[h1][center]Gilgamesh Inc. Headquarters[/center][/h1]

Gene had faced certain death before, though never in as direct a form. He could survive a gunshot, maybe even a dozen gunshots. Several dozen gunshots, however, would prove to be much more problematic. He'd need a distraction if he wanted to survive the next few seconds. Something to keep these guys' attention away from him, so he could do something slightly less stupid than what he was already planning. Something that would directly take the heat off him and force people to pick their targets before continuing.

"MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOULS, FOR I HAVE NONE. AMEN!" came from outside the room. A few eyes glanced towards the exit. 
[h3]"AMEN!"[/h3] A few guards turned to face the exit. [i]Something like this.[/i] Gene thought, smiling.

Gene clutched at his right arm, as it glowed blindingly brightly. Like a cork being popped off a bottle in a paint mixer, a surge of angelic power blew through the room, knocking the rifles out of the hands of some of the guards and knocking some others off balance. The world slowed down, and Gene sped up.

Gene's right fist collided with the guard next to him like the hammer of God itself, blowing him straight into the scanner. With a sense of agility honed through years of self-training, Gene leaped over the small barricade that the guards had put up to force people into the line of the scanner, and drove his knee into the closest guard beyond it. Gene lunged forward and delivered a withering flurry of punches into the guard just in front of him, sending him crumpling to the floor. [color=goldenrod][i]Three down, and only five more to go![/i][/color] thought Gene, his mind buzzing with confidence.

It was at that point that he realized those three guards were the [i]only ones on this side of the room[/i]. They, being of sound mind and tactics, had anticipated something [i]exactly like this[/i] happening, and so planned for it. A hail of bullets thudded into Gene's center mass, hurling him backwards. The will to fight drained away from Gene like money in a Californian's bank account. As his stamina bled away, Gene briefly wondered why these bullets hadn't killed him immediately and, moreover, why they weren't made of metal.

"Infiltrator neutralized," said the most decorated member of the remaining soldiers. "Bring him up to the holding cells-- the research team'll be glad to know rubber slugs work on supernaturals."

[i][color=goldenrod]"Oh, that's right,"[/color][/i] thought Gene, as a pair of burly arms wrapped around both of his. [i][color=goldenrod]"I forgot they took us in alive."[/color][/i] Gene attempted to brace himself for a very unpleasant next few weeks in the research labs, and failed miserably before it even began.