Snippet #2559581

Stalker had been walking the empty streets for about ten minutes, getting as far away as he could from the ArmuCorp Citadel as he could, when the gunshots started.

They started, along with the screaming, when Stalker was approximately fifty metres away from the source. Railguns, certainly; he could feel the magnetic pulses lightly fondling his exosuit. Something was amiss.

Stalker drew his handgun out of a coat pocket, the trusted Zenith, and looked around for a place to elevate himself to a position where he could view the situation at minimal risk. Failing that, his only choice was to advance forward, slowly cutting through alley and side streets until he could smell the blood. Finally, he was there.

By now the magnetic pulses were like waves breaking against a beach; the sheer amount of firing going on was nearly insurmountable. They were incredibly powerful railguns, too; almost certainly corporate. No one else could afford them, surely.

Turning a corner, the battle was finally visible: a group of corporate security guards, fighting some members of the criminal underworld. A curiosity, but one that required observation; could these criminals hold off the corporates? If so, Stalker was impressed; but not enough to prevent him from killing any survivors at the end anyways. That's what they got for making such a disruption. Stalker remained within the shadows, taking an opportunity to shoot out a nearby neon sign that exposed him somewhat; no one would hear the shot off to the side here.