Balk played the part of the ace. Our job was to support him. I flew a distance away, slightly out of formation, close enough to shield him in the hairier patches, not so close the Wretch might hit him. On the other side, the woman with forcefields shielded his other side. Above all three of us, a woman lobbed glowing projectiles. The projectiles seemed inaccurate. If they weren’t, she might have been the ace herself.

“Dipping out!” I called.

I saw Balk’s hand move in assent. A stretched-out forcefield replaced my position in the flight, as the group slowed.

A dive, striking where I was needed, hitting the side of a pillar with computer towers to send monitors and heavy computers cascading down on the people hunkered below, with a few sparks marking live wires, even. Then a rise again, to return to formation.

Balk hurled his ball with enhanced strength, and it demolished cover. The ensuing fire from allied parahumans forced the Teacher thralls into retreat. A mutant hulk filled that gap, and Balk flew down to meet it. We flew down in unison, to support him and protect him from flanks.

He was a more methodical fighter than I was. Each punch and kick was intended to count. He didn’t utilize in-flight rotations to boost his power, instead dropping to the ground when he wanted to sling hits, but he did tumble and fall more often, using flight to rise to his feet. The hits were punctuated by throws and the surprise returns of the metal ball.

I kicked a piece of concrete on the ground, sending chunks flying at violent speeds. They hit some people who were facing another direction, and with damage and distraction, stopped those people from laying down suppressive fire.

Our artillery-lobber hurled something their way. The lob, though inaccurate, imploded, drawing every one of those people into a jumble. One of the projectiles they’d been in the midst of firing was also drawn in. The result was messy, a small explosive round going off in the midst of five bodies.

Yeah. Balk was one of the guys who’d been at the warfront. His squad and his team were more about getting shit done than playing nice. Which might have been what we needed right now, but it wasn’t my rhythm.

“Three is clear, breaching,” I told the forcefield cape. This side is safe, I’m going in.

“Heard!”

I joined Balk in fighting the hulking mutant, going after the hindquarters with Wretch all-out, smashing lower spine. It counted for more than half of what Balk had done so far, crippling the thing’s entire back half and taking away its ability to use its praying mantis forelimbs for anything except crawling.

It roared, mouth yawning open for a bite, and Balk hurled the metal ball into the mouth. It came out the beast’s rear, stopped, then returned to Balk, splatting on impact with his hand.