[Strength/throwing]

gistfile1.txt

“Fuck you, Tin Man.”
I don’t even bring up a weapon.
I grab him by the throat and raise
him high and I squeeze. At first I
think he’s making those sounds,
those hacking choking coughs, but
no: It’s Hargreave, invisible and
omnipresent as always. Hargreave,
laughing.
I throw Lockhart through the
window. He arcs down past two
stories, clears the razor wire, hits
the gravel road facedown not ten
meters from the inner compound.

Crysis: Legion, PRISM

Note: In game that glass is nanoglass 
which is bullet proof and can hold back massive amounts of water.

I’m almost wishing that these guys
were better shots because half the
rounds that don’t hit me are
smacking into the windows.
Spiderwebs are cracking through
the glass everywhere I look. I can’t
believe the windows haven’t shattered yet.
Fortunately, fragging CELL asses
and covering my own is a full-time
job. My inner eight-year-old can take a number. 
And believe it or not, when the dust finally settles
and I am the Last Corpse Standing,
that whole round wall of windows
is still keeping the water at bay.
Half a dozen panes are almost
opaque, they’re so shot through
with cracks; there are more trickles
and rivulets and needles of spray
than I can count. But there’s a
whole orphaned chunk of the
Atlantic leaning against those
windows, and goddamn it, they’re holding.
Lockhart’s gone offline. 
Or maybe he’s just sulking because I
wiped the floor with his toy soldiers. 
Hargreave keeps the flame
alive, though, riding my ass to
reboot the upper-level elevators
from the main desk. I still can’t
take my eyes off the windows, off
all that dark heavy water piled up
on the other side, but Hargreave
nags reassuringly in my ear: No
need for concern, super-nanoglass,
guaranteed floodproof

Crysis: Legion, AQUARIUM