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Voreese was still talking to him, but Hector just kind of motioned with his hands and she seemed to intuit what he was trying to say. While they waited, he took the opportunity to examine the aftermath of his iron cannon.

It was all contorted and bent out of shape. Molten goo was seeping out through visible fissures in the iron near the exit, and all the lingering steam looked like would've been sizzling quite loudly if he could hear it. He annihilated his work in pieces, wanting to understand the internal damage a bit better instead of just dematerializing everything at once.

Garovel arrived first, phasing up through the ground and grabbing Hector's ankle to invoke the regeneration.

Not long afterward, Hector sensed Roman's approach with the Scarf, and then the man's voiced arrived from above. "Excuse me, sir, but what the fuck was that shit?"

Hector pressed his lips together flatly, fighting back a smile as he turned to look. "Are you okay? I hope, er--"

Roman's right arm was missing. It wasn't bleeding, though, having apparently been cauterized already. Voreese flew over to help him, and it soon began regrowing. His pale, sweaty face regained color, as well.

'He did warn you,' said Voreese publicly.

Garovel hovered over to Hector, saying nothing but eyeing the truck-sized iron tube nearby as molten goo spilled out of it, visibily distorting the area with a heat haze.

Roman's feet touched ground with a slight thud, and then Hector noticed the collection of shields hovering in behind him. They'd been at this all morning, so there were quite a few of them.

'You didn't miss that last one, did you?' asked Voreese.

Roman exhaled a ragged breath. "No, I got it." He waved his hand and brought one of the shields closer, into his left hand and held it up.