The paint rose up and over him, then solidified. He shattered it, lurched to his feet. The paint liquified and rose up and over his legs, and he shattered it again.

Was it more easily than he’d shattered it the first time?

Actions he repeated were supposed to be stronger.

To give Tempera a hand, I threw myself forward at Lord of Loss. Flight, forcefield up. He twisted around and raised the shield, blocking me. I still hit him hard enough to cost him footing. Paint covered him, hardened.

He broke the paint, swung his lance around, hitting me with the broad side.

Forcefield down, impact dampened but not entirely broken. I hit the ground and it hurt.

He broke through the paint yet again, found his feet, hit me again, this time while my feet were planted on the ground. My forcefield came back up just in time to be broken again.

Yeah, that hit had been harder.

Fume Hood shot him, hit him in the face. The paint crawled up to his upper body and joints, hardened there, trying to limit his movement, and he broke it again.

He laughed. Then he hit me again. I deflected the hit, swatting at his lance with one hand.

He was advancing, pressing closer to Fume Hood, and as much as I retreated, as much as I was sure Fume Hood was backing up, he had longer legs.

When he hit me yet again, pavement cracked beneath me, around my feet, the forcefield pushing the impact out and around me. I almost lost my step backing away, with the cracked ground.

Each hit stronger than the last by a significant margin.

This was the point I was supposed to throw my hands up and surrender, or get out of the way. If he decided to hit me more frequently, or if he lurched forward and kicked me with one of those feet of his after swatting me with his lance—

Crystalclear had turned around, was using his blasts on Lord of Loss now.

Loss, losses, losses, losses.

I threw myself forward, flying, seizing him by one leg, twisting, trying to knock him over.

I got him off balance, and then he hit me. Only a moment of me holding onto him kept me from getting smacked into the ground with no forcefield. I fell to the ground and scrambled out of the way of his legs.

I waited until my forcefield was back, then threw myself at him, bowling him over. I tore at strips, peeling away at him.

In the background, Kingdom Come had abandoned his control over the crowd. They woke as if from a deep sleep, and they seemed surprised by what was happening around them. They fled. Away from the brutes fighting, away from the chaos and the damaged building.

He elbowed me. It took him long enough to rise to his feet again that I was able to get in front of him again.