The sound of their voices percolate like a familiar echo, alerting him to their places around the corner.

Through the red streaks of the cursed helmet, Loken's bolter glints brightest in his vision, the figure holding it cloudy and faceless. Sword gripped in his other hand, the massive slab is hurled forward like a steel missile towards this threat.

He leaps with unnatural speed, a dark blur lagging intentionally behind the weapon, causing the door to slam shut once it was no longer held in place.