The ambient air pulsates with dense kinetic energy from Dawud’s unstable mind. His arms are extended outwards like a conductor of an orchestra. He flicks his wrists delicately and almost everything in a wide radius around him slowly floats into the air. The unfortunate few survivors who managed to survive his initial telekinetic surge are plucked from the ground. They reach to the floor with their broken and bloodied limbs in an attempt to anchor themselves but their efforts are unsuccessful. They and almost everything else not bolted to the floor rise until they peak at least ten feet from the ground.

“How the fuck is he doing this?” I silently ask myself.

He’s never displayed such raw power before. The level of concentration and focus required to create a telekinetic field this massive for an extended period of time is something of a myth amongst the Kinetic community, even for a category three. The only exception I can think of is Lila but she was on a league of her own. Then a stray thought comes to mind of what Doctor Summers told me about Serodyx. How the side effects are different for each user. Then I wonder if this is what she’d meant. During my prolonged contemplation, Pyrrha slowly rises to her feet and hobbles to the ledge overlooking Dawud.

“Is that…?” she can’t bring herself to finish her question.

“Pyrrha, we need to go,” I say firmly. A loud, jarring noise roars interrupts us. The ground beneath our feet quakes and instantaneously we plummet through the crumbling floorboards. I fall onto a pile of jagged debris while Pyrrha fortunately lands softly on top of Roy’s cold body. Something sharp pieces my side but I quickly spring to my feet before the pain sets in. The air pressure feels tighter closer to Dawud and for obvious reasons. More and more objects collect inside of his field of devastation and I fear he’s growing stronger by each passing second.

“Dawud!” I wince. “Stop this!”

His attention falls upon me, and in a split second Dawud’s he constricts my body, rendering me immobile.

“You!” he spat. “I can’t stand your gross incompetence! Every encounter with Lupo leads to her escape! And it’s all because of you!”

“Dawud, stop!” Pyrrha shouts. She snaps her fingers but conjures weak orange cinder. Confused, she snaps again and produces another cinder less impressive than the one before.

“What the hell?!” she mutters to herself.

“What’s the matter, Pyr? Can’t perform under pressure?” says Dawud snobbishly. He tightens his grip on me and I feel as if my head is going to pop off from my shoulders.

“Dawud!” Pyrrha pleas once more but Dawud ignores her cries. Instead, he snatches her in his grip as well.

“You bastard! Leave her out of this!” I growl. I focus my sights on him and deliver a devastating blow of telekinetic energy. The blast shreds through the air at breakneck speeds. It’s a direct hit, however Dawud remains unaffected except for his clothing which simply flap in the air as if he was blown by a stray gust of wind.

“What the fuck…” I say under my breath.

Dawud sneers. “You look surprised, Ayden. Haven’t you ever heard of anchoring?”

The term doesn’t ring a bell. Though I have a vague idea what it means. He must be using his powers to root himself to the ground, negating any and all foreign telekinetic influence. Dawud tightens his grip on both Pyrrha and I. It becomes harder to breathe. Dawud’s expression is empty and without remorse. It’s like gazing into the face of Death itself. Cold, dark and vengeful.

It fuels me.

Something ignites within my heart and mind simultaneously. A surge of power warms my cold and weak body. I quickly channel this second wind and exert the energy outwards, roaring loudly as it’s expelled. The pulse is powerful enough to disrupt Dawud’s grip on myself. I take a deep breath of relief then spring to my feet, assuming a wide-legged stance. Dawud’s eyes widen but he doesn’t falter for a second. He raises his hand and select pieces of debris orbiting him collectively turn in my direction. He hurls them all at once, too many to count. I hold my ground and create a barrier of kinetic energy before me. Concrete blocks explode on impact and pointed metal bars riccachet off the invisible wall.

Slightly impressed, Dawud smirks but only for a moment. He raises his hands into the air and then throws them downwards. Everything previously levitating comes plummeting to the ground including the survivors from the initial blast. It’s silent now except for the croaking of Pyrrha struggling trying to draw in air.

“Let her go,” I growl.

“Make me,” Dawud replies with a smirk. I roar and implode a section of the club ceiling. Dawud glances upward as boulder sized pieces infrastructure crumble directly above him. He instinctively raises his arms to stop the rubble but the downpour quickly overwhelms him. I hold the material against him, denying any possibility of escape from his entombment; but I feel his energy working against mine… and he’s pissed.

Finally free from his wrath, Pyrrha gasps a long overdue breath. She slowly wobbles to her feet, rubbing her neck and fighting to choke back tears welling in her eyes.

“Pyrrha, get out of here!” I say, struggling to hold back Dawud’s growing strength.

“What? No! I’m not leaving you here!” Pyrrha replies confidently yet raising her fists feebly. She attempts to conjure another fireball but again, she barely produces a spark. I shake my head disapprovingly.

