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As what remains of Major Pollution's forces close with the defenders, they sling their guns and pull out nasty, serrated blades, their edges gleaming with that neon-green toxic sludge. No doubt not healthy to get onto skin, to say nothing of a cut. Several attempt to surround the mech, and another handful charge at Sentinel and Zyn. One even finds itself confusedly slashing at Jeremy's stick figure.

"They're a distraction! Concentrate on Major Pollution if you can get free!" Datura calls, her vines attempting to wrap around the Major's arms and wrists, temporarily restraining him from aiming properly before he can snap them and pull away. Green lasers ping off his armor, leaving dents in the oil-slick shimmering surface.

Sentinel nods towards Vector. "Just doing what I do best!" After arriving to the battle, he waved his blade in front of him to transform it into a scimitar. "On it ma'am!" He then began trying his best to use his strength against them as he swung his sword with the strength of a barbarian. "There's a lot of them though!"

“Yes!” Things were actually going okay? As okay as they could be at least; there was still the matter of the goons. Not to mention the absolutely caustic looking major approaching them.

“Uh, uh—” What to do? The blue light is placed next to him, keeping it nearby as a lighthouse of sorts. Think! Another light, this time magenta, blooms in his hands. Okay. Pinkish.. whatever, something. He looks down to his hands.

Elephant...?

He looks up at the villains, then at his fingers, as if mentally counting down something. “Yeah, okay—Cover me, this is gonna take a while!” He yells, as he focuses on the image. More detail. More opaque. More mass. The image fluctuates in size, shape, and opacity, shifting from a childish approximation of a doodle to a pig, and back to an alarmingly large circle, as if struggling against his will, and a bead of sweat travels down his forehead. If he can just get this to work—

Zyn had taken a slice at the sniper-goon's shoulder--or tried to. He had dodged her easily, slipping back into the fog. The girl took a gasping breath, seemingly realizing how thick it had grown--

It was a major relief when the combined wind of Vector and Sentinel pushed it away, forcing the toxic gas away from the arena. Pausing for a few moments to gulp down some clean, fresh air, she raised a hand to them in thanks, turning and making her back towards the center of the room, aiming knife swings at the goons as she did so.

They seemed to be thinning out, but it was too early to celebrate--the remaining goons began to put away their guns and pulled out several serrated knives glowing with disgusting green sludge.

Grimacing, she turned and backed up another few paces, nearly bumping into Sentinel.

"Sorry--whoa! Sweet blade!" she commented. Sure, it was probably a bad time for that, but she couldn't help it.

As Sentinel and Zyn ended up fighting back to back, the goons closed around them in a ring, but for whatever reason - probably some regulation in the minion handbook - only jumped in to attack one or two at a time.

Though Sylyntz's bolstered senses still did not induce a capability to detect speech, and their visual focus was distinctly away from allied faces, the stand-off between Datura and Major Pollution was not lost on the fluffy bean. Something had to be done about these goons to clear a path. Sylyntz set off at speed once again, drifting around into a 180 degree turn to charge at the battlefield from the outside again. This time, their goal was not to pierce the middle of the fight. It was to push through as many goons as was possible. With desperate consecutive steps, like someone struggling on ice, Sylyntz changed direction and barrelled forth, one arm ahead as though to block with. But that was not the extent of their manoeuvre, for a large circular energy shield flickered into life at their elbow, which Sylyntz slammed into any goon that got in their way like some sort of high-speed robotic bulldozer. With their other arm, they aimed into the rest of the crowd and fired energy rings at any goon they could. Their aim was not perfect, of course, but they were careful not to aim anywhere that even had a chance of accidentally hitting an ally. Not every shot found its target, but not every one was a miss, either.

As some of the acrid smoke coming off the metal being eaten away by Major Pollution's footsteps reaches the ceiling, the fire suppression system is abruptly triggered, and the defenders find themselves fighting in a downpour of intense, artificial rain. The pressurized water sluices the smoke out of the air, and washes the toxic waste from the floor, but -- this also has the effect of spreading the waste out, farther, but less concentrated, before it finds its way to drains in the floor, leaving big oil-slick shimmers on the top of the flowing water that have to be jumped over or dodged around to keep ones boots from melting.

