Ryan had learned a few key things about his power since waking up that went beyond the simple description his status screen gave.

The first was that his power had a bit of a delay between when it activated and when the actual effect took place. Never more than a few seconds, but it wasn’t instant by any means. This meant any use of his power had to still be the right move afterwards - because he couldn’t just change his mind on it. Or at least, if he did, it would take time he probably didn’t have to reverse.

Next up was the ‘fun’ discovery that his power caused him great pain whenever he tried to move a lot of energy or change something about himself. Eating to gain points didn’t, thank the merciful gods, but every other method of acquiring points had - so far - been easily amongst his top ten most painful moments.

Ryan couldn’t even be mad, because it made sense if you thought about it. The power equivalent of electricity coursing through the body couldn’t exactly feel good. Not to mention fundamentally altering his own biology to do whatever it was that had let him effectively consume those corpses. He’d never studied medicine to any appreciable degree, but Ryan was pretty sure changing human skin into diamond involved a level of chemical reactions that would make a mad scientist blush.

Getting back on track - the best part of Ryan’s superpower was that when the description said he could ‘edit anything or anyone’... it wasn’t hyperbole. He seemed to be only limited by what he could touch and what he could think up.

Which meant it was time to get creative.

Problem 1: He was bound. What had felt like wire was threaded through his gunshot wounds, attached to zip ties that were attached to… something else. Oh, and the ‘blindfold’ that he was pretty sure was an old dress.

Problem 2: His captors were clearly watching him and had some ability to cloud his mind and/or speak into it. Their powers must be sight-based, Ryan reasoned. Probably some sort of distance limit, too. Otherwise his group would’ve fallen to the ground as soon as they exited the van.

Problem 3: Smith, Michael, Sherry, and Kurt were… captured with him at best… dead at worst. Which meant he couldn’t just run - he would have to find them if they were here. He couldn't live with himself if they got left behind. Not after what they'd already done for him.

Ryan pushed the possible death of his friends from his mind and set about solving the first problem.

The bindings began to dissolve and his wounds began to close immediately. The cost hadn’t been too bad, just 38 points. Whatever was numbing the pain kept him from feeling it - a fact Ryan was rather grateful for as he sat up and scanned his surroundings.

The room appeared to be someone’s basement. Cardboard boxes with holiday decorations peeking out were pushed to one side of the room underneath a grey metal cover screwed into the wall. He was sitting on an old, marked up dinner table underneath a basement window that told him it was dark outside. A staircase at the end of the room led up to what he assumed was the rest of the house and a camera was mounted on the end of its handrail, pointed directly at him.

Ryan looked right into that camera, giving his captors the best ‘suck-it’ smirk he could manage.

Then he transformed the entire table he was sitting on into smoke - a surprisingly cheap 4 points - and rolled back into the rapidly expanding cloud. The instant he fell in the smoke Ryan felt an odd pressure on his mind that he hadn’t noticed until this point vanish. As did the numbness in his limbs, which was a relief. He’d considered doing the table first since healing himself gave his captors a chance to respond, but… well… that would’ve hurt.

The speed limit on his racing mind lifted too, which was a relief. He wasn’t sure if both powers had been sight-based and this whole attempt would’ve ended rather quickly if that mouthy bitch could just vegetable him at any point.

Problem one down, problem two pushed back until they came for him. Which, judging from the sound of a chair being thrown back that came through the camera and then a door slam that came from both the device and somewhere upstairs, would probably be only a moment or two. Plenty of time. Hopefully.

Ryan couldn’t see a thing, which was both good and bad. The smoke from the flash-burned table was a thick white cloud that now obscured the entire room. It was never a good idea to breathe smoke, even if you made it, so Ryan held his breath and scrambled towards the stairwell. Then he did the smart thing to do when you’re in a room filled with harmful gas.

Would you like to extend this wall to the adjacent one? Cost: 10 points. Yes, or no?

