This was Breakthrough. Two female members, one male.

“That’s Swansong! Distance is paramount! Scatter!”

Swansong blasted out the walls and floor below them, but the concrete was reinforced here, the Wasp Commander knew. They were safe, so long as they retreated.

Tricks shot again. The Commander looked and saw a trio of tendrils severed by the singular bullet, writhing on the floor.

The floor opened up as Swansong’s power tore into it. Members of the group fired into the rippling void, and the power ate the bullets. Tricks kept his rifle trained on the rippling power that kept on firing, without shooting.

“There’s a third combatant, we need details on him, Cathound. Is he flanking?”

The Wasp Commander would have flanked.

“No, he’s at the bottom of the stairs, he—”

Tricks had drawn a pistol from his belt, and shot behind him with scarcely a glance backward, interrupting Cathound. Aiming at Tress again, keeping her at bay.

But the shot was followed by a response. A single shot that ricocheted killed Cathound and injured Tricks. Tricks fell into the hole Swansong was making, and the power she was using to make the hole.

Blood sprayed.

The boy ascended the stairs, adjusting his glasses.

A Harbinger. The Wasp Commander and the others turned guns on him, and bands of flesh reached out to grab those guns. He felt a stab of fear. Harbingers were not to be fucked with, given the records.

The Wasp Commander reduced his grip down to one hand and reached down to detach the magazine from the rifle as he abandoned it to the tendrils. No use giving her something to shoot him with. He fired the one round that was already loaded, then let go, kicking the weapon away and drawing his pistol, wheeling around.

It didn’t matter. The boy fired his own pistol, placing a bullet directly down the barrel of the Wasp Commander’s weapon. His gun detonated from the internal pressures and stresses.

Swansong used her power to leap up, taking advantage of the chaos. The Wasp Commander gave an instruction to Dripfeed, who closed into melee with the parahuman.

She used her power, which threw off his aim, but he kicked her in the ribs, and it seemed to do a number on her, dropping her to one knee. She used her power again, aiming at the floor beneath his raised foot, and propelled herself backward, into the hole she’d come up from. Dripfeed checked for permission. The Wasp Commander gave it. Dripfeed chased.

The boy was the real concern. The remaining three guns turned his way. Without the pressure on Tress, however, the tendrils reached across to seize them by wrists and hands. Shutter gripped one of the bands of flesh in one hand and shredded his palm and fingers.

While they were held, the boy walked up, striking each one of them once.

The Wasp Commander last of all.