While Melissa was preparing to get into the fight and Willow was shooting the shotgun, the confusion of the pincer attack was enough to get guns to fire in every which way.  The knee-jerk reaction with many shots aimed at Willow rather than Melissa.  In that split moment, the time before he pulled the trigger, there was a voice screaming at him through his headphones.

"Shoot. Move. Floor." The moment he shot the gun and threw the shotgun to Melissa, Willow spun around on his feet and sat down on the ground in an Indian-style sitting position.  Only to shove his staff into the ground, "Summer Solstice!" He shoved the weapon down to the ground, sliding along on the ground while the weapon struck it. He wouldn't be going as far as he normally would, but it got him to immediate safety while the blizzard kicked up.  In the time that he had ducked down and shots were fired, there was friendly crossfire.  One of the few things that Willow hoped happened against ranged opponents.

While he was out of range of the immediate blizzard, his breath was still apparent. Even the ghosts that rose up out of his body were clutching themselves and shivering, as if drawn in like cartoon expressions.  But while Willow was readying himself to get up off the ground, three guns were pointed at him.  He could only smile in a nervous manner and put up his hands while those ghosts came out of his body to swarm and attack the men that aimed their weapons at Willow.

He wasn't expecting the reaction he got out of them when the ghosts phased through their bodies.  They all seemed to get mopey. Dropping their weapons and straight to their knees while two looked up at the ceiling in a dejected manner, the other looking at the ground in a crouched down position while drawing useless shapes in the floor with their finger.

Willow got up to his feet while other marines were focusing on getting everything together, ready to get to action, and Melissa was doing her thing.  Willow could hear the three dejected marines mumbling about how everything would be better if they were just dead, that it wasn't worth bothering, that they just gave up.

Was this--was this a power of his devil fruit? To force negativity onto people and make them act as if they weren't really who they were?  It was worth experimenting, but first Willow had to shove a table over and take cover behind it while random bullets flew across in the air.  He was grazed along the leg and shoulder, wincing at the sudden sting on his body, but it wasn't enough to take him down.  He needed a plan, he needed to think.

If only that voice could help him out right now, but no, it was needing another one of those rests it always took. Leave it to the disembodied voice of a girl to always get tired after saving your life right? That was a perfect rationalization.