The Purifier who Sage dropped cried out in pain as she shot at the vulnerable joints of the armour, but it didn't take long before another had rounded the corner to where she was, firing a flashbang grenade first, creating a blinding and deafening cacophony of sound. One that the armour protected it against. It would then open fire with its machine gun.

As for Vargas himself, he simply waited, listening with deafened ears as Luiza's screams died away into anguished sobs. It was unfortunate, of course, to orphan children, but perhaps without their cursed mother around, they could find the light. In any case, God would provide for them, or not. It was up to Him and not Vargas. He knew, though, that she was beyond medical help of any sort at this point.

He'd become deeply, deeply familiar with the progression of death through bleeding out. She would cling to life a little longer, yes, but death, and the judgement of God would come to her. He knew Marcelo was coming closer. He could hear the man now. He readied his blade for the arrival of the man. The Brethren wanted the man alive, of course, but they hadn't specified in which condition that would be. And if Marcelo's father was in the building, how much did it really matter that the son was alive?

Perhaps as a negotiating chip ... in any case, he would be here soon.