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	Basilisk let out a monstrous bellow that could be heard above the rattling sound of gunfire and the battling capes behind him, he could feel each of the slugs as they hit his solid hide, welting or penetrating depending on where they struck him. Glancing blows leaving streaks of angry greenish red flesh in their wake and the shots that he could feel sinking slugs into his arms and torso spattered blood forcefully with each reckless swing of his trunk like limbs. Fallen soldiers were laid down with strikes of his palms, struck senseless and his heavy steps destroying their dropped weapons under stomps that fractured bone and gunmetal alike. One unlucky bastard would feel the spikes on the behemoth’s tail growing back as it wrapped around their torso, small but sharp, before being lifted and used as a bludgeon to strike down others who were caught with empty clips.

	By the time the gunfire stopped Basilisk could already feel his body pushing out the first couple of slugs from his lungs and gut, blood dripped from his jaw where the back of his throat had caught a few more bullets and he coughed. It was always the worst wounds that were tended to first by his power, stitching his flesh together with a feeling of writhing serpents beneath his thick hide, all so he could bleed freely. These Fallen thugs wouldn’t be rising again any time soon as he stood among them, already able to feel the tacky and quickly drying blood on his skin starting to evaporate into a thick cloying green smoke. He didn’t pity the Fallen, monsters one and all, but he acknowledged that they were going to be miserable for a good long time before they were able to raise a weapon against another person. There was satisfaction to that, and with his body wafting that green smoke he turned to the rest of the powered combatants. His power may have come with healing, but that was just a perk. Basilisk's true power needed him to bleed and the bullets had given him ample opportunity to do so.

	The dinosaur was gone, the woman that it had been sheltering was on her knees and burning. He heard the blast of a weapon, tinker made it seemed and firing a projectile that seemed like a massive ball of slime. The tentacled bastard seemed intent on keeping away from it and that seemed like something Basilisk could take advantage of, with the sound of tearing metal he ripped a bumper free of one of the Fallen’s vehicles and readied a throw while the focus was off of himself. He had to wait until there wasn’t a chance the bumper would slam into the two ladies, but the moment he had his shot he hurled it lengthwise, sending it spinning through the air, spinning like a massive blunt propeller towards Transcendent. Basilisk’s entire upper body strength put into the throw.


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	Calvin rejoiced as the older hero beside her launched his own attack towards the anchor cluster of wires, the sounds of high tension wires snapping was a good thing...right? Well, not really. A groan of metal and the shift of the shadow above them of the precariously hung helicopter was all the warning that they had before the massive vehicle snapped free of its last few reaching restraints and plummeted down towards the street. 

	“Heads up!” She yelled as she took off as fast as she could towards a safer part of the street. There wasn't a chance of being crushed, they hadn’t been been directly underneath the helicopter when it had fallen but the risk of getting clipped by something hanging off the chopper or a stray wire stuck into her mind and Calvin went sprinting for the side of the building as fast as she could. She could hear the sound of voices over her radio, something about Spindle and the hostages, but her mind was in a small panic. Why hadn’t she considered that perhaps the biggest mass of wires had been what was holding up the biggest suspended object!? The wires suspending the other hostages were probably a part of that mass as well and she had put them all at risk just trying to remove the possibility of a threat. What if she had gotten someone killed!? All these thoughts were running through her head as she reached the shadow of the alleyway and ducked into it, she could taste the grit of the kicked up debris on her teeth and tongue and took a moment to spit and try and collect her thoughts. 

	She had risked her own life with that choice, risked her team and the hostages, destroyed a helicopter that was probably worth more than she would make working for the Jr. Guard for a decade, all as her literal first move in the public eye. Then she ran, and that thought hit her hard. Here she was, having stopped running a few dozen yards from where everyone else had, hiding in an alleyway. She should get back out there, she should help! But what if she just made things worse again, what if she got someone hurt? Her lense covered eyes turned to her palms and she took a gamble, between them a second simple red sphere appeared in her hands and she reflexively slumped as she realized what it meant. Even her own power was calling her weak, something no more useful than a light breeze.