Ryan checked his watch as he jogged down the hallway, following the directions McCarthy had given him to the underground cells simply known as ‘the Lab’. Apparently, 'the Lab' was really just the basement parking garage that'd been sealed off and expanded when this whole thing started. As impromptu prisons went, it wasn't the worst idea. Probably the closest thing to the security of a concrete bunker within a hundred miles.

His watch timer indicated a little over 48 minutes had passed since they'd arrived. Almost an hour. They should’ve been done by now. Ryan was a little concerned he hadn't heard from anyone on his team yet. Not to mention Renee hadn't come back to check in. Or at all.

… Okay, maybe more than a little concerned.

Unable to shake his paranoia that something had gone horribly wrong, Ryan broke out into a dead sprint. The rational part of his mind noted that the previously filled hallways were now suspiciously empty. People were still here - they were just hiding behind locked doors. McCarthy must have gotten the word out to lay low somehow. I didn’t hear the intercom, though. Does he know someone with telepathy?

Ryan reasoned it was either that… Or people could just feel it. There was a tension brewing in the hospital. It filled the halls with the kind of silence that horror films strived to recreate. When the hair on the arms of everyone in the audience stood up because they knew the next scene would be gruesome. That someone was going to die.

It was only a question of who. And despite being in a hospital surrounded by the dead and dying, they're all still hoping it isn't them. Ryan realized. He'd considered trying to convince more to come with him, but trying to open a locked door right now felt like a dumb move. And if he forced his way in there was no telling how the super-powered, likely injured and definitely-feeling-cornered patients on the other side might react. Ryan didn’t need enhanced intelligence to realize their reaction probably wouldn't be polite.

So he just kept going. Past closed door after closed door. Down one empty hallway and past another. It was amazing how large the hospital could feel now that he could move around it. Back when he'd been crippled, it had always felt so… small.

Shaking that thought out of his head, Ryan took the final turn down the radiology hallway--

-- and almost ran headfirst into Lucas.

The wolfman-in-disguise looked almost as surprised as Ryan at the sudden encounter. Lucas held a rifle he hadn't had before up against his shoulder, its barrel pointed straight ahead. Directly at Ryan’s chest. The wolfman's physical reflexes acted before his mind could stop them and he squeezed the trigger, letting out a sharp three-round burst that echoed down the hall.

Horror dawned on both men's faces. Carrie reacted almost as fast as her husband, jerking both his arm and the weapon down as it went off. A series of loud booming sounds echoed down the hall as three rifle rounds found themselves new homes.

"Ryan?!" Lucas exclaimed with uncharacteristic panic in his voice, his eyes widening.

Ryan blinked. Then, slowly, his brain registered what had just happened. I've been shot. He realized. Again. Where did he even get that?!

He had prepared for this of course. Sort of. But those preparations required him to know it was coming. Ryan hadn't been able to afford converting his entire skin to absorb kinetic force. Which meant...

Slowly, and ever-so-carefully, Ryan reached down to feel his chest. The first bullet, thankfully, had gotten him center mass - where he'd left the kinetic absorption skin as he’d figured it was the most likely place to be shot anyway. The editor gently plucked the smoking round from the 'M' in 'PARAMEDIC' emblazoned on his chest and let it fall to the floor. His wooden fingers scarcely registering the metal's heat.

The second round had apparently struck at an angle and lodged itself in his diamond-hard skin. It was a bloody, shard-filled mess… but the round hadn't penetrated too deeply. Ryan was sure he could fix it on the cheap once he found the third bullet.

Problem was, patting himself down, he still couldn't find it. And the pain he did feel was centered mostly in his abdomen with the second round.

That… was alarming. Carrie pulled the rifle down. If I can't feel where the third one went… Ryan began to frantically check his lower half for entry wounds. He'd just thought to check his status when Carrie pointed between his legs at something behind him. Twisting around in pure horror, he let out a sigh of profound relief when his worst fear went mercifully unrealized.

The last round lay behind him. harmlessly embedded in the concrete underneath the rubber flooring. Thank whatever gods are still watching. Ryan thought, mentally accessing his power to begin healing the damage from the second round. Thankfully, the cost was low.

