All went too fast for his self-imposed-weakened state. From the moment she took out the gun to shoot him, the speakers engineered as a weapon to mess with his mental processing and the lights going out.
A hasty plan but well executed one he analyzed as his brain fully woke up after so many years, brain and consciousness threats intermingling. All while the silver bullet bit him too close to his heart.
The theatrical act of taking out the gun while yelling; a means to abruptly wake his alert state.
The speakers with multiple voices; to mess with his multiple threads and sub threads, to make his body believe there are way more enemies than in truth. Saturating it.
The going out lights; an archaic method to disrupt with his eyes and in the change to conceal the trajectory of a bullet.
A pure silver bullet. Its propose obvious.
A hasty plan indeed. The theatrics worked because of the state of my body and mind. Same state that make the speakers attack null, as I didn’t have more than one threat. Even with multiple threats, it could only work if there was a imbalance of consciousness and the body. An archaic method against us. A clue. Same as the light, only worked because of the state of my body. Another clue. A bullet of pure silver as my body tells me, more of stupid’s believing than of practical use. Another clue. Inside traitors but with low interaction with the other players. A hasty plan indeed.
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“today is the day” continued the mechanical voice, but then another voice “to die blasphemous defilers of the moon” a raspy fanatical speaker intruded.
That solves a clue.
While that happen: the students like mindless drones followed the evacuation procedures just as quick as all began. While some may have tried to help, the mechanical instructions so integrated to their bodies made them evacuate even before they fully realized what happened. And when they did, it was all too late.
The teacher, frantic shoot twice more, one bullet hit him at the side of his head and the other took him in the belly. As the body felt heavy on the floor, blind of lack of light, she fired the rest of the bullets where she thought he felt. One bullet took him in the left leg and the rest failed.
Heavy breathing she left the room just right before the security door closet. All while screaming “all hail the violet moon, another defiler dead by right retribution”.
The traitors are traitors indeed. Alexander thought while looking at the ceiling, bleeding and physical tired, not only because of the bleeding, nor the silver bullets, but because of all the changes occurring in his body.
At last the door closed and a violet, black light and UV light fillet the now almost empty room.
A hasty plan indeed. At last, his consciousness faded.