I motioned for others to follow. They did.

While I guarded the group, keeping an eye out for Capricorn, Ashley blasted a segment of the second floor, bringing it down near a squad of people. Sveta dove in, to bind limbs and drag them into the dust and debris. Capricorn created a gout of water.

As we moved one step forward, a dozen squads of men with tinker rifles headed a couple of steps in the same direction, or formed a pincer in front of us, or a pincer behind us.

A hundred steps forward, and there was an army in the rooms, corridors, and ruins to our left, an army in the rooms, halls, and debris to our right.

I could see the hallway, and Capricorn used Tristan’s natural strength to get ahead of our slower runners, while I flew over and up to ensure there were no ambushes waiting, Sveta right on my heels.

I found one gunman, and hurled him out of cover, keeping hold of his gun.

Tristan ran halfway up the stairs, and began drawing out the comprehensive diagram that would solidify into walls. So long as he held this point, they’d be a lot slower at chasing the rest of us.

The last people caught up, reaching the base of the staircase. A wall flashed into existence, black stone with orange-red veins.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to be encouraging, to tell people I loved them.

Nobody had words.

We knew what option this was. That we were saving heroes and gathering forces here. We weren’t gunning straight for Teacher, so it wasn’t A. We weren’t abandoning this point either, and this point was presumably where stairs led up into Teacher’s area. It was C. Driving Teacher to run, plan abandoned. Some heroes died. Few civilians would die.

It was the option I’d chosen. I’d been ready to vote for it, A if it wasn’t feasible. Never B. Not that many lives. Not that there were any guarantees with the blind spots.

Two of us die, one suffering for ‘quite some time’.

I wish I’d thought to ask if that meant one of the two suffered or not.

The building shook as someone used a power on the wall Tristan had erected. Without a goodbye, without a commentary, without final strategy, our team split up, running footsteps sounding hollow in wide hallways and corridors.

Dying 15.x

He felt important. Critical.

Five. The commander of squad Yellow-Black had five good soldiers. Four of them had the wasp tattoo on their necks, signifying their affiliation to the squad, the fifth had been planning to get it in two days. For many of the people in Teacher’s employ, all of this was temporary. But for the Wasp Commander and his squad, they liked working together like this. They intended to do it for as long as they were able.