Ryan gritted his teeth as his power fixed up the wound. "Okay, first things first… don't point between a man's legs when he thinks he's been shot, Carrie. You just scared the hell out of me." Ryan forced his expression into a shaky grin, trying to inject some humor into the tense situation.

"And second… little jumpy there, Lucas?"

The wolfman’s expression relaxed, but only some. It remained serious. "Renee is gone. Carrie and I are wounded. As are most of the ones we managed to save."

That simple, tired response took all of the humor back out of the situation. Renee was ‘gone’? What did that mean? Did she run off or...

Ryan took a good look at his friends for the first time since he'd found them again, noting the multiple bloodied bandages and Carrie's obvious limp. Then his gaze turned to the small crowd of former patients filling the hallway behind them. The pit in his stomach that had grown on the way over here quickly noted that none of his father’s friends were among them. And as for the rest…

Some were clearly hurt, holding broken limbs or still-dripping wounds. Others had less obvious trauma, yet sported more purple bruising on their face than an old grape. All but one of them looked down instead of meeting his eyes. And the one who did seemed to stare right through him, haunted by something only she could see.

These people can't fight. Ryan realized. Even if he could heal them all right now, which he simply didn’t have the points for, their spirits were broken. And they're just civilians. Just people, who were trying to live their lives.

Ryan wasn't about to fool himself. His own band wasn't much better. Even with the brief practice under John back at base, and what each had been through personally, they still weren’t much more than their powers granted. His ‘ops team’ weren’t exactly trained soldiers.

Not yet, anyway.

That Lucas and Carrie had even succeeded at all without him, said a lot. He would get their story later. For now, it was time for him to take over. These people were his responsibility. They needed direction. Hope. Ryan could give them that much, at least.

“Everyone, line up along the walls. If you’ve got a life threatening injury, can’t walk, or someone near you can't respond for themselves - raise your hand. If you’re fine for now or can tough it out, do so. Once we get you back, I'll take care of you there.” Ryan commanded, slipping into the same authoritative tone that was starting to come more readily to him.

Some complied outright, as if afraid what might befall them otherwise. The rest turned their eyes to Lucas, who nodded reassuringly. At that, they leaned - or slumped - against the walls. Relief that he was not some new tormentor plainly evident on their faces. Just what the hell had Marcus done to them?

Ryan went to Carrie first since her leg would slow them down. He held out his hand and Carrie pulled something long and thick from a leg pocket. She slapped it in his hand, unwrapped. Chewing down on the tactical energy bar - one of Lily’s field ideas so his people would have a way to be healed if the editor was running on empty - Ryan lowered his voice and gestured with his chin to the people arrayed behind them.

“Where’s Renee?”

Carrie’s expression soured considerably. “Your little bedroom buddy ducked out on us.”

Ryan frowned. “She… what?”

“Found some guy with a power she wanted, whispered something to him, and then they just… packed up their proverbial shit and left.”

Carrie’s face went white and she sucked in a harsh breath as Ryan healed her leg, the bone making a series of sick popping sounds as it righted itself. Then, without any further acknowledgement, handed over the rest of her bars and left without another word. She stopped in the middle of the group where some furry children were huddled next to one another and began checking them over for what was obviously not the first time. To Ryan, the wolf children looked shaken, but not injured. Relief washed through him, pushing down the knot in his stomach. At least we were able to find them. I don't know that Carrie or Lucas would've come back if we hadn't.

The editor turned to Lucas, who already had his backup bars ready and held out.

“So… what really happened?” Ryan asked his friend quietly, once Carrie was out of earshot.

Lucas was silent for a moment, considering his before answering. “She found someone who said he could find her sister.”

That got an eyebrow raise out of the editor. “Really?”

Lucas grimaced, his next words coming out with clear distaste. "I never got his name, but he said his power let him find people. She asked for him to help her, he… refused. Said he just wanted to go home. Mourn for his lost family.”

Ryan felt his stomach twist. The blood oath Renee had taken only protected their group from her... It didn’t stop her from using her power on others. The editor suddenly felt distinctly responsible for the man's predicament. Never again. Ryan promised himself. Never giving out a mind control type power ever again.

His resolve firm on that point, Ryan asked the obvious question. “And that’s when she…?”

