Tristan added his contribution—another pillar of building material, slamming right into the lowest point of the flesh we were shooting. It erupted a second time, sending chunks flying while extending its length, and then toppled. As it fell, it tore.

And even with all of that, the flesh expanded faster than we destroyed it.

Until the toppling construction knocked a few of the pins loose.

Others took the cue, and began knocking out the needles that were feeding into the tumorous lump. A few strikers were right under it, running through a waterfall of gore that flowed from our ongoing attacks, to take the pillars out at their base.

The creation stopped growing and started dying.

I turned my laser toward Ophion. Again, I shot that chewed-gum tumor of a head and chest, the laser cauterizing as it cut.

He’s Fortuna’s, I thought. He’s connected to her, he might as well be an extension of her like my arm is an extension of me.

Except not quite.

They had their individual personalities. More than a group, less than a single entity.

It was easier to imagine them as a group and as a single entity, then to take the worst-case scenario of the two, or combine the two worst-case scenarios. If he really was an independent entity working to help her… he had all of the strategy and wit of the canny Mr. Bough, who had survived for over a decade as part of Orchard, with good heroes gunning for him.

If he was indistinguishable from Titan Fortuna, an extension of her, then he was taking every action he was taking right this minute for very specific, very dangerous reasons.

He was protecting himself with more needles as he retreated, and the strikers who were clearing the way were having trouble keeping up.

I stopped shooting. I had half of a battery left.

How much of this is Titan Fortuna’s doing?

Crystal kept shooting, but her battery was endless, for all intents and purposes. Aunt Sarah was closer to the scene, helping people with forcefields that went up faster, bigger, and lasted longer than anything Crystal put up.

“Thanks, cousin,” I said.

“Anytime.”

“You don’t have to babysit me, but—”

“I kinda do,” she interrupted me. Then, a second later, added, “For me, not for you.”

“It’s appreciated, in any event. Feeling shaky.”

“My laser’s different. It’s going to fuck up all my arts and crafts, and making food with my power.”

I lifted up the gun, then tapped it against Crystal’s forcefield, hard. It punched through, and I started descending.

While descending, drifting in Tristan’s direction, I said, “Lookout was saying it’s all falling within the TTSE range.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

I winced, but I didn’t say anything.

Too close.