Time slows to a crawl as Hank's bow remains trained on the fallen rouges, and he eyes the door waiting for someone or some thing to burst forth. The pools of blood spread and the door remains firmly shut. Poor scrubs...
Hank lowers his guard, searches the dart throwers, and scans the room for signs of what might be behind the next door. Well, team. This looks like the last door on this level. Let's gather here. Mist and I can provide cover for you, Niko and Yuki, if you would be so kind as to charge into the face of danger.