Michael
The immortal allowed a frown at the emptiness of the broadcast room, taking a moment to look the room over. Aside from the broadcast equipment and a couple desks, the room was quite empty.
Wait, were those guys upstairs the leaders? Pantheon's sake, that was a disappointment.
The sound of gunfire echoed in faintly, a chaingun of some sort from the sound. Before Michael could wonder just what kind of hardware these gangers had at their disposal, footsteps sounded in from above and a familiar shape fell down right front of him, inches from his face as it passed by, striking the floor beneath with a metallic thunk.
Huh.
The immortal barely enough time to turn away and start to cover his head when the flashbang went off with a blinding flash and deafening bang. While Michael had avoided the worst of it, hearing and sight would definitely not be senses he could rely on for the moment. Touch, however, was as reliable as ever, Michael quickly moving back, knocking over one of the desks and taking cover behind it, enhancing it in preparation for the follow-up. As expected, the vibrations from the impact of another few grenades registered soon after.
Though the sound of the grenades going off seemed distant, the shrapnel bouncing against the enhanced desk was perfectly clear. Judging by what he could feel at this point, it seemed that they were coming in to finish the job. Sight would be slow to recover, but hearing would be adequate soon enough.
Well, not that I need it.
To their credit, coming in from above would have been the right move under normal circumstances. Even if their target had survived the grenades, they'd be blind, deaf, disoriented, and heavily injured, so having to go in one at a time through hole in the floor wouldn't have been a problem. Under normal circumstances.
Of course, a reward was in order for their more measured approach, and Michael was all too happy to oblige. Allowing a smirk, the immortal waited a moment longer before exploding from his cover, sending the table flying into him with enough to slam him back against the wall, leaving a trail of blood as he slid down to the ground. Deciding that this pace was a bit too slow for him, Michael leapt back up through the hole he'd made with an almost feral grin on his face as he looked down at them, his momentum carrying him to the ceiling before he turned and kicked off it, launching himself into the nearest of them.
By the time he was finished, his hearing had mostly come back to him and sight was passable at least, though he was sure he'd be hearing that annoying ringing for a while longer. It was at this point, however, that he noticed another sound, this one far less morbid than the sound of someone trying to draw breath through a collapsed windpipe.
Music?
Glancing back down the hole, Michael saw that the grenades had done horrible things to the broadcast equipment, but it seemed to be functioning nonetheless, and apparently broadcasting something from the nearest radio station. The cracked and flickering display indicated that the song was apparently called 'Shoot to Thrill'.
...Not the weirdest, but definitely up there.
Allowing a shrug, the immortal decided to wait for the moment as the music echoed throughout the prison, blaring on every functioning speaker.
