Only as I passed over the house did I realize that we didn't have much of a plan. I was going to attack Future Knight and they were going to do what to the water elemental guy?

Too late to stop now.

In the streetlights' illumination, I could see Travis, Jaclyn, and Cassie standing in the street. All of them were up to their knees in white stuff that reminded me of shaving cream or possibly meringue.

Future Knight stood on the sidewalk, talking with Water.

Not good.

I didn't want to end up within arm's reach of both of them.

I dove toward Future Knight, taking the most direct route that allowed me to avoid power lines and low hanging branches, bobbing and weaving in the air to make it just a little harder if he tried to shoot me.

I hit him going more than two hundred miles per hour, grabbing him with both arms and dragging him down the sidewalk, sparks flying. Then I cut the power and we both hit the concrete, him first, tumbling over each other I don't know how many times, and finally ending up lying on our backs about ten feet apart.

We made it to our feet at almost the same time. He began to draw his oddly wide barreled pistol.

I jumped for him, catching him before the gun's barrel had left the holster.

I aimed my jump for just behind where he stood, making him stumble backward when I landed. Grabbing his right arm with both hands, I moved my right hand toward the gun and we struggled for control, somehow firing into the air.

A long line of a white substance shot out -- kind of like of Silly String only thicker and not green. I didn't see where it landed.

He punched me in the side twice. It didn't hurt much.

I managed to get a get a grip on the gun, and pulled. I had it. Then I threw it away as hard as I could, paying no attention to where it went until I heard a crashing noise.

I'd broken the picture window of a house a few doors down from my grandfather's.

Great.

During my moment of distraction, he punched me again.

Deciding I wanted to end it quickly, I punched for his face. The faceplate had been a weak point last time.

I didn't see exactly how he did it, but he grabbed my arm before it reached him, twisted it, and sent me tumbling toward the ground.

I looked up to find him pulling his sword out of its sheath. The edge of the blade glowed white. I raised my arm and did what I should have done before. I aimed for the face and blasted him with the sonics.

Unfortunately, I didn't hit the faceplate. The sword shivered during the blast, but didn't break. Still, he stopped to check it which was enough time for me to send the rockets some fuel and slide halfway across the street.

I stood up and then flew upwards even as he ran towards me, sword still in hand. On the off chance that it could actually pierce my armor, I decided that I would keep some distance -- but not so much distance that he would try the rifle on me.

I landed next to a flowerbed on a lawn about ten feet behind him even as he turned around.

This time I activated the sonics on both arms, hoping that at least one of them would hit the faceplate.

They rewarded me with the familiar spiderweb of cracks and completely opaque white spots I'd created the last time. I only needed to punch through and knock him out. Unfortunately, he still held the sword as if he believed it could actually hurt me.

I decided not to chance the possibility that he knew his stuff. Grabbing a rock from the flowerbed, I threw it at him.

I missed. It flew past him, crashing through the garage door of the same house where I'd broken the window with the pistol.

"Still afraid of me?" He asked. "The first Rocket would have taken me out by now. Don't you feel like there's something wrong?"

He started walking toward me, but not, I noted, with the same confidence he'd had earlier.

My second rock knocked him over.

As he fell, I jumped forward, my eyes on the sword and the arm that held it. I dove onto him, grabbing his arm and pushing it to the street. It felt like trying to pull the pistol out of his hand before, but with one difference. This time I knew my suit was stronger than his.

Pulling his fingers apart, I grabbed the sword, the white glow disappearing as I handled it, and tossed it a short distance. It landed point first, falling to the road.

"Are you going to kill me now? Don't do it. You'll kill an innocent man. You don't know the whole story. You've been brainwashed by the --"

I punched through the faceplate, knocking him unconscious. How many other memories had the mayor modified? How many other people would I have to hurt?