One of the shots [i]~pinged~[/i] off of Michael’s energy shields as he scrambled for cover, exchanging covering fire at their assailants with his MH31 blaster. The semi-auto particle accelerator lit the room crimson as it fired, boiling the air around its trails. “[b]Huh, they really [i]do[/i] want me dead,[/b]” he said as he returned to cover. Holding his blaster in his organic hand, Drake held out his prosthetic hand from behind cover, the tiny camera in his palm syncing with his neural interface to get a better look at who exactly was shooting at them.