Snippet #1836950

While apparently everyone was in awe at the small girl in uniform that had just appeared, the large man had just continued trying to bring down as many rebels as possible. He had ignored the bluffing rebel leader, who had just stepped up as if this whole scene was his audience and he was standing on a podium. Of course, he had also been oblivious to Subject 11's arrival and the conversations held between the rebel leader and her.
Admittedly, the silence that slowly fell on the once hellishly noisy battlefield was off-putting, but Lazarus would pay no mind and focus his attention on the rebels; specifically, the mocking human who kept dodging his attacks.
The white-haired cyborg attempted to swing a hit with his right forearm at the man's head, which was easily avoided, and then he tried to slash him with his left hand's iron claws. He didn't quite manage to stab or mortally injure the rebel, but he effectively delivered a deep gash on his shoulder and chest; in return, having a bullet graze right past his right pauldron and splash tiny sparks.
Taking advantage of the pain the man was startled by, Lazarus' enormous mechanical hand clasped his hair and violently forced his forehead to stamp against the sharp spikes from the pauldron, barely piercing his skull -more due to the force applied than the sharpness of the spikes themselves-.

It was then that the arrival of the Anti-Mutation squad members startled him out of combat. He watched as they rushed towards the previously mentioned mutant girl, who then proceeded to murder each of them before they could even do an ounce of damage. This was getting out of control, and so were the mutants; insulting them all as if the staff's lives weren't as valuable as the special mutants because whatever. They were very intelligent, weren't they? Judging their whole race and all of the workers in MUH because they were unfortunate enough to be treated in a way they didn't like. But they were perfectly entitled to maim and gore them? THEY were entitled to take away their lives because they resented every single guard, scientist and human for no reason? The mutants were nobody, just as the rest of them were nobody. Furthermore, the Elite was more than sure that the several violent outrages of each mutant had cost the corporation far more staff lives than the spiteful treatment had cost mutants.

A deep frown wrinkled the man's pale and scarred rough features, and his destroyed lips curled behind the dark colored gas-mask with anger and bitterness. Lazarus' mechanical eye locked and zoom on the insolent girls, his right hand released soft clicks as it clenched into a fist, however before he could raise a finger against either of the youngsters, the sight of a scurrying, plump man stole his attention; one that was heading for the inside of the labs.
The cyborg squinted his eyes, not able to discern the brunette's appearance further than, again, the mechanic limb he had which had distracted him before. The recent events and the amount of unknown people on the building, he could not afford to trust the man because some foolish biased wishful thinking that he was not another of the insurgents.

Although he couldn't quite be discrete or stealthy due to both his size and weight, the crowd seemed distracted enough with the mutant mass murderer girl and the other female scientist, who for some reason was laughing in a rather inappropriate situation. Thus, the man fixed his stare in the direction the other had gone before as he slowly walked between the groups of terrorized-looking guards assembled in the Hall and hurried along only to see the elevator doors shut at the end of the short corridor. A staff member? Taking note of the floor number the elevator directed to, and giving a glance over his shoulder to the crowd, Lazarus scooted in the direction of the emergency stairs; he had never been quite light enough to use the elevators anyway. At least, not since he had been built the mechanical body for.