Don't say I didn't warn you.
>Transferring control
>Building character profile
>assessing morality
>assessing situation
>assessing assets
>Complete
>Running
Without wasting a moment <character> steps forward, being almost immediately entombed within the ball of flesh. Several seconds later the grenades detonate, spraying the room with shrapnel but injuring <character> only slightly. As the dust begins to settle a large group of men, 20 or so, charge down the stairs, weapons at the ready. They look upon the fleshball with disgust and fear but not suspicion, believing it to be nothing more then the horribly mutilated remains of their comrades. As they search for who or what did such a thing several eyes bubble into existence on the surface of the ball. The first blow is nearly unnoticeable, a razor sharp splinter of bone fired at near supersonic speed through the skull of one of the men. Three more similar bolts are fired before the men can even turn to see what is attacking them. By the time their rifles are lined up with the boiling mound of living flesh three men are dead and another is attempting to hold in is disgorged innards.
<character> bursts from his cocoon, his body covered in a heavy bone carapace, and catches the closest man by the throat. <character> drives his fist into the captured man's chest, causing the man's skeleton to fragment and spray, shotgun like, out of his body. Several men collapse beneath the withering hail of bone shrapnel, but the rest begin firing, almost instantly shattering <character>'s bone armor. Propelled by inhumanly powerful legs <character> leaps forward, his arms transforming into massive, barbed tentacles which lash out maul several more men. Garbled screams and grunts issue from punctured lungs and throats as the tentacles envelop and hurl men about the room. As <character> retracts his tentacles he is struck by an explosive grenade round and hurled several feet backwards into one of the steel bookshelves. The men move to finish off the bizarre monster but they suddenly find themselves under attack from behind. The soldier in back walks forward jerkily, as though unsure of his own movements, spraying rounds into the backs of his allies. When it is done 17 lie dead, 2 are terribly injured, and the final survivor seems completely incapable of controlling his movements.
<character> pulls himself from the wreckage of the bookshelf, blood quickly running back up from the ground and into his knitting wounds. With a uncaring gesture he commands the fresh corpses to rise and meld with the mound of flesh, creating a ball roughly 7 foot in diameter. With a thoughtful air <character> walks to the side of the one man who was left standing and examines him carefully, slowly nodding his head. After a moment <character> draws the captured man's side arm and with careless disinterest shoots him several times in the chest. Nearly every surface of the room is coated in blood but it seems otherwise secure. <character>'s clothing was destroyed but his belongings were safely stored within the flesh mound.
>turn complete