As he jumped steps, he heard tin man shouting something which was all the prompting Feyd needed to start blowing away chunks of the stairwell as he sprinted down them. Whoever owned this building probably had crazy people with magical powers insurance. Or at least he told himself that as he caused hundreds of thousands of dollars of collateral damage as he sprinted down the stairs. He jumped onto the next landing and his foot slid out from under him and his chest slammed against the railing, and he collapsed. He just...couldn't run anymore. He was barely able to roll himself onto his back as he heard the thundering footsteps get closer and closer. Besides, tin man hadn't killed him yet, so Feyd figured he wasn't in any sort of rush to. He had faith in himself that he could get himself out of whatever situation he was about to be drug into. He dug through his pocket for his pack of cigarettes and pulled out a pack that was crushed into the size of a dollar bill. He would have laughed at it all, but he felt like his chest would have exploded if he tried.