“You’re in no position to fight without your powers! I’ll handle Dawud!”

“Have you looked at yourself? You have one foot in the grave and you want to fight?” Pyrrha protests.

“Damn it, Pyrrha! Go!” I curse. I cannot afford to argue any further. I feel my grip slipping. Dawud is going to break free any second. I have to concentrate, keep my mind focused. Then my cybernetic lights up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I shout to the heavens. I tap on the surface of my cybernetic and the Captain appears as a projection on my wrist.

“Ayden, what’s going on?” she asks. “The freight elevator isn’t functioning. Troubleshooting indicates a power failure.”

“It’s Dawud, ma’am! He’s destroyed the entire club and started attacking us!” Pyrrha replies on my behalf. Elnora juts her lower jaw forward. I can see the panic in her eyes.

“Someone tell York’s men to abort and withdraw! We’re dealing with a Gifted rogue!” she commands to someone off screen.

“Roger, ma’am!” someone replies.

“You two need to retreat to the service elevator. I’m going to find an alternate route and deal with Dawud myself.”

“What?” Pyrrha replies from the sheer absurdity. “You can’t deal with him alone!”

“Don’t worry about me,” she replies with a confident grin. “Just get to safety. That’s an order.”

She ends the transmission. Pyrrha shakes her head with troubled concern. I don’t like the idea as much as her but there is not much time for debate. I feel my grip slipping even more. Dawud is going to break free from his concrete tomb at any moment and when he does, it’ll be hell to pay.

“Pyrrha, go and get out of here! Find cover!”

“What about you?!” she asks, choking up a bit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll buy us some time... but I cannot break my concentra—”

A sudden stroke of lightheadedness hijacks my senses. What’s left of my vision narrows to the size of a pinhead. The floor beneath me sways side to side unnaturally like a boat on rough seas and before I can even finish my sentence, I collapse. Pyrrha catches me in her arms but struggles to hold up my dead weight.

“Ayden!” she says with dismay. She adjusts her hand to get a better grip of my limp body and accidentally touches something protruding from my lower back. I’m reminded of the pain I’d been suppressing for the last few minutes. I let out a pained shriek, only to be overpowered by the sound of moving rubble and the roar of Dawud.

“Oh fucking fuck…” Pyrrha curses under her breath. Whether because for me or Dawud, I can’t tell.

“You die here, Ayden!” proclaims Dawud. He snatches me up with a violent whip of kinetic energy, yanking me from Pyrrah’s arms and dragging me across the floor until I’m within arms reach. He then wraps his large, rough hands around my throat and squeezes tightly.

“I was going to crush you to death with my mind but I’d much rather do it with my bare hands!” he growls. Throwing his weight onto me, he pins me down to the ground and I feel whatever is in my back dig further into my flesh. I cry out in anguish but Dawud tightens his grip around my neck, quickly silencing me. I focus on his blurred shape and fight back with a telekinetic push but he doesn’t budge. He applies more weight into his grip and begins to repeatedly hit the back of my head against the hard floor.

“Let him go!” Pyrrha shouts. She charges Dawud and despite her thin frame, manages to tackle him to the ground. She follows through, delivering a series of rapid jabs to his jaw and cheekbone which stagger him for the time being. I slowly crawl to my hands and knees but the foreign object burrowed within makes the task a near impossibility. I cannot allow it to hinder me any further. To my displeasure, I feel around the tender gash until my fingertips brush across the surface of a thin and wiry material. Touching it triggers my tender nerves to respond with agonizing affliction. I retract my hand and buckle over, waiting for the sharp pain to subside.

“It has to come out,” I tell myself breathlessly. I grit my teeth, coil my fingers around the object’s sopping wet surface and pull as hard and delicately as I can. It comes loose, and slides out of the open gash along with a stream of thick blood. I grunt in pain, quickly applying pressure to the area with my open palm to minimize bleeding. I glance over to Pyrrha whose blurred silhouette continues to deliver blows to Dawud’s head like a champ, though it’s become evident through her short, rapid breaths that her stamina is quickly depleting. She won’t last much longer. I wobble to my feet but immediately fall back to my knees from dizziness. I’ve lost too much blood... I’ve become too much of a liability.

Finally fed up, Dawud snaps and swiftly restrains Pyrrha’s clenched fists back with his brute strength. Pyrrha tries to free her hands but is unable to overpower Dawud’s secure grip.

“Is that all you got, Pyr?” Dawud jeers. “It’s a damn miracle you passed the close quarters combat training!”

Pyrrha bares her teeth and bellows a war cry that would make the strongest man cower in fear. Her arms combust in a show of red and orange flames, reducing her coat sleeves to ash almost instantly. Dawud howls in pain, reclaiming his sizzling hands. He throws her off with a hasty telekinetic shove, knocking her onto her back.