Once that was done Ryan got down as low as he could, took a deep breath, and fumbled his way back to the basement window. It was one of those single pane ground-level window types that pushed outward to let air in. His hands fumbled for the latch and turned it, but the window didn’t open. He felt around some more and realized they had screwed it into the frame to prevent it from opening.

Then Ryan realized he was being dumb and tapped the glass with a finger. Absorbing it would be inviting literal glass shards into his body, but breaking it only cost a single point and didn’t require him to bloody his fist. The sound of glass splintering and then shattering a second later reminded him of several heist movies he had seen as a young man with his father.

His lungs were on fire. Unwilling to suck in a belly of smoke, Ryan dropped to the ground and took in some gasping, painful breaths. Heavy thuds and muffled shouting came from the other end of the wall he’d created just a moment before. Ryan could make out a male voice amidst what he was pretty sure were the other two women who’d threatened him before.

Once he’d gotten a few good breaths in, Ryan stood up and was about to start wiggling his way out when a thought struck him.

Why was he trying to escape? Where would he even go? Ryan had no idea where he was right now. This wasn’t some fairytale book where as soon as he got out everything would be fine - once his captors realized he wasn’t down here, they’d come after him. He didn’t stand a chance against these people at a distance. That had been made abundantly clear when they’d captured him.

No, Ryan needed a new plan. And quick, because with all this smoke it was a wonder the fire alarm hadn’t gone off ye---

The blaring of a siren Ryaan recognized from being woken up in the dead of night once thanks to his ‘brilliant’ cousin’s botched attempt at some midnight brownies. There weren’t any alarms down here, thankfully. But apparently the smoke was being ventilated upstairs. Ryan did get some vindictive relief out of knowing that whatever electronics they had upstairs were useless now.

Speaking of electronics…

Ryan crawled in the direction of the boxes he’d seen earlier. Reaching them relatively quickly, he took a big breath then stood up and began feeling around the wall. It took three trips and a stumble into what he was pretty sure was an entire box of wreaths before he found what he was looking for. One disintegrated grey cover later, Ryan’s fumbling hand reported two columns of horizontal switches. Despite the situation, he grinned.

“See how you like the dark, fuc--” Ryan’s bravado was interrupted by a coughing fit that brought him to the ground. It took several hacking coughs before he could stand again. Despite the burning in his chest, Ryan began hurriedly all of the switches to the other position - cutting power to the rest of the house, room by room.

Then he slumped down until his cheek rested on the basement floor and waited for the world to stop spinning so much. Briefly, Ryan wondered if it might not have been easier to just go along with what his captors had wanted. A silly thought, that, and one he quickly dismissed.

“Open up you dumbass or we’ll open fire!” yelled an angry male voice from beyond the stairwell wall.

Ryan snorted, then choked on it. What were they going to do, shoot their way through drywall?

Bullets tore into the room and slammed into the wall at the far side. Ryan blinked. Alright. That was… sure. They’d gone through all the trouble of taking him alive and now they were just firing blind?

Ryan heard a smack, followed by the sound of something hitting the wall’s support beam.

“Put that away you idiot! If you kill him then we don’t get paid, moron!” came a harsh rebuke from the woman who had threatened Ryan earlier. “Take one more shot and I’ll leave you a gibbering wreck for a week!”

They mumbled an apology and then light shone through the newly-made holes in the stairwell wall. Ryan could hear shuffling as whoever was on the other end presumably tried to look through. The smoke was clearing up some, but it was still dense enough to keep him hidden.

“Boy!” she shouted into the room. A moment later she called out. “Answer me!” Then Ryan heard someone else come down the stairs. Her voice was clearly identifiable as the ‘angel’ from before.

“Quit messing with the door you idiots! There’s smoke coming from out front. He may have gone out the window. Jack, didn’t you say you heard glass break?”

“Yeah, I--” started the man.

“Then why the hell are you down here?! Get after him, both of you!” The ‘angel’ roared. Her playful, over-the-top manner gone, replaced by a voice that cracked out like a whip at the other two.

“Go, go! And one of you get the car! McCarthy is already on his way, I'm not missing out on that money!”

