Focused upon piercing the darkness with his Incepta-given sight alone, it was a wonder that Theobald could make out anything at all. Though he attempted to find the other Scions within the biggest spheres of activity, he could barely make out the individual humanoid figures moving in the shadows, let alone any specific faces.
But as he stared out into the dim lighting, he began to notice the strange, red dots that seemed to come from nowhere that shone from multiple corners of the room. Aiming his weapon at one of the lights, he could just barely make out a hooded figure making their escape just as a loud wail pierced his ears. Barely twitching from the noise, it was the strange emptiness that overtook his body that caught his attention.
Though at first it seemed nothing important was affected, not feeling anymore tired than usual nor weaker in any respect, it was when he started to hear more screams than usual from the familiar voices of Scions around the room that he realized the problem. Drawing his stance tighter as to make himself at least slightly a smaller target in the near perfect dark, his eyes had barely started to adjust to the essentially blind surroundings before another loud noise shook his senses.
The cavalry had arrived, bringing the light from outside the manor along with them.
With the new sources of illumination, he could finally catch what he'd been missing. The Scions of Metal and Shadow, watching each other's backs while their Templars sped to their aid. Maya and Edmund, scrambling to save themselves as their powers failed them for a brief moment. A formation of rock in the shape of a person and the Templar of Earth by its side, with five masked soldiers on the ground in front of it lacking everything below their knees. The distinct lack of the Scions of Light and Lightning, a fact that made the soldier's hands ball into fists.
But it was the wall of ice, assaulted by many of the masked men while the Templar of Water was under duress, that made Theobald move.
Expecting that Hollyhock, as the most experienced Scion with her Templar in arm's length, knew what she was doing, the former soldier left her behind as he sprinted toward the frozen barricade with thundering steps. With the ballroom well-lit and the people finally being directed by someone with sense, he didn't slow even a hair to avoid any civilians as he rose his gunblade to bear.
One. Two. Three heavy slugs were fired at the assailants. The first was a warning, crashing into the ice and cracking it harder than any of the masked men had with the butts of their rifles, drawing their attention. The second pierced one of their arms, causing the gunman to drop his weapon and fall to the ground stunned. And the last, hitting center of mass, the giant too close to miss and shattering another assailant's chest in a shower of shrapnel and blood.
The remaining guns raised in retaliation, the former soldier grasped a table as he ran past it, heaving it with his superior strength and throwing it down in front of him. The rifle rounds dug into the furniture just in time, obscuring his position and forcing them to hesitate as he leapt over his own man-made obstacle to stab one of the still-standing two on his way down, crushing their sternum under his weight at the blade cracked their mask and dug into their skull.
In a moment of panic, the last attempted to swing their gun around and fire their rifle point blank, but Theobald caught the barrel of the weapon in his hand just before it could center upon his forehead. The first bullet still grazed his cheek, his ears ringing from the gun discharged rapidly so close to his head and the skin of his palm boiling from the heated gun barrel. It didn't change the outcome for the final assailant, however, pulling them close with their hands still gripping onto the gun as he rose his bicep to meet their rapidly incoming body, clotheslining them hard enough to make their feet leave the ground and slam the back of their head into the tiles beneath.
The former soldier stood there for a moment, his gaze rapidly moving around to make certain all threats were neutralized while the ear closest to the rifle spilled blood, only stopping when he found no one else to fight. His balance was shot, at least until he recovered enough for his temporary lack of a working eardrum to settle, but he had enough sense to pull out a knife and finish off the two still-living intruders before they could get up for round two.
Splattered with blood from the up-close executions of those final two assailants, Theobald let out a sigh as he leaned against the ice wall, knocking on it in a specific morse code only known to certain soldiers. Those who had fought within the Rosaria-Lanvaldear campaign would know it as the 'friendlies with no hanger-ons' signal, a battle he knew the person inside hadn't been apart of personally but mayhaps heard of due to her relation to it.
"I have rectified my mistake," the Scion of Fire spoke aloud, not even certain his fellow Scion could hear it as he could barely hear himself.
It was something that had gnawed on him for many years, a blunder he made as a young man that even after his tours upon the Rodiaon-Kaudian warfront he never had a chance to redeem. Though he didn't expect any thanks, as they had never interacted personally, he hoped at the very least that his quick dispatch of the assailants looked good for his reputation as he ejected the mana battery from his gunblade. Slowly, he slotted in five new slugs to replace the ones he fired, watching the surroundings just in case a new threat attempted to get the jump on him and his temporary charge.
"Will they reprimand me if I ignore that command to escape until someone notices?" Theobald grumbled to himself, watching the reinforcements do their job from the sidelines as he prepared to throw himself back into the fray.