENERATOR!

[b]THROW IT IN THE FIRE![/b][/i]

"[b]HAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHA HAAAA HAHAHA HAAAAH HAAAAA![/b]"

When the generator blew, a cloud of fire and smoke and shrapnel tore across the tunnel. Ellis' barriers sparked as he laughed.
[i]YES YES YES![/i]

"[b]HAHAHA HA HAHAHA HAAAAAAH![/b]"

	He whipped off his sidearm with his right hand and opened fire. His left backhanded a fleeing Assault Trooper, throwing him into turret fire.

		[i]Did that full moon force my hand,
			Or that unmarked hundred grand,
				Oooo oOoooOoooo
					Underneath the water.
						It's not Alabama clay,
							That gives my trembling hands away,
									OoooOOOO OoOOOoo
										Underneath the water...[/i]