[i]"Looked like you could use a hand!"[/i]

Henry didn't immediately reply, but managed to cough out a snarl in recognition to his now brother in arms. Between the two of them, Titus definitely had the higher towing power, but Titus weighed far less than both himself and their assailant. Henry could handle one arm on his own, and with his weight and Titus' strength they might have a chance at stalemating the golem. Henry shifted, ducking his shoulder down and into the golem's armpit, allowing the golem to sink towards the ground under their combined weight and Titus' strength. He did his best to ignore the road rash against his scales as they were ground away by the golem's concrete and earthen skin, and with his immense size and the golem's lowered position, pivoted the creature's arm upwards. Against a human, struggling against such a position could lead to a dislocated shoulder. A golem however had no such biological hangups and likely lacked the necessary attributes to feel pain- but it did position the creature's arm like a lever of which Henry could drive. 


And then it all went tits up. He managed to shriek in alarm, but with his body quite literally positioned against the golem he was the first to be enveloped. Henry struggled, as anyone in his position would. Outside he heard shouting, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. He wasn't in much of a position to perceive what exactly was happening, but his concrete prison very quickly crumbled around him. He was unceremoniously dropped, and upon hitting the ground felt the unmistakable and likely audible crunch of all his weight coming down on the metacarpal on the side of his foot. The pain didn't hit him at first- but he fell in a heap on the ground, thankfully not on top of Titus, but certainly did hit him as soon as he moved his leg.

Henry's legs were, for lack of better terminology, built a little bit differently than the regular humans. Well, they weren't, but they did function differently. When his powers manifested one of the (excruciating) changes was the lengthening and repositioning of his feet. When the process was completed and he had been evaluated and xrayed and whatever else'd by the doctors, the scans had revealed that he now walked on his toes for lack of better terminology. At least, that's how the doctor put it. Since then he had fractured bones in his feet before in many odd ways, and he knew the feeling. They healed quick, but because his entire mass was on two points it always hurt like hell for a few days afterwards. He'd be paying for getting physical with the golem in one way or another.

[i]"THIS IS THE ASA. WE ARE SEARCHING THE AREA FOR SIGNS OF HOSTILITY AND WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN THE COAST IS CLEAR. IF YOU ARE IN HIDING, REMAIN THERE UNTIL WE HAVE CLEARED THE AREA. IF YOU ARE EXPOSED OR IN NEED OF MEDICAL ATTENTION, COME TO OUR PERIMETER AND WE WILL PROVIDE ASSISTANCE. AND SOMEBODY PLEASE TURN OFF THAT RACKET I'M GETTING A HEADACHE."[/i]

Henry coughed, spitting dust but otherwise okay. He had managed to close his eyes and mouth before getting pulled in. [b]"I did need a hand."[/b], he managed to cough out. [b]"Thank you for the help. I was in over my head."[/b] A small part of Henry was amused at his own joke- because he was so tall that he was never in over his- A lightning bolt of pain shot up his leg as he shifted his foot and his mind was swiftly set back on track. [b]"Are you okay, Titus?"[/b]

Henry pulled himself into a sitting position but otherwise remained where he was at. Unlike the vast majority of his generation in Leesburg, his relationship with the ASA was... more sensitive to put it lightly. There had been quite a few conversations with his mother and father and sisters on what exactly should happen if something were to go wrong. After visiting his physician and getting their insight compared to other CoL's like himself, a decision was made. His superpower can be temporarily reversed, just like anyone else's. However due to the size and severity of his mutation, it would be a long and extremely painful process that could permanently disfigure or damage his body and brain. As a result, the ASA received a signed and written agreement with his family that Henry himself also consented to when he turned 18 that, in the event that something happens, power nullification is not to be attempted. Lethal force is more humane.

A shot had already been fired, and given the ASA's presence here it was already a severe enough situation that itchy trigger fingers were likely present. Henry had received several long talks with his family and knew that any movement in a critical time like this was undue risk. Not that it took all that much convincing- with a fractured foot he wasn't feeling like going anywhere fast right now anyways, but he'd wait until they came to him. Henry turned to survey the damage. His shirt was shredded where his body was against the golem and caked in concrete dust- ruined. Several of his scales were either sanded down or completely gone- revealing the slightly pink and bleeding flesh underneath. He snorted, knowing he'd be right as rain in a couple days but bemused in that he couldn't remember the last time something had actually gotten through his scales. His work was also fucked, which meant his evenings and weekends were going to be very open for the foreseeable future. That wasn't the best thing. But it meant he could go to the party no questions asked this weekend. Little victories.

[hr]
All things considered, Dexter had gotten off light compared to seemingly everyone else. He had positioned himself clear of where the golem had been after setting off the cars and had more than enough time to ensure his safety when the ASA had arrived. He had swatted some debris away from his face as the cars came through. He was hungry as hell now, and had a bit of a runners high, but all things considered it was nothing that an extra dinner and a night's rest wouldn't fix.

He heard a loud [i]'Fuck!'[/i] not too far away from him, and despite direction to either remain where he is or to make it to the perimeter he elected to investigate. Dexter dragged himself to his feet with a huff and soldiered after the voice, turning off some of the car radios as he tailed it. He was fast, but he was walking slow. There was too much potential debris scattered on the road now and he wasn't looking to take a tumble or dig a nail out of his feet. He still needed to get a new tinnitus shot. The owner of the voice was none other than Evelyn, who appeared to have made it to Agent Hopkins safely. [i]"Get me to an ambulance before anyone sees me or I swear to Christ I'll say one of those bullets grazed me."[/i]

Dexter's tired mind, normally sharp as a tack, didn't completely process the words or the implications of reacting to them (or making his presence known at all) when his eyes darted down to Evelyn's side. She had a nasty gash that she was trying her best to conceal- but her hand couldn't completely stop the slow oozing of dark red blood down her clothing. "Oh shit, you're bleeding." He said, without fully realizing that he said it. Just like that though, it was real. The world around him seemed to fade slightly as he fixated on Evelyn's wound. He heard the shouting and the wail of the sirens but it was distant now. His eyes darted away from Evelyn to the damage and the destroyed cars and fell upon a Ford Explorer from 2005. The car was mostly fine but Dexter wasn't. His mind was alight and for one searing moment Dexter was in sixth grade and his mother received a call. She didn't tell him yet but he heard it in her responses- close enough to hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

His father was dead, killed in a car crash. He remembered the vacuum pop of the air, the shattering of the windows closest to the door as he ran faster than he had ever run in his life. He knew his father's route by heart- he had been driven home that almost exact same route hundreds of times in his life. He ran until he saw the shattered wreckage of what remained of the two vehicles. Their occupants- his father, had been wheeled away but the crimson stain in the road had yet to be washed away. He remembered someone grabbing him and trying to force him away from the scene- the crime scene. But the damage had been done. Dexter perceived the world a hundred times faster than the normal person. Every inch of that stretch of road had been burnt into his memory.

Then he was back, surrounded by those same sirens, the smell and sight of blood, trashed vehicles... All of that thought and trauma re-experienced faster than a normal person could even [i]think[/i]. Dexter paled quickly and took a step back. "Evelyn are you okay? You don't look so good." He said, his voice distant and hollower than usual. His stomach turned but he couldnt take his eyes off the wound. "I dont feel so good." Dexter managed to cough out. His vision tunneled- and then the world went dark.

Dexter fainted.