I had nothing besides the vantage point that let me see the tinkers return to the door-shaped aperture they’d constructed, with its generators, engines, and other tech built up around the base and the sides. There were shouts from the woman, as she looked over her shoulder.

Switches were thrown. Electricity crackled, and a shimmer appeared in the doorway, before promptly bleeding out to the surrounding area, through and into one of the generator-like machines at the base, causing it to detonate.

The electric portal energy bled out like watercolor, crackling loudly enough that I couldn’t hear the people on the ground.

I pushed out with my aura. Nothing.

I couldn’t even summon the Wretch without it being canceled as my bindings continued to entrap me. More of me was covered than not—only my head and neck were left clear.

There was a pause. Then the woman ran, nearly slipping on wet ice that covered the backyard of the house, and she leaped for the center of the blurry mass, disappearing within.

A moment later, the energy of the electric portal ignited violently. The fire traveled to the sub-systems and engines, and they began to explode. The thralls that had been working on it scrambled to get away. A few didn’t manage to, and were close as visible shockwaves rippled out, through and past them.

Discarded like they were nothing.

In the other direction, Byron was focusing on the guys with the teal web-beams. His motes began to form. Men and women backed up, holding their guns, with the almost flexible beams almost all together, stretching out toward me, forming a single line that drew me in. Only four were positioned with their guns resting on the ground, pointed skyward.

And behind? There were still people from the earlier confrontation, though Caryatid, Finale, and Withdrawal were facing them down.

Fifteen or so left able-bodied in the yard with the now-destroyed and burning portal, ten or twelve as part of the group the Malfunctions were dealing with, Finale and Withdrawal crouched behind a slow moving Caryatid, and then the team of six with the anti-aircraft force-webbing.

Not just anti-aircraft force webbing. One of the guys on that team was reaching for another weapon at his ankle, one hand still propping up the larger weapon.

“Careful!” I shouted. “Gun!”

Byron broke into a run, the crampons giving his feet bite on the icier patches of road. Blue motes became water, washing over that squad. A drenching of cold water, in the midst of freezing rain.

“Bam!” Finale shouted. One of the men staggered, where he’d been finding his footing, and fell.

“Finale!” I shouted. “If you’re building up to something, now’s the time!”

“I don’t want to if—” she started. Then she shrieked as a group that had been huddled behind cover burst out, opening fire. Caryatid was slow to move, but Finale was quick to put Caryatid between herself and the attackers.