He decided he’d have fun, since he was doing the legwork here. He stood straighter, pointed, and ordered, “Fire.”

A zombie pulled on a lever. The laser cannon glowed, then fired its beam, two feet thick, into the wall. Tile shattered, the softer material beneath disintegrated, and metal melted. The laser was moved gradually, to tear through more wall.

Secondhand flicked a switch on the battery pack, then adjusted his goggles. Numerical readings mixed in with just-for-fun diabolic symbols and magical diagrams overlapped what he was seeing. He checked he had the camera software loaded, then switched modes to a thermal view, with patterns of air resistance marked out with lines and numbers in the air.

“Running too hot, we’re shutting it off!”

“That’s fine!” Last Minute called. He turned to Secondhand. “Isn’t it?”

The laser shut off. Secondhand used his power.

The world stopped, and the air became heavy, oppressive, like being at the bottom of the swimming pool.

Making sure his hat was firmly on, slipping his hands into his pockets, Secondhand walked down the hall, amid the zombies. It was like walking into mud, and running was worse than walking. He walked up to the girl with the tattoos hidden in her hair, and craned his head around, to try to look down her the front of her tunic.

Too flat. He couldn’t get a good angle. Bringing his head too close, he could feel the body heat radiating off of her as an unpleasant thing. Even with the suit protecting him against the worst of it, it felt like a sunburn that lasted only as long as he was close. He pulled away.

“If I asked Teacher for you, would he give you to me?” he asked, his face close to hers, the words muffled as though he had his face in the corner, speaking into a wall. “Would you enjoy the kind of fun we have at Thomais Manor? Would it be better if we didn’t give you your brain back?”

He studied every inch of her, trying to commit details to memory.

Growing bored, he turned away.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

He walked into the pea soup, and from that pea soup, he walked into the storm that was the place the laser blast had penetrated. The wall was hot and the floor was hotter where the melted metal had dripped down, and that heat both radiated and stirred the air.

One hand on his hat, one hand on his pocket, he endured the storm. His suit absorbed ninety-five percent of it. His boots absorbed ninety percent of the heat beneath his feet. Technically the suit made him resistant to all of it, but some sensations got through, a feedback from his power and feedback from the suit, so he wouldn’t be oblivious or entirely unable to sense the world around him.