Hurried shoving and footsteps echoed back up the stairwell and off into the house. Ryan knew he wasn’t likely to get another chance like this, so he didn’t waste any time.

Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, Ryan retraced his path back to the stairwell and felt around. There were no lights, but he could feel the still-warm holes from Jack’s shots.

What sounded like the front door slammed open above him. The telltale slow, whining close of a second screen door giving it away. Then Ryan could hear footsteps approaching the basement window.

"Time to go." Ryan thought. He took a breath to psyche himself up. Then he turned a section of the drywall large enough to climb through into ash and headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. The closed door he'd seen previously had been left open. Ryan carefully peered through it before actually entering.

A camping lantern was set up on a table in the middle of what appeared to be the living room. Haruko - the woman whose spine he had reduced to ash earlier - was laid out on a couch at the rear wall. An IV line was hooked into her arm and connected to a half-filled bag of clear liquid. Open bags of chips and half-eaten boxes of pizza covered a single prop table next to some scattered plastic chairs. A laptop that had probably been used to communicate with him had been tossed to the floor.

Oh, and the entire room was soaking wet. It looked like it had rained indoors. The sprinkler system evidently considered the fire handled and had shut itself off. Water ran in various directions across the uneven floor. The smoke alarm siren had also stopped, making the room eerily quiet.

Ryan didn't waste any time. Not seeing anyone around, he strode over to Haruko and put his hand on her forehead. The former powerhouse's eyes snapped open and stared up at him. Gone was the arrogance she'd had back at the van. Now, her eyes only held fear.

Unfortunately for her, Ryan's pity well was bone dry at the moment. A few seconds later, Haruko's heart was reduced to ash.

The small, former assassin started up at him the entire time it took her to die. It only took about ten seconds for the emotion in her eyes to fade, but it felt much longer. When it was over, her eyes didn't close, they just… stared at him.

Something inside Ryan's mind rose up and cried out at what he had just done. A part of him was horrified at how casually he had just taken another life… not to mention what he was about to do next. Ryan quickly shoved it back down.

Survive first, process the whole 'murder-justification' question later. Ryan admonished himself.

Haruko Takahashi was gone. What was left was no use to anybody. Except Ryan, that is. For Ryan, she was now a convenient and quick source of points.

Since this would probably hurt, Ryan grabbed onto the back of the couch with his other hand to brace himself before activating his power.

Would you like to channel the energy remaining in this corpse to upgrade your attributes? Energy remaining: 1252.

Over twelve hundred points? Ryan thought incredulously. That was almost four times what his first corpse had given him! If he spent it solely on attributes, Ryan would be a long way towards his pre-accident self. Maybe even past it! But…

Ryan glanced down at his chest where the small patch of diamond-tough skin had saved his life earlier. The first defensive modification he'd made had been clutch, even if he would eventually need to adjust it so bullets didn't hurt so damn much. And while he might be able to sith this many points, the smarter move would be to finally start increasing the surface area.

Would you like to channel the energy remaining in this corpse to upgrade a further 5% of your skin’s hardness to that of diamond? Cost: 1200 points. 52 remaining will be added to current total. Yes, or no?

Ryan quickly chose 'yes' and closed his eyes. After sharing in her final moments, he had no desire to watch the poor woman's skin, bone, and organs melt into him. It wasn't squeamishness on his part. Not at all. He just… didn't feel like adding more nightmare fuel to an already rough day. Especially if he didn't have to.

Has it really only been a day? Ryan wondered right before the now familiar yet-still-pretty-strange sensation of another person's liquid biomatter flowing into him crawled up his arm. Unlike the corpses from before, the fluid was warm this time. That… somehow made it worse.

The pain was nowhere near when he'd absorbed the chrysalis. Thankfully. Ryan was able to just grip the couch and grit his teeth through it without so much as a whimper.

An even larger section of his chest began to feel heavy as his power converted skin into a diamond-like equivalent in mere seconds. By the time it was over his chest now felt like Ryan was carrying a heavy backpack in reverse.

