"Die!" There was no time for speeches. This was war.
Stachel had followed the conspicuous armored man into the barracks. Unluckily for him, there was only one way out, a doorway which Stachel stood in, MP5 Submachinegun in hand. Bursts of rapid-fire death sprayed through the room as hornets began to swarm in though the holes in the fort walls through which the soldiers were expected to shoot. Cannon fodder of both sides fell to the notable, most evidently where two of the aforementioned met. The barracks were an excellent example. In moments, whatever was left of the fighting was mere background noise as Stachel stood before Ivo.
"You fight well. Not for long." A quick volley of small-caliber submachinegun bullets was quickly followed by a lunch forward, Stachel extending his "Stingers" and propelling himself forth with his hidden wings. He aimed to pierce through his opponent's armor and inject venom into his bloodstream, weakening him and allowing a quick kill should the poison affect him as intended.