[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ktlhhm5.png[/img][/center] Beautiful. An incomprehensible trajectory left a fiery afterimage in his eyes, the supersonic projectile erratically dancing through the darkness before curving past Callan’s head and piercing right into the eye of the gargoyle. It remained there, reduced to a scorch mark within the monstrous subnatural’s bones, but the damage had been done. Blood oozed from the ruined eye and bubbled within her mouth as she shook violently. [color=B0C4DE][i]Felt that, you bitch? Enjoyed that?[/i][/color] A different smile emerged, all teeth and anger, as he drank in the sight before him, hands squeezing against a weapon that was about to burst from the seams, a gun that was only barely able to hold itself together. This…sitting over 100 meters away, capable of killing while safe from a counter attack…this was cowardly and disgusting and yet oh so likeable. Another shot. He wanted another meaningless, wasted, emotionally-fuelled shot that had no chance of actually hitting. Ah, he w- [hr] A meaningless garden of knowledge spread out before him, a million meanings held by unseen branches that he could not reach with those hands of his. No matter how high he jumped, no matter what he climbed on, no matter if he could will himself to fly or not, they shifted further away. He understood that, instinctively, that there was nothing here for him. The powers, the talents, the abilities within this empty world were forbidden fruits that would not be swayed by a passionless individual such as himself. He looked at his hands, callused and empty, before curling each finger, one by one by one. But that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? To gain strength through his own means, to forsake this indulgent garden, this ocean of words that had so thoughtlessly pushed undeserved power onto himself. He won’t devour those scraps of power. No, he would cultivate his own, even if the silver blood within him was just as directionless as this garden that bore fruits without trees. Before him, a fruit dropped into emptiness, disappearing into the hands of another, but he did not protest. [color=B0C4DE]“Take it.”[/color] That [i]other[/i] can feast thoughtlessly. He will propagate his power through his own efforts and match that empty fortune. [hr] -ould not shoot. That vision happened once more, a split second’s worth of revelations and enhancement as the silver blood coiled and developed further, but, beyond the dream, he had been granted something else. The chance to calm himself, to repress all the unpleasant emotions broiling underneath once more. The Desert Eagle was at a breaking point, while the battle continued on in the distance. The scope, warped as it was, turned the scene into a distorted mess, while arcane energy overflowed, spewing out gouts of power that evaporated into the atmosphere. At this point, he would no longer be able to fire without the weapon exploding. As a matter of fact, this was simply a liability now. So Brent discarded it. As it left his fingers, the gun’s form dissolved, straining to return to its original form after so many transformations. Clattering onto the ground, the barrel turned into a corkscrew while the hilt had split into two. The trigger was bent at a ninety degree angle, while the scope had cracked, bits of glass scattering onto the patio. Now, at this range, he was more or less useless. Just an observer. Good. He breathed out, pushed his volatile feelings towards Savannah’s death into a different part of his brain, locked it up with heavy duty chains, and welded it shut in a nuclear bunker. A waste. An unnecessary attack driven by a need to release some anger. Stretching his legs, Brent finally stood up and began to ran, three steps at a time down the staircase of the apartment building. The handrail guided his descent while his eyes flickered at the quickly developing scenario that had unfolded on the screen. More allies were convening on the spot, which was…good? The door out of the lobby was kicked open, Brent rushing out of the building and looking down the street once more. Oh shit. No, this was definitely bad. Caught in the massive yellow pillar that telegraphed the levitation girl’s power, everything was floating up. If nothing else, the map on his phone had shown that the APC, with Sophia inside, had made it out, but now, with this levitation ability suppressing everyone, their options were locked down. Sander, the berserking behemoth, had jumped into the fray, shredding apart the Middle Eastern aberration, but was now restrained by her power. Zoe, diving into the battle, was so consumed by bloodlust that she was…tearing apart Callan?! Brent’s hand reached for the gun that he had already discarded, and cursed himself for that. Marcus had managed to use his own powers to anchor himself in place with Lawrence’s body, while the spike girl was in a melee with Siena, the cage of spikes surrounding Emma put on hold for now. They needed backup, someone who could fly. They needed to shut down the raven-haired levitation mage, before they rose up too high. They needed someone else with ranged abilities. Grego, where was, Grego? … WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE EVEN DOING, SO FAR AWAY?! Brent’s calm disposition was failing him once more, and he clutched the radio phone as he rushed towards the boundary of the levitation field. Angelic’s order to Chris rang through his cuff, but even a command like that only served to blow his mind. [i]Hazel[/i] needed help? Even after seeing that same Hazel trivialize the brass and steel armor of all those clockwork monsters before? Was Angelic even AWARE of what was happening? For all her talk of strategizing, could it be that the sonic aberration was really just a retarded metalhead? His combat knife was pulled out of its sheath, silver blood coursing into it as he ran down the street. [color=B0C4DE][b]“CHRIS! IGNORE ANGELIC’S ORDER. HEAD TOWARDS THE BEACON OF YELLOW LIGHT NOW! I NEED YOU TO FLY IN AND BEGIN PULLING PEOPLE OUT OF THE FIELD! HURRY THE HELL UP, BEFORE THAT LEVITATION BITCH DECIDES TO DROP THEM ALL.”[/b][/color] The knife, turned into a projectile weapon, creaked as another dose of silver blood shot through it. [color=B0C4DE]“[b]EMMA[/b],” [/color]Brent shouted, before restraining himself further, [color=B0C4DE]“…I know you’re in a bad spot right now, but calm down. Siena’s taking care of the spike manipulator. While she’s distracted, you need to use tank dude to break apart the spikes, summon pull dude beside Marcus and Lawrence, and get everyone together. We’re almost done. We can almost go home. Chris is flying here right now to get everyone out of this field. But right now, you’re the only one that can bring people together, so that he can get you all out at once.”[/color] He grimaced. The last time he had encouraged her, didn’t she end up laughing like a crazed psychopath before they both got tazed? [color=B0C4DE]“…you were the reason why our team lasted a whole ten minutes in Flag and Seek. You were the reason why those centipedes couldn’t do their encirclement strategy. You’re the one person here with a range on her powers that’s literally infinite. Hazel’s an avatar of destruction, Sander’s an unkillable juggernaut, Siena’s power is all the powers…but Emma, you’re the MVP right now.”[/color] Ugh, he could hear in the background, even more infighting and stupidity, but he pressed on. [color=B0C4DE]“Collect your thoughts, figure out your orders, and execute your plan.”[/color] Ugh, how much of this did he actually believe in? [color=B0C4DE]“You can do this.”[/color] He stopped at the boundary of the field, the ballistic knife primed for… Shit, what exactly WAS he going to do? Kill the person that’s currently preventing everyone else from falling to their deaths? Aim and shoot the spike subnatural who’s currently keeping Emma more or less in range of Marcus? There were no good options. All he could do was fucking talk, because once again, he lacked the materials he needed to DO something. [color=B0C4DE]“You can do this,”[/color] Brent repeated, even as his mind raced for a method that would allow someone else to do this. Gah, if only he had her powers. [@Diggerton][@dragonmancer] [hider=Cliffnotes] Combat Knife: 3 minutes First Clock: Ballistic Firing Second Clock: Projectile Speed Desert Eagle warped and discarded in the apartment. Currently beside the building and at the boundary of the levitation field. [/hider]