His first thought was that it was like March’s power, drawing lines that then exploded at the endpoint. There was no fuse, no sign of anything more to it.

He pointed his other hand at the boy, and fired an emotion grenade.

The explosion sent the boy sprawling, and forced Snag to put the hand with the line in it behind him, to steady himself. He felt the tactile response, the metal scraping metal. There was a line carved out of the arm, deep enough he could feel the air rushing in to graze the back of his hand, where it gripped a handle at the arm’s elbow.

A time-delayed slash?

“We’re resistant to each other’s emotion powers,” the boy said, as he climbed to his feet with a groan.

Snag stood straighter, raising one arm to point it at the boy. He used his damaged arm to spin the forearm, the loadout within switching through the weapons he’d packed into the arm.

The boy tried to sprint to one side. Snag aimed and fired a spray of needles, only to see the boy arrest his movement mid-step, then immediately reverse direction. He created more blades and threw them.

Snag used his own power to dash to one side. He could see movement in his peripheral vision. March’s group.

He switched weapons, charging up a rocket with the battery, and fired it so it would land between himself and the woman with the rabbit mask. The rocket soared high, and as he turned toward the boy, Snag chopped his hand down. The rocket followed the motion, turning in the air and spiking into the ground before detonating on impact.

Purple smoke filled the air around the impact site.

It would buy him time.

The boy had shitty versions of their powers. He hadn’t shown his hand with the tinker power, or with the emotion one.

Snag aimed, and he fired the last of the shuriken, no emotion loaded into them. Wide-area spray. They grazed the boy, even with the change of direction.

He anticipated the silver blades and avoided them with a use of his power.

He paused to catch his breath, watching his opponent, double checking that nobody was about to attack him from the flanks. There was an odd chance he’d be caught by a stray bullet, but it wasn’t worth walking away from this for that. Everyone was embroiled in the conflict.

He was clear. He could make this just about him and the boy.

“For all your big words, you’re weak,” Snag said.

“The only words I’ve spoken in the last six months have been pleas for mercy and cooperation,” the boy said. “Innocents—the innocents fighting back there, they don’t deserve that.”

Innocents.

Snag turned to look.

He switched loadouts, then aimed a hand back at the crowd.

“No!”