Our cue to go. I covered the rear flank as the others charged for the door. The headless spider with the crossbow strapped to its body was Foil’s mount. Parian slumped between Foil and the crossbow, leaning hard into Foil. She was, at least, managing the spider, despite her condition.

“Cut through buildings!” I told them. “Lord of Loss never seems to go indoors at any point!”

I heard crumbling and looked back. Through the narrow aperture of the front door, I could see Lord raising an oversized, clawed extremity, shedding debris. He hadn’t managed to un-impale himself or pull the needles from the stones, but he had managed to pull up the pavement.

Someone ducked underneath the hand, skidding on the ground. A cape, dressed in an all-covering orange bodysuit, who ran fast enough that they clipped the edge of the doorframe in their crazed run.

I raised my forcefield as I saw them fix their attention on me. I could fly backward without worrying too much about bumping into anything, so I kept the majority of my focus on them.

I saw them glance to one side. They aimed to go around me.

Half right. They leaped, power activating, to throw themselves at the wall. They collided in a shower of orange and amber light and sparks, and rebounded, no longer human. A swirling mass of energy.

The impact when he hit the Wretch was violent, the impact carrying through the air to scatter papers, money we hadn’t grabbed, and the washed and dried silverware that had been laid at the edge of the kitchen’s counter.

He recovered, momentum lost, clearly startled that what he’d planned hadn’t worked.

Reminded me of Mom, just… bigger and spikier. Aggressive instead of defensive.

My focus was on him, so I didn’t get to see what was happening at the exit here. Precipice was stepping in, at the least.

I stared down my opponent. They were dressed like a hero from one of the old Japanese superteams, covered head to toe, hard helmet with full face coverage, a bodysuit with stretchy material with light decoration. They did have some padding, though. Elbow and knee pads—

“Need help, Antares?” Candy interrupted my observations.

“Save your juice,” I said.

Elbow and knee pads, and some chest protection that made it ambiguous if they were flat or if they had pronounced pecs. Whatever the case, armor could indicate vulnerability, either to bait, as was my case, or by accident. Theirs was too light, too built for things other than deflecting bullets or stopping knives.

They acted again. Again, a sharp, high-speed lunge, not aimed at me or at the others, but at a wall. Again, the impact, sparks and light. Post-impact, as they rebounded off, they’d become a large, whirling death ball formed of hard energy.