Hal pressed his back against the headstone, a few more bullets ricocheting around him. He didn't know what the deal with the crazy surge of energy was, but he wasn't willing to put any kind of uncertainty against a very real, very physical bullet. Someone yelled, then a few shots clattered into what sounded like metal. Hal risked a peek around the stone, to be rewarded with another hail of shots and one... well, somewhat valuable piece of information. Someone else was here fighting his opponents too, though it looked like they were roughly in the same weapon situation he was. Eventually--probably sooner, rather than later--they were going to get tired of wasting likely scarce bullets and come for him.

But what about...

He looked down at his scarf, then smiled slightly and flicked it back around his neck again as the sounds of fire started to die down, the world fading once more into a transparent, dreamy state... And his own presence vanishing from the eyes of any watching. Hal leaped up, sprinting out from behind the tombstone and toward the first of the four advancing toward him, his bident seeming to move of its own accord. One swat knocked the gun out of his hand, the following jab to his leg causing him to drop to the ground in pain.

Not... Not death though.

Which was more than Hal could say for the other's victim. A second shriek shook the cemetery, another surge of black energy blasting out of his body and smashing into Hal, his staminia leaping again.

There was only one problem.

They had a pretty damn good idea of where he was.