As Dawud frantically blows on his smoldering palms I seize the opportunity to hit him with a sneak attack. I focus on his blurred shape and throw every ounce of strength into a telekinetic blast. The ground before me shakes and Dawud is sent flying into the air before slamming against far fall behind him. I watch as his limp body sticks to the wall for a half second before sliding off like one of those old fashion cartoons. As comediac as it is, I don’t have the strength to even chuckle a little.

“Ayden!” Pyrrha exclaims. She races to my side and hoists me up under her arm.

“Good job! Now let’s get you out of here!” she says. She and I limp out of the center dance floor and into the bar area nearby. The service corridor is just a few more yards, but the heavy shelving once displaying the variety of spirits and liquors had collapsed during Dawud’s kinetic fit, blocking the path leading behind the counter. With the possibility of Dawud waking up at any moment looming over us, Pyrrha clears the shattered glass on the surface of the counter and carefully lifts me over. As I dangle my feet over the ledge to the other side something snatches ahold of my ankle. Startled, I instinctually kick whatever has my leg in its clutches.

“Help… me…” it says hoarsely. I look down and vaguely make out the shape of a body, half alive and bloodied from deep cuts caused by shattering glass. At first, I fail to realize who they are but after a long glance at their long curly hair, I recognize them.

“Carlos?” I ask. He doesn't have the reply before Pyrrha shouts my own name and quickly pulls me off the counter. I fall onto on the floor just as large section of the mezzanine violently crashes on top of the bar counter top.

“I’ve had enough of this!” Dawud howls. I turn over to see his shadowy figure standing in the distance, arms extended outwards in preparation of his powers. He emits a shockwave of kinetic energy that pins Pyrrha and I against the wall of the bar counter.

“When I kill you, there will be one less category three to keep from being at the top!” Dawud projects. “I will reign supreme and I will reclaim the respect I have rightfully earned!”

He advances towards us with a vainglorious strut before crouching down to our level. He waves his blistered hand and separates me from Pyrrha, casting her aside. He motions with his hands a choking gesture and his mental grip coils around my throat.

“Respect this!” the Captains says from afar. Dawud cranes his head upward just before the sound of a gunshot echoes through the club. He grunts and staggers forward a bit, his white shirt rapidly absorbing the river of crimson blood oozing near his shoulder. He turns around to see the Captain entering from a ventilation shaft from the second floor.

“This ends now!” she announces authoritatively. She fires her weapon again but Dawud reflects the bullet with a kinetic barrier. With his attention transfixed on her, Dawud fails to notice another figure emerge from the shadows behind him. Too far to identify, the figure pries a slender object from the rubble nearby and winds it back in preparation for a throw. Before Dawud can raise his hand an inch towards the Captain, the figure hurls the object like a javelin with lethal precision.

“Pinché cabrón!” the figure says.

CLANG!

The metal bar cracks against Dawud’s forearm, breaking bone. He gasps and chokes back his tears of anguish. He nestles his wounded wing on his chest, sucking in air through gritted teeth.

“Jorge!” Pyrrha says, beaming with relief. I sigh in equal relief. With aim like that I should've known it was him a lot sooner. Together, the three of them cautiously approach Dawud and surround him, ready to strike if he makes any sudden moves.

“Judas’!” Dawud exclaims. “You’re all a bunch of fucking judas’!”

He turns to me a final time, and I feel his gaze pierce my soul. I can sense he isn’t going to give up… not until one of us is dead. Without warning, he delivers telekinetic blow to Jorge and the Captain, knocking them back. He turns heel to lunge towards me but a spontaneous column of blue fire ignites underneath Dawud, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m so sorry! You left me no choice!” Pyrrha sobs uncontrollably, intensifying the pillar of fire.

Dawud’s cries pierce through the roaring fire, drawing my attention to his burning body. My heart pumps rapidly in my chest. A pressure forms in my head, softly at first but growing exponentially tighter as the overbearing sensation of familiarity plagues my consciousness. Forgotten memories reveal themselves in the form of involuntary flashbacks that overlap with reality. As Dawud continues to burn alive, his presence is temporarily replaced with the burning body of my mother. The dark ruins of the club transform into ruins the Grand Metro Station. The bodies of the deceased club patrons morph into charred, blackened masses; stripped of their human characteristics by the fire that consumed them long ago.

It all comes rushing back. The dark memories Doctor Polo helped suppress has returned to haunt me. Dread quickly overpowers rational thought. I panic and shut my eyes to block out the imagery but she follows me into the darkness, wailing my name with her banshee-like cry. The pressure building in my head reaches its peak, I try to hold it in but my mind is too weak to contain it.

The floodgates open… releasing a tremendous shockwave of kinetic energy that ripples through the air. The clamor of devastation follows, tailed by the pained shrieks of my squadmates. I’m too weak to open my eyelids to witness the aftermath of my power— though it is probably for the best. The image of my mother fades shortly after and then my mind drifts into the comforting embrace of nothingness…