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He’s only momentarily distracted by the serious looking guy from earlier, wondering what on earth he could—“Oh, damn.” He breathed. That was a COOL weapon.

No, wait, concentrate. He focuses back, or at least tries to in the middle of the whole chaos. He’s about to fret and fully panic when Datura’s instruction brings him back, having him nod wide-eyed.

“Okay, alright, h-here we go—“ He focuses on his hands, watching a ball of light come to life, growing, and growing. At his chest’s size, it’s just another stickfigure, with a crudely drawn sword, but it will do. It’s stretched out again for good measure, this time comically elongated, and with some concentration...

The figure takes on the poses expected of a normal walk, ending with a swish of its sword, before actually walking off in a straight line towards the minions, looping those movements. Right, that wasn’t too bad. Now if he can get three more out there—

Vector takes just a moment to gawk at "Keyframe's" weird power. Was he gonna end up working with the Bisney channel too? Luckily, it's a moment to her, so it goes by fast enough that only another speedstar could have seen it.

Zyn didn't think she'd find herself using the previous day's training quite so soon, but now she was extremely thankful it had happened. She slid to the side to dodge a laser that had been shot in her general direction, and was trying to prepare herself to do it again when the huge wall of vegetation grew up from the floor, providing a barrier between them and the goons.

With a nod to Datura to show she understood the instructions, she twirled her blade around in her fingers, taking a deep breath and trying to steady herself. She was trying to take it seriously, but was somewhere between 'holy-fritos-we-could-all-die' and 'holy-moly-this-is-really-cool'

"Focus, Zyn!" she reminded herself through gritted teeth. She allowed herself a brief glance at the heroes beside her, taking note of the way they prepared themselves for battle.

Man, maybe if she survived this, they'd allow her to play with some of the cooler gadgets back home. For, ah, self defense, of course.

"Ready!" Datura calls to the group of defenders, "3, 2, here we go--"

When the wall of foliage drops, there's a thick green-grey fog rolling out of the vehicle's open hatch, filling the room with noxious gas that makes the eyes sting and throat close up. That explains the gas masks all the goons are wearing. Spectacularly backlit by red light, a tall figure in black armor, sculpted to look like a set of very masculine muscles strides out of the hatch, cackling maniacially. His black cape billows behind him, his own gask mask in the shape of a bug-eyed skull. Wherever he steps, an acid-like substance pools and sizzles, eating into the very metal of the floor.

Datura's vines go from wall to whips, harrying the goons and attempting to entangle them, but the small army continues to fight its way forward, squeezing off shots at the defenders. Behind them, Major Pollution stretches a hand out toward Datura in an almost-claw like attitude, and from his palm streams a fire-hose torrent of neon-green toxic waste. It even glows faintly. Datura dives aside, but where ever the spray splatters her vines, they rapidly die back.

With a flash, a new arrival enters the building via the teleporter. But it is neither superhero nor media nor even plucky sidekick... no... instead, a sleek mechanised machine stands proud and at the ready, a couple of feet taller than a human, its humanoid shape both sporty and elegant. Futuristic and robust. And open upon its torso, a small cavity, far too compact for a human to fit into sits ready. A cavity... suspiciously proportioned to fit a certain someone. Large powerful-looking fists at the ready, the mech bounded forth a couple of steps, then skated across the ground atop an azure-blue energy cushion, its destination Sylyntz's hiding place. Once the mech had reached the fluffy bean, it lifted them up and carefully deposited them in its torso, hatch closing with a satisfying whoosh sound.

No longer controlling the mech remotely, Sylyntz surrendered their senses over to machine and took direct command. They were raring to go. Data from various sensor readings flooded into their mind to make up for their deafness. The mech turned to face the conflict and took a ready pose as it prepared to charge into the fray.

“Oh… yikes—“ the quip costs him, already coughing at the foul smell from that distance. His eyes are fine for now at least, what with the mask, and the gas still working its way through, but honestly for how long with a Halloween mask—

He pulls his shirt up by the neckline over his nose, and it only somewhat helps. The appearance of the machine was a surprise, but definitely a welcome one once he realises it's on their side?

Can the others see, at least? He sends off the other three stickfigure sword men, glowing red as they entered the toxic fog, unstopping. In his own hand, he prepares a blue light, waving it to the others. “G-guys…window?! Or, or wind!” If only someone could summon a tornado, or—"H-hey! Vector?" He coughs again, searching for the teen. "H-how fast can you go?"

Vector squeezes the trigger of her super cool laser gun several times, but it quickly jams, not really meant to be fired off at supersonic speeds. She wrinkles her nose, slapping the gun, but quickly drops it and glances toward Jeremy. "Uhh... Faster thanaspeedingbullet? Literally? Likeliterallyliterally. It's inmythemesong?"

This speech accomplished, she blurs forward into the cloud of toxic gas, running in speed-blurring circles to kick up enough wind to corral the bulk of the gas in a mini-tornado. Unfortunately, there being nowhere else to send the smoke, she seems to be stuck continuing to run these circles and dodging goons. This definitely annoys her as she can't stop to do more cool poses, but she's professional enough at supering, not just teen TV starring, to keep at it anyway. "OhgeezohgeezohgeezohGEEZ," she mutters, watching her silver-white costume almost curdle to black in the noxious smoke. "DunnohowlongIcandothisgang!"

Zyn let out a series of hearty coughs, sincerely wishing she had bought that crazy whole-face mask now. She could hardly see through the tears that were welling up in her eyes, and would be extremely relieved later that she had managed to spot one of the goons taking aim at her.

Going on the offensive, she ran toward the goon, pausing briefly to dodge another laser, feeling it nearly graze her shoulder as she ducked into a slide, ramming the broad side into his ribs. He gave a hefty grunt and fell over, flailing and saying something intelligible.

Another shot caught her attention, this time deflected by the shield conjured by her weapon. It seemed she was not the intended target however, but rather someone behind her, waving a blue light through the fog, presumably in an attempt to gather their allies.

Scowling deeper, she made a run for the goon, raising her weapon, hardly aware of the goings on behind her.

Sentinel looked upon the battlefield. "What is it down there? A noxious gas?" He then noticed the mech. "Oh. Sweet." He began to think on a power to adapt. He then began to conjure the winds around him, forming his own wind tunnel. "There's a storm brewing now!" He then began to push the wind forward, hoping to either dissipate the gas or push it away. After that, he began to charge.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyooooou!" trills the teen to Sentinel, as he assists with his own wind tunnel.

Sylyntz let loose with the energy-assisted boots, skating onto the battlefield, throwing luminescent sparks out with each motion. They raised the arms of the mech out forward, energy welling up in the flared cuffs that accompanied the wrists. With a low-sub-sonic blast each, rings of blue energy shot forth, pushing aside a pair of goons ahead as though they were solid objects. Sylyntz skidded and drifted to a stop amidst the carnage and adjusted their pose to one more in-line with martial arts than energy-slinging. It was time to punch some bad guys!