Orion's mind and heart began racing when the first boom issued from somewhere outside. When another came from above their heads, his brain was in overdrive. Someone - or many someones - were making doubly certain to try and take him out. Potentially a good chunk of Roleplay Town's regular inhabitants and participants. Perhaps that was even the intention of people like the Realists: Kill off the normal roleplayers until all that remains are those that are seeking Realisation.
He and nearly all others present were fully capable of escaping in time, so Orion had no fear for them. He was, naturally, most concerned for the semi-crucified Blackest Night, who Eva still leaned over and kept her hands close to his chest, but at the same time looked to Orion and Omni. She could see both the former's hesitance, and the latter's eagerness to depart. "Omni, Mist - go, now. I'll see you out the front."
Whatever further objections or pleadings came from the two of them, they fell on deaf ears. Orion stood up from his position on the ground, ran over to Night and Eva. With hands on their shoulders, he spoke in turn to her then him: "Get in the third pod, we're leaving through the basement. I'm sorry for this, Sean, but without Eva healing you I need some other way to stem your bleeding."
With little time remaining, Orion stood up from the two of them and moved over to the master roleplay booth. Instead of pressing buttons on the little side-screen, he gripped his whole hand around it, external electrical impulses commanding the device to descend. It insisted immediately that he validate his identity - with ID, passcode, and more. He forced his mind upon it the little machine, his psychometry translating force of will into brutal security intrusions. The machine acquiesced, though it knew now who commanded it.
Settling into the booth, Orion continued speaking: "When we're going down, I'm going to knock you out with the booth's neural manipulation. I'm sorry you had to return to Roleplay Town in its current state, and that this had to happen." The half-shells closed fully on Orion and Eva's booths, most of the way on Night's - the spike protruding from his chest preventing complete closure. Their pods descended into the floor even as the roof began caving in on them in sections.
Darkness enveloped them as the floor closed over them, then the ceiling. They entered an underground space composed of dull shades and few lights. Metal columns upheld the ceiling, and between each column sat a serious of pistons and coiling cables - the mechanisms by which the basement booths ascended to the first floor.
With such an innocuous name, the space betrayed its exclusivity: Part of KHI's functional underground, it was a space usually occupied only by Lemmings, and only very occasionally accessed by moderators and administrators with the right privileges. Currently, it was unoccupied save the three of them, and it was tough to see. As Orion climbed out of his booth, the stars on his mask coalesced into bright halos around his eyes, rings of brilliant white that cut through the darkness easily.
As he had descended, he puzzled over how they were to extract Night from his pod. Unconscious, perhaps even somewhat comatose - Orion had to execute the order in a hurry - he would at least be moved without much complaint. The biggest issue was the spike in his chest, for if it could be kept in place, it could stem some bleeding, but to move him with the protrusion would require it to be cut down, and Orion saw no such tools as he swung swathes of light around the underground space.
He jumped over to Night's pod as Eva did the same, and she seemed to have also acknowledge the inevitable - as they looked across Night's pod before peering into it, Orion saw her face hard set and determined. Within the cocoon, Night's face was calm but pale, and lined with sweat. His breathing was shallower, but the bleeding around the wound seemed to have slowed down a bit, but it was hard to tell with all the black blood staining around his shirt anyway.
"You take his shoulders, I'll lift below the spike." Together they hurriedly coordinated the delicate procedure. From the left of the pod, Eva reached in with a hand around each of Night's shoulders, while Orion was practically hugging him, at his back one arm above the spike, another below it. They had to lift as straightly as possible, lest they incur further injury for him. Thankfully, the frayed end of the spike had no pieces jutting out, and it even tapered a little, such that it would be easier going the further they lifted him.
Orion counted down, wincing as he did so, knowing a fatal error could only be a few millimeters away.
A desperate, almighty roar issued from beneath the stormwater drain. A few doors down from the Academy, it was heard perfectly by Omni and Mist, who ran to investigate. From a distance, they could see fingers gripped around the bars of the grate that lay where road met gutter, and they were pushing it up.
As he heard footsteps running closer, Orion yelled to them: "Lift the concrete top!" Omni and Mist responded by stepping up onto the pavement, and digging their hands into the small, rectangular holes cut into a slab of concrete that lay in line with the grate, and heaved.
Orion pushed out the grate, and it clattered deep and loud on the street. He crawled up out of the tight space, tearing clothes and caking them in patches of mud. Without stopping, he turned to help Omni and Mist. They had the strength to lift it from its perch, but not clear of its enclosure. With his help, they hefted the slab out of its way to reveal Eva standing upright with Night in her embrace, he facing away with her glowing hands - now flickering intermittently - directly over his wound.
The three men lifted the healer and the victim together, so that Eva's body kept pressure on the rear of the wound, and the healing effect remained steady on the front. Stopping his gasping breaths, Orion listened out for the sound or sirens. Hearing none, he withdrew and unlocked his phone before putting it back into his pocket.
Physically unlocked, Orion's simple psychometric link reached out to it. He dialed instantly the emergency services number, forced the receiving phone system to bypass the ringing stage, and put him straight onto someone, broadcasting even before the phone was picked up.
He spoke as was natural habit, and the signals in the nervous system were relayed to the phone and beyond: "Orion here, now outside the Academy. We were forced to move the victim and his condition may have deteriorated. What's the ETA?" No one else heard what Orion was told, but they could guess from his reaction.