"NYAAAAAH! YOU'LL NEVER CLEAN UP MY TOXIC WASTE, DO GOODERS!" shrieks Major Pollution, attempting to send another gout of neon-green goo downfield at the defenders. The last of Datura's vines leap up to create a shield in front of Keyframe as he animation-weaves, but once they are burnt away, there is no more plant life left in the lobby - and Datura herself looks strange, her normally glossy black hair distinctly grey. She grits her teeth, looking around to take stock of their situation.

"Heeeeeeeeeey!" shrieks Vector, still running in circles as fast as she can. Her voice gets louder and softer as she blurs closer and then further away. "Who here has a driver's license??"

He’s doing his absolute best not to get hit by the lasers as well, but it’s difficult what with him being so busy with the light. He could swear he smelled burnt hair—something he’ll have to lament on later, but the very real possibility of death, or at least a tremendous amount of pain is enough to hurry him up.

He had to imagine what it must have looked like when he unleashed. Proportionate, and while not particularly detailed or as opaque as he’d like, it was definitely a decently, almost life-sized version of a ghostly and very pink elephant, silently yet angrily crashing through the remains of the fog towards the enemies. He almost celebrates the spooky apparition before taking note of the worrying lack of plant-life.

Sentinel nodded. "You're alright. You might want to stand back for a little bit. I've been known to get, how shall I say this, very explosive in combat." As soon as he'd see the goons begin attacking, he'd parry their blades as best he could. "Try this on for size!" Sentinel yelled as he commanded the earth beneath his feet to push the goons in front of him back. "Let's go!" he'd yell as he switched out his wind tunnel for a burst of energy to charge into the ones in front of him.

"YOU'REOLDENOUGHTODRIVERIGHT?" screams Vector, suddenly blurring to a stop next to Jeremy, her eyes wide. "You're too big for me to carrynooffenseit'sjustthat you'reanadult but I can tow so you're gonna have to jump okay?Onthreeonetwothree!"

Gritting her teeth, Zyn spun her own weapon again before making several lunges and slashes between parries, giving a sharp intake of breath as a toxic knife got eerily close to her skin.

"Holy fritos." she breathed, watching as Sentinel cut a way through their ring. "That was cool."

Wasting little time, she forced her way through, her gaze snapping between Major Pollution and Datura, who, she realized with a jolt looked distinctly weakened.

"We need to finish the job!" she shouted to her new ally, gesturing to the giant pink elephant that caused the goons to scatter away from it's path in terror. "Follow that elephant!"

He's somewhat keeled over, still catching his breath from the tremendous effort he's exerted, only to look up incredulously at the teenage hero. He squints, trying his absolute best to make out what on earth she's saying—driving? Jump? "W-wait, hold on slow down—what do you mean jump—?!"

"IMEAN JUMP!" screams Vector, and hopefully he does, because she grabs his hand and races down the clear space made by the charging elephant, and it would be a real shame if she dragged him on his back instead of towing him through the air. Right down the center of the Super Center and into the open hatch of the armored drill vehicle that had smashed through the wall. They stop in the cockpit, where one blurry punch downs the driver who rises and reaches for her pistol. Vector grits her teeth and shakes out her hand; super speed can't compensate for poor martial form.

"There!Go!Runhimover!" she shouts at Jeremy, gesturing frantically at Major Pollution out of the tinted windshield. "PLEASE tellmeyoucandrivestick!"

Sentinel nodded as he rushed over to Dartura. "Are you alright?" he asked as he summoned a barrier to surround himself and Dartura.

Datura is down on one knee, her face a mask of pain, but she nods her thanks to Sentinel. "I'll be fine. Nothing a little good soil won't fix. Thank goodness you're all here."

Sylyntz continued their efforts to thin the herd, pushing goons hither and thither to clear them away from both the alliance of heroes and the route to Major Pollution. They weren't entirely sure how long the batteries in the mech would last with all this energy expenditure, but it was better to spend it now than save it.