Shef and YukiYou two enter through the front, attracting a few glances, though no words are spoken. The racket seems to be coming from above, consistent with the civilians leisurely moving back downstairs at a rather relaxed pace. Pushing through the crowds, you two reach the third floor.
Absolute. Fucking. Chaos.
Right off the bat, two storm minds activate as you enter. One of them lunges, brandishing a familiar gatling gun, with a horrid mechanical shriek, the weapon swiftly pinned against a wall by a fire axe, the toaster-headed Mononoke that was wielding it bringing the other to bear. The Automaton ducks the blow, abandoning its weapon. With a swing of its arm, it grabs the nearest implement - a twelve-inch monster of a marital aid, and holding it as if it were a rapier, parries the next swing. The weapons trace brilliant arcs from each swing to each cataclysmic clash, the resonating impacts echoing through the store amidst the shockwaves unleashed by their raw power.
The other storm mind too finds itself swiftly disarmed, this time from when its sword connects mid-swing with the electrified bat of the microwave-headed Mononoke, sending both weapons flying off and embedding into the walls. The microwave grabs a nearby whip, testing it with a swift lash before swinging it at the retreating construct, this time the weapon wreathing in a blinding corona of lightning. The storm mind dives behind a container full of sqweels - some manner of ridiculous contraption that amounts a motorized wheel with soft 'tongues' before leaping up and hurling said devices out like a storm of shuriken. The sqweels activate, sawing their way along surfaces before ricocheting back into the air like a swarm of infernal buzzsaws.
One of the living shadows conjures a combat shotgun out of darkness, cocking it with a single hand before opening fire, shadowy bolts erupting in eerie silence towards, a bulky-looking though unarmed Monoke with an old fashioned cathode ray tube television for a head. Diving out from cover, another Mononoke, this one looking more in line with the microwave and toaster, albeit in having a fan for a head, opens up a black umbrella, the shots splashing and breaking apart across the surface of its barrier, the chaotic abyssal energies roiling and crashing into their surroundings with unpredictable curving trajectories. The other living shadow swings its arm, conjuring a halberd to cleave apart the mannequin the television just threw at it.
Minato and Faith can arrive in half a turn.
Noriko and Yoake can arrive in two turns if you contact them now.