The rumbling only continued growing in volume until it became a palpable sensation in the stomachs of each of the Freelancers present, a constant vibration that seemed to shake to the very fiber of their beings.
Something exploded through the wall. It was big, it was red, and it was PISSED, and it had just breached the wall in the middle of the group.
Its right arm came around from one side with a loud, anguished cry, and the bulkhead it was wielding smashed into Illinois, cracking through his shields and sending him flying across the room in a fantastic display of ragdoll physics. As the Freelancer hit the wall, his unshielded visor shattered as it hit a stub of bent rebar, littering the inside of the helmet and the immediate area with glass.
While Illinois was hurtling through the air at breakneck speed, several sickly green glows on the thing's shoulder became apparent, and they flew almost directly at its feet before exploding, hurling Agent Jersey into the air. With another scream of inarticulate rage, the thing spun, the bulkhead on its other arm connecting with the Freelancer and sending him into the opposite wall. The reinforced concrete shattered, and it used its circular momentum to carry it into a pair of lumbering steps, lowering its shoulder and taking Jersey through the wall with it. It continued into the prison's recreation area as the roof above its impromptu 'enter' and 'exit' doors cracked, caving in and sealing the routes outside.
Those inside were left with their original option of moving forward, and only forward.
As light hit the armor of the Lekgolo colony once more, it slowed, the shattered armor of the Freelancer dropping off of its shoulder and hitting the ground. Whatever armor he was wearing was now useless, and it lowered a bulkhead rolling the human over. It seemed to stare into the dead viewscreen, waiting for it to move.
And then Jersey heard a loud battle roar that did not come from the Hunter standing over him. The Hunter, seemingly losing interest in the immobile human looked up before an Elite that was almost as tall as it was and wearing ODST armor slammed into it, growling at it.
(Again, it bitchslapped you (as in not full strength hit) through a -concrete wall- hard enough to break the internal components of your armor... you couldn't get up to fight him, not to mention ever stand a chance of -hurting- it while that injured.
Alabama scratched his helmet looking at the mess, "Well..... That was.... eventful...." He said with a shrug before doing the only thing he could do, move forward. Even though it would most likely lead to an inevitable doom, and more or less getting bitched slapped by a chieftain through the floor.
Illinois Regained consiousness. Thankfully his worst injuries were a broken wrist (left) Three ribs and a broken nose. He opened his eyes slowly, careful not to leave for fear of furthur injuries or drawing the notice of the hunter.