Lucas nodded slowly, then clenched his teeth as Ryan healed the wolfman’s injuries. There were no pops this time. Only an odd rushing sound that came from Lucas' limbs as his blood was replenished. Ryan could only liken it to the sound of a water balloon refilling. Both men remained silent as the process finished. Lucas handed over his remaining tactical bars, then put a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"We will find her." The wolf-man said simply.

Ryan wordlessly raised a fist and Lucas returned the gesture with a solid bump. Then the editor waded into the crowd of freed prisoners to handle the worst of their injuries.

-----------------------------------

"Ryan, we have a problem." Lucas said, interrupting him with B-movie cliche level phrasing. The big man's hands were back on his rifle, but thankfully he was keeping it trained on the ground this time. A fact the editor was grateful for, since his friend apparently didn't have the best trigger discipline.

Ryan finished putting the young man's femur back inside the skin where it was supposed to be. He didn't want to ask what the problem was, so instead the editor gave the young man - James - an encouraging smile and clapped him on the shoulder. Color was quickly returning to James’ face, and his expression was one of profound relief. Ryan turned to Lucas once he was sure the man wouldn’t fall back over.

"There are at least fifty men out front." Lucas reported, rather calmly for the statement Ryan thought. "Most armed, if not all. They're setting up barriers to fire from and blocking the parking lot off."

"Oh." Fuck. Ryan's mind raced. Armed wasn't good, it meant they could mow down the people Ryan was trying to free if their enemy were so inclined. They didn’t have anyone with a power particularly suited to defending that many either - and Ryan was just about out of points.

Guns were still deadly in a super-powered world… but that also means our would-be opponents don't have a combat-related superpower. If they did, they wouldn't have brought guns with them.

Given the circumstances, there was no way these men weren't here for Ryan's group. Which meant it was time to move. Whoever wasn’t healed up now would just have to bear with it. Not like I could’ve gotten to much more of them anyway.

"Alright. Here's the plan. I'll open up a wall, you take these people out back. Give me a count of fifty, then have Carrie signal for the ride out. I'll make sure Big Mamba can get to you, just make sure to pick me back up at the rendezvous point."

To his credit, Lucas didn't bat an eye at the ridiculous odds Ryan had just put himself up against. The wolf man just nodded and went to inform his wife of the plan. Several of the patients nearby stared at the editor like he'd just offered himself up as a sacrifice. James opened his eyes wide as if ready to protest, but the man didn't seem to have the courage to voice his concerns. Instead, he held out a weak fist and said. “Go kick some ass.”

Ryan smiled in spite of himself and returned the gesture with his wooden hand. He helped pull James up, then moved down the hall to an open exam room. A few disintegrated sections of wall, insulation, and wiring later, there was a clear path open to the rear of the hospital. Ryan quickly jogged back.

In a commanding tone that he hoped projected more confidence than he felt, Ryan gave the order. "Alright everyone, time to move! Follow Lucas, get on the bus, and I'll see you all shortly!"

Stopping only to grab his duffel bag, Ryan sprinted back towards the hospital's main entrance.

Running through the corridors he'd been wheeled through just weeks before was surreal for him. Ryan had never liked leaving his room back then, mostly few of the staff and even fewer of the patients had been able to conceal the pity on their faces whenever he went by. Still, doing so had been the only real change in his weekly routine to look forward to. Outside of the odd gaming session. And even if it had taken what felt like hours just to be wheeled down to reception, it was the closest he'd been able to get to movement.

Now though... now he was running like a trained athlete. Barely even breaking a sweat as he vaulted over gurneys and crash carts for fun, dodging emptied supply racks and the open doors of pilfered cabinets alike. A feeling of euphoria began to come over him, despite the circumstances, and laughter welled up even as he ran.

He... may have looked a little mad as he went. A paramedic in blood-splattered gear sprinting down the halls laughing at the sheer ridiculous turns his life had taken. Ryan didn't care. In truth, he enjoyed looking a little crazy. He certainly felt it.

Ryan was about to take on fifty-some armed men - all of whom had unknown superpowers and were expecting trouble - with nothing but his duffel bag, the surprise gift McCarthy had given him, and a thin metal stick that melted people.

And that last one Ryan had to be careful touching, because it'd melt him too if he wasn’t careful.

