Vincent's own weapon was in his hand as they moved, his steps silent even though he was clad in metal-adorned leathers. His red cape obscured much of his face, leaving his crimson eyes to peer around at his surroundings. This did not, by far, mark the first time he faced an unknown foe, but it was the first he'd done so without his friends. It left an ache in his chest he shoved aside, a homesickness he turned into a fuel against whatever beast might be waiting for them.

He skipped backward as the undead clawed their way to the surface, leveling the barrels of his gun toward them, shaking his other arm, clad in a bronze claw, from from his cape. "Mmm." One rose close to him and he opted for a quick swipe of his clawed hand rather than wasting ammunition on it.

"Cannon fodder. A distraction." It knew they were coming.