And Zach will fall away from the wall, blinking at the suddenness, as the goo on the floor is dissipating into nothingness. "...nice work.
As for you..." He turns on the cultists, flicking his fingers and having a steel ball bearing show up between each pair of fingers. The motion is smooth, practiced, and brings a devious and grim smile across his features.
"Moob, tohsdaeh." The pieces of steel fly forth, catching the man in the temple, throat, and solar plexus as surely as if they'd been launched from a high-tension slingshot.
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