Still standing outside with the others, Shealtiel looks at them quizzically. "Is anyone inclined to follow that act? I thought not. Michael does raise a salient question, however. If the commander of this garrison has any sense, he may agree to bargain with us just to get us out of his city. Or... he could call Saint Acacias to deal with us once more. What sort of man do you think he is, Michael?"

He scrutinizes the young man, still suffering from the effects of the forced healing. "And also, if you take objection to me saving your life, do say so. Diplomacy didn't seem to be getting you very far back there. And as I told you yesterday, my methods of salvation can seem unpalatable to others." His eyes dart over to Jeanne then back to the Artificer.

Lev jumped backward, turning as he did. Iron sights that had been trained on him now swung wildly as their owners tried to escape the impending carnage. For the majority of them, it was too late.

The grenade detonated. The three soldiers within the five meter blast radius were reduced to mere chunks as heat seared them and shrapnel fileted them. Everyone else within fifteen screamed as they were peppered with flying metal. Trigger fingers squeezed down on reflex, firing off entire magazines in a mad reaction to the pain. Lev himself was not spared from the blast, sharp metal ripping chunks from his skin and cooking his unprotected flesh. Steel bits stuck out of his body, wedging themselves in to his flesh. They made messy wounds, digging odd holes and latching in to his muscle tissue. To anything else, the physical pain would have been impossible to overcome. But the physical pain was tied to the vessel only. But for now, he needed this vessel to work.

He ripped what he could from his body as soldiers died around him. The healing process would be easy for him, but it would sap him greatly. Feeling that his lust had been satisfied, Lev lay his head down on the blood and chunk stained floor. His own body was a complete mess, riddled with entry wounds and the nasty gash in both his cheeks. Easily passing for a corpse, he closed his eyes. He decided it would give his host time to rest before he came to. And amongst the carnage, he released his control over the body...for now.

Feenai stood behind Jeanne, trying to look like she wasn't cowering even though that's exactly what she wanted to do. Everyone, and everything, was getting so far beyond her normal scope that she was almost feeling completely detached from everything. Lev...has been eating people and has just blown up several people as well as most of himself... Shealtiel probably was the one who snuffed out that guys soul... Ruebella and Dante are basically criminals...

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The problem is that it's not really their fault. Lev is possessed by...something. Shealtiel was just protecting himself and, well, probably not anyone else. There's probably several reasons the other two act the way they do. I don't think I should judge them since I've only known them two days. Feenai's mind darted back to her ideas with grenades but she did not feel confident enough to try anything yet.

Michael heard the explosion and the cries of men inside of the armory.
"Let's go. I told them to try to capture, so if we help them, we aren't associated with that monster's actions."
He ran inside and drew his gun at a broken man amidst a carnage unseen by most of the people around since the Eschaton. As more men came around the corner with guns drawn, he let his mental shields drop and let the psychics of the group know his identity.
"The man on the ground had caused this carnage. We'll need to bind him thoroughly if we want to have any sense of security."
Walking outside, back to the group, he called out. "I think it's over. Don't try anything else, and I'll assure you that no harm will come to you."
He eyed Altiel, who broke down the door, and Bella who helped kill the guards back in the alley when he said this.

"That would seem prudent, at the moment." Shealtiel nods to Michael. "Do you know if these men are... superstitious? I could offer my services in dealing with the demon -- I'd like a chance to study it. Something tells me it may not be the course of wisdom to pursue such investigation at this time, however."

Stepping inside with the others, doing his best to look harmless -- which is easy, when one is a gaunt old man with a cane -- Shealtiel notes the gruesome scene, thinking, My, what a spectacular slaughter.

Dante groaned slightly. Ow...my head. And...gunshots? Shit, in this state, I might as well walk up to the gunman or the red psychic unarmed.

He smelled the scent of blood seeping in from the front room. Someone must've gotten eaten again, he thought to himself, grimacing, a small movement that caused the nearest guard to glare at him.