"Wh- what the hell did you just do to her?" Asked a shocked male voice from behind him.

Turning his head, Ryan saw Jack standing in the doorway. Jack appeared to almost be frozen in place, bent down to grab a pair of keys from the table. Ryan hadn't seen them before, nor had he seen or heard the man come in. The last of Haruko's essence still flowing up into his arm.

Silence filled the room. It stretched out for a long moment as Jack stood there, looking back and forth between Ryan and the sunken spot on the couch where Haruko had been just a moment before. No more than 5 feet away from each other, neither moved. Horror and revulsion were written plainly on Jack's face.

The tall man stared at Ryan like he'd just stumbled in on a monster mid-snack.

Before Ryan could think to say or do anything, Jack moved. Faster than Ryan could respond, Jack stepped past the table and slammed his right fist into Ryan's jaw. A strained cry of rage bubbled up out of the man as he did.

"Hraaaghh! No! I'd just. Gotten. Her. Back!!" Jack bellowed as he leapt over the couch and began raining blows down on Ryan, punctuating each word with a strike.

The blows came so fast that Ryan didn't even have the time to pull up his power. He couldn't turn the man into a vegetable without prolonged contact. And other than bringing his arms up to protect his head from another hit, it didn't feel like there was much Ryan could do.

Then Jack got through Ryan's arms and slammed a right fist hard into his chest. A distinctive series of cracking sounds dulled by flesh followed.

"Fffffuuu-oww!!" Jack reeled back in pain and cradled his now-broken fingers.

Dazed, pummeled into the ground, ears ringing, and with the copper taste of blood in his mouth, Ryan grinned weakly. He didn't have to fight this man to win. He just had to...

"What's the matter?" Ryan spat out as mockingly as he could. "Done already?"

The effect might've been somewhat lessened by the blood that sprayed from his mouth or how shakingly Ryan struggled to his feet. But it worked. Jack's attention went from his ruined hand back up to Ryan.

Just a little bit more…

"She mean that little to y--" Ryan's cheap shot was interrupted by Jack's left hook to his face.

Something popped in Ryan's jaw, but he managed to remain standing. The next blow was just as quick as the one before it, dropping Ryan back into the couch. But the third…

The third landed right as Ryan's diamond flesh finally reached his face. A sickening crack sounded this time as Jack's wrist bent backwards from the blow. It was followed by an interrupted cry of pain as Ryan seized the moment and tackled Jack to the ground.

A knee started slamming into his midsection as soon as they hit the ground, but Ryan didn't move his skin this time. Instead, he turned the man's spinal column into ash.

A few seconds later, the struggling stopped. A few more and nothing remained of his former captor save some dirty clothes on the wet floor.

Ryan retrieved the man's keys from the table and stumbled his way towards what he hoped was the garage. Instead he found a rather messy kitchen with an open window. Through it, he could hear his former captors some distance away yelling down the street for him to "come out" and "stop hiding". Yup. Time to go.

A box of swiped pop tarts later and he found the garage. A dark blue truck much cleaner than any room he'd seen inside beeped at the key press, so he clambered in. His heavily bruised midsection and likely dislocated jaw voiced their displeasure at the extended motion.

There'd been no sign of his friends in the other rooms, much to his dismay. Which meant they'd either gotten away during or after the attack... or been killed. Ryan decided to hope for the former. After all, one was unkillable, another could clone himself, and then whatever Kurt was… Some type of shifter, maybe? Sherry had seemed pretty capable too.

They're probably fine. Ryan assured himself as he made a mental note of the address he was leaving for later. He'd seen it on several letters left around the house. 245 Center Street. Easy enough.

And if I can't find them, then I'll come back and see how they like answering my questions. Maybe thread some wire through their hands this time. Ryan amended darkly as the engine roared to life.

A number of intersections passed by before Ryan finished thinking up new ways to get back at the sadistic pair should their paths ever cross again. And a few more before he figured out where he was headed.