To his credit, Muerte did not visibly react to the sudden appearance of the green bubble around her. Internally however his mind had exploded in a sudden flurry of thoughts and theories ranging from alarm to intrigue. Shit, a magic user. That green light though... Where did I see it? That's right, the ship. If she did bring the ship down that puts her in the same sup category as Icon. Useful...but also potentially dangerous. Further information is needed.
As she spoke Muerte couldn't help but give a smile of his own under his mask. She's adorable.
He lowered the rifle and took up a more relaxed pose. "Well we are in a warzone, and this ain't exactly my day job. It would be kind of a weird conversation over the water cooler if my coworkers saw me fighting off alien hordes,"
he said in a matter-of-fact way. "Though at this point I have no idea if I have any coworkers left, so it couldn't hurt to get another one.
He extended a hand to her. "They call me Muerte. And since you are human AND ok, I could use some help getting these f*ckers out of my city. What do you s-?"
He caught sudden movement outside the ship, another company of soldiers had just rounded the corner of the building and spotted him. "Get down!"
Muerte tackled her back to the ground as they opened fire, keeping her as flat to the floor as he could manage while energy bolts flew wildly overhead. As soon as there was a pause he said, "Excuse me, Ill be right back."
He kipped up off of her then returned fire until his rifle ceased firing. He chucked it to the side and looked around for any other weapons. That's when he noticed that the hull of this ship had barely a scorch mark where they had been firing. Interesting.
He ripped off a chunk of the hull, took a deep breath, then began running out towards them with his improvised tower shield. He could feel the bolts hitting the metal but was unhindered as he plowed into the first row of them. He kept going until he'd knocked his way through the whole rank then swung the hull around to whack several of them to the ground. They regrouped and turned their rifles on him, making him duck behind metal again, but in doing so turned their backs on the ship. A searing pain flared through him. Looking down he saw singed raw flesh on his thigh where he'd caught another bolt. Well that's not good.
He peeked around and saw them starting to edge around him to flank him on either side. He waited until they fired to roll suddenly forward. Two of them shot each other and the rest missed. He sprang up and took out the rest of them with another sweep with the hull. Panting heavily he attempted to walk back to the ship but staggered on his wounded leg, feeling a turn of light-headedness. Muscular damage and shock, what a great combo...