The fiery metallic machines screech at the hail of bullets, giving him the opening to pull back and take down the weaker bunch. He barely hears her, the pounding of blood in his ears, his breathing as the mask feels even tighter against his skin. Whatever is calling his name, it's seeping into the cracks of his skin and settling around his ears, cushioned by the mask now nestled firmly against his skin.

He claws at it finally, digging the sharp tips of his gauntlets into the crack and trying to dissolve himself to see if it'll change the integrity of the mask in any way. In the meanwhile, more fiery omnics march towards him, filtering in from other corridors now as they're attracted to the noise.

For the mean time, he escapes. He disappears in a hasty rush of smoke towards her, to avoid the most immediate danger for the mean time.

"Split up," he growls out, unable to stop touching at his jaw and neckline. "There's more coming in, they're attuned to me."