By some miracle, the attacks of the Margrave's allies met their mark, scoring a few crucial hits on the turncoat and diminishing his assets considerably. Then again, it wasn't just 'some' miracle—it was the indomitable innovative spirit of the Margrave himself, that oh-so-stupid power of his allowing him to wallop his foe with an inexplicable brick wall and open Protean up for attack. If they could just hold on  to their momentum, they could gouge away enough of his mass to render him mostly harmless, but to assume themselves out of the danger zone just yet would be an error of elephantine proportions.

The other Wards knew it, and pressed the attack. Tulpa's projection recuperated from its grievous wound and pressed on, hemming Protean in when Messiah powered it up. At some point both Tiger Lily and Mastar disappeared, but the keen eyes and razor wit of the Margrave allowed him to discern mucky imprints on the floor and shifted ceiling bits that hinted where the latter might be hiding. [i]Not completely banal,[/i] he mused. [i]This newbie might not be a waste of time after all.[/i] His leader's shout cut in on his observation, pulling him back into the fight. While thinking, the Margrave had been fiddling around in his pockets, looking for whatever he could find. Melee wasn't an option, since he wouldn't survive proximity to the projection or Messiah's attacks. Caltrops would do nothing. No cars today, which was a shame since cars were problem-solvers to say the least, but his fingers closed around something else.

He produced a couple of tiny plastic minifig tools, including hammers and wrenches. Growing them one by one, he hurled them at Protean. His aim left a little to be desired, and compared to bullets (hello again, Lily) and energy beams they lacked in stopping power too, but doggone it, he was doing what he could.