Ryan grinned as he rounded the last corner to the hospital’s main entrance. Then he hefted the duffel bag in front of him and dashed straight through the double doors towards the armed positions outside.

He almost felt sorry for them.

Almost.

-----------------------------------

On the other side of the doors, fifty-some odd men in police uniforms opened up on Ryan with pistols and assault rifles the second he came through.

A hail of angry bullets slamming into him, the pavement, and the large red cross affixed to the wall. Sparks flew, chunks of wall and pavement went flying, shell casings littered the parking lot like popcorn on a theater floor… It was surprising just how loud concentrated gunfire was. Not two steps out the door and Ryan’s ears were reporting nothing but ringing gunshots. He could almost feel himself going deaf in real time.

Amidst it all though, the editor kept moving. Holding his duffel bag up from the inside so that the rear faced his foes, Ryan charged towards the first barricade. As he went, Ryan made sure his legs and any body parts not behind the bag were covered in a protective layer of his most protective skin.

Skin that, as of the other day, now absorbed and repelled kinetic force… like bullet impacts. It was hands down Ryan’s favorite new upgrade. It was also ridiculously expensive. He hadn’t been able to afford a full body makeover before the operation, otherwise this fight would be going a whole lot differently.

Ryan had however been able to line the outer wall of the duffle bag with the material he’d made back in the forest. A material which, after further experimentation, he’d decided to call ‘Kinetium’. It wouldn’t repulse energy on its own, not without a mind or switch to direct it, but it would absorb impacts just like his new skin. Kinetium wasn’t a flawless defense of course, all that absorbed energy had to go somewhere. As Ryan had quickly learned, the material stored the energy as heat. Heat which would slowly radiate away instead of being retained. Something he could direct. At least until the metal hit its limit, whatever that was. That was another matter entirely though, and something Ryan hadn’t had time to experiment with just yet.

For now, the editor knew kinetium would radiate heat faster and faster the more it absorbed. If it took in too much, Ryan could only imagine the end result would leave him a bullet-riddled swiss cheese impersonator.

It never would hit that point, however. Because the bag’s inner layer, where the dispensed heat was directed, was lined with a material that absorbed heat. That second layer in turn converted the heat as quickly as it was released into an electrical charge that would be stored up until touched. It had taken a lot of work, but the end result was now effectively letting the editor turn bullets into fuel for his own superpower.

What was it Sun Tzu had said? “If your enemy is secure, be prepared.”

As bullets fell harmlessly to the ground before him, Ryan felt both prepared and supremely vindicated. He’d been lugging this heavy bag around all morning. There were no scales back at base, but he was pretty sure it weighed at least a hundred pounds after the changes he’d made to it. After his encounter with McCarthy, he’d been wondering if all that work had even been worth the effort. Or all the points he’d invested making it.

Now though? Ryan could hear his ace in the hole paying off in spades, saving his life with every shot.

Just before arriving at the first makeshift barrier - one of those filled hard-plastic roadblocks police used to guide traffic - Ryan reached one of his hands deeper into the bag to grab the handle of the electrically charged inner lining he’d made to ensure it didn’t just zap whoever grabbed it. Electricity immediately surged down his arm straight into his chest. There were no sparks, but he could feel energy flooding into him. Checking his new total, the editor grinned.

Then he jumped, giving McCarthy’s ‘gift’ a light underhand toss so that it’d land atop the barrier just before he did. Landing with his right foot atop the sphere, Ryan activated his power.

Would you like to release all stored energy as a kinetic blast from your foot?

Warning: This will fully deplete energy reserves.

Ryan selected ‘Yes’. For the first time since the bullets had started flying, he heard something. A deafening boom came from directly underneath him, flattening the barrier to the pavement, releasing a shockwave of gas and air that knocked every gunman for at least a 25-meter radius off their feet, and launching the maniacally grinning editor up, up, and away.

He wished it had been a graceful launch, like some superhero taking off. Instead the editor went tumbling through the air head over heels. It took every ounce of Ryan’s enhanced strength to hold onto his bag as he went flying over the parking lot. Still, in the brief glimpses he had of what was left behind, the editor had time for one last satisfied thought before it was time to consider his landing.

Who brings guns to a super fight?