Lev awoke slowly, objects swimming across his vision hazily. They drifted in and out, slowly coming in to focus. He was in pain. Blood was in his mouth. His face felt like it was on fire, and his chest was in pain...he tried to sit up, realizing that his muscles were expended and worn from...from...

Lev screamed. He screamed, and he did not stop. Feral shrieks filled the armory as he grabbed his head, wrenching back and forth violently. Visions flooded his head. Death. Carnage. Perverse gluttony. He wretched as those particular memories came crashing back. Everything that had usually been kept from him had been messily left this time, nothing erased in the demon's haste to retreat deeper inside. To realize what had happened to Lev, what he had done, nearly drove him deeper in to insanity. He began screaming at anyone he could see, shouting at the woman who had hired him in the first place.

"Get away! GET AWAY! Possesses my body! Carnage! I harbor! I harbor!"

He kept shaking, nails of his fingers sinking in to the sides of his head. Blood slowly oozed from his claw marks, mixing with the older blood he had exposed to the light of day. In his current condition he looked crazed, or perhaps even a fresh Dybbuk. His scars and wounds were plenty, and if not for the animation he could easily have been mistaken for a corpse. However, most corpses were not known for their screaming.

"I possess demon!"

As the soldiers raise their weapons at the crazed gunman, Shealtiel speaks to forestall them.

"I would not advise that. Further violence will likely arouse the demon again, especially if the host is threatened. I'd advise restraining him, though. And disarming him."

He walks past the group of soldiers as they approach Lev and goes into the main chamber of the Armory, looking for whoever is in charge. He does not look behind, but he expects the others to follow him.

Not to mention, he'd like to put some distance between himself and the demon, lest it reveal what he is to these men. They must already be suspicious from the way he just advised them.

Feenai followed Shealtiel in, while being in awe of Ruebella's twist on what happened. It was mostly true and despite everyone fighting to save themselves, they did save others at the same time. I even helped a tiny bit with that. Even though she had seen most of the weapons the solders were using before, via the Network, it was far different to see them in person, especially when they were pointed at herself and her friends. There must be something I can do to help us get out of this. ALL of us, even Lev... Feenai dipped her mind into the Network to see if she could find some information about this place that she could use effectively.

Lev thrashed as soldiers approached him, trying to scramble away and failing at it. He knew there was nothing these mere men could do. They didn't understand. Any moment he could revert back in to the monster, back in to the demon that had taken hold of him. The memories just from today were all there. And even though he couldn't remember everything else from the years before, he felt the holes. He felt the gaps in his memories, the once that had been swept away when he had not been himself. Just how many people had he slaughtered in that state? Just how many had he eaten?

Lev stopped thrashing his head just in time to see the butt of a gun flash in front of his face. It struck him across the forehead hard, knocking him out. He went slack, allowing the soldiers to rush in and completely bind him. They wasted no time in binding him as tightly as they could, restricting any possible movement. It was apparent that the rope they used was already cutting in to Lev's skin, but it was better to bruise the monster, rather than let it run loose.

Feenai stepped forward gingerly. "These people have saved my life more than once." Her voice was shaking but stayed loud and clear. "Even that man whom you have restrained has saved me, though his actions seem to dictate otherwise lately. I know it seems terrible, but at the very least we were attacked by some people here in town. That man overdid it but it was out of his control, and he was threatened even though he started by just protecting himself."

Feenai took a deep breath before continuing. "I can't speak for us all, but I wanted to get some supplies before leaving town. That was our plan before we were brutally assaulted inside the town. That man might have caused some carnage but I can't imagine how it may have turned out if we were not all here."

Shealtiel decides to let the others do the talking. There is little he can offer that won't arouse suspicion to himself, and the others will be able to make more persuasive arguments than he, anyway. Given that the proceedings seem to be carrying on in relative peace he begins to doubt the need for his presence here, as the Armory houses little of interest to him. He decides to keep an eye on Lev rather than focus on the Captain.

Dante blinked a few times. It looked like everything had settled down. Dammit, he thought. He should have made his move while the chaos ensued. He wriggled a little. Nah, no matter how flexible he was, handcuffs were made for keeping people in.