Jaron woke up and immediately regretted it. His chest felt like it was on fire, and he was fairly positive that he was concussed. He looked at his chest to find that, though the spot where the rib had poked through was still bloody and open, the bone had receded back into his body. Magic tended to accelerate the healing process though it didn't [i]always[/i] seem to. Though he was thankful that it had, it left him with less access to less mana to conjure from. Besides, based on the pain in his chest, his ribs hadn't fully healed quite yet. He stood up and was surprised to find that the ache didn't worsen. He'd be able to move, but he was willing to bet that one solid blow to hid torso would re-break his rib. He limped towards the smoldering wreck that was his Honda Civic. Despite being the most boring car ever, it had a special place in his heart. He had had it for the past couple of years and was sorry to see it go.

	He pulled out his phone and swore. It was completely shattered. He tossed it to the ground and stomped on it, wincing at the wave of pain that followed the sudden movement. He needed to get to the home base, but it was easily another four miles away. Plus, the strewn about cars and massive cracks on the ground were blocking his path.

	[i]Looks like the old man is going to have to go this one alone.[/i] He thought. He swore again, upset that his mentor was getting all the action, and limped off, resigning himself to helping the civilians within the city.