A sea of bodies came into view as the smoke cleared, and a single person was standing at the front of the formation. It was none other than Quagmire himself, with wide eyes open, a confident posture, and a starkly patterned redcoat, pants and a white pith helmet. He stood as something different.
Quagmire pivoted and inserted his pistol back into the holster, and raised his right hand, his fist clenched above his head for about two to three seconds, once he got their attention. He pointed to himself, and then to his position, to which he then made a chopping motion toward the gate with his right hand.
With his right index finger, he made a circular motion in the air, and then repeated the same set of hand movements, to which he then nodded along with a thumbs up. The myriads looked among themselves confused; they just nodded back at him.
