《Phantom Limb: and the Chorus of the Dead》2.8 Superhot

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“Did you really think I’d just run in here without making preparations, Thomas? Oh no, I returned a bunch of that boiling hot steam to a previous unheated state! Which if you happen to know basic physics, is water, then ice.”

“Don’t patronize me. I know the three elements. Also, this feels contradictory to your theme of heating stuff.”

“It’s the three states of matter, and also, there are between four and six of them, depending on how you count them.”

“All right, don’t try and make me feel bad with your electrician’s degree or whatever just because you lost!”

“What do you mean? YOU lost!” Then, Blair felt something cold and metallic touch the back of her head. Her heat gun, being held against her scalp by the phantom hand that wrestled it away from her.

“Blair, you seem really nice and genuine, but I will not hesitate to fire this gun. Now melt this ice and let me go.” Thomas said, trying to put on an unthreatening tone. Blair wasn’t moving. Her cheeks were puffed up, and her eyes were narrowed in deadly focus, determined to pursue her one goal. “Blair, why do you like an angry chipmunk? It’s funny—don’t get me wrong—but pouting isn’t going to do anything about it.” Blair still didn’t move, her eyes narrowing further. “Oh, fuck. You’re doing a move aren’t you?” Thomas shouted, barely having enough time to duck as Blair fired out a column of fire from her mouth and nose. The flames hit Thomas, burning his arms and sending him flying backwards as he tried to shield his face. He hesitated to fire his gun as he hit the ground, giving Blair the time to snatch it from midair as she turned around to face it.

“I was able to gather enough oxygen in my mouth, nose, and lungs by not exhaling so that I could superheat it and fire it out as a blast of superheated flames, before healing my respiratory system by returning it to its unburnt state,” Blair said, still turned around. “See, when I commit to my goal, it’s all that matters to me, Thomas, and—oh shit, he’s gone,” Blair said, turning around to see the melted ice and the lack of Thomas lying on the ground.

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Thomas was running back towards the main transformer room in an attempt to hide amongst its cover. He could hear and see Blair behind him, running even faster than he was thanks to her jets of steam. Thomas still had some fight left in him, but Blair seemed as though she’d never relent. Thomas was able to lose her for a brief period, giving him a moment to hide behind one of the many transformers.

Blair stepped into the transformer room, slowing herself down in order to not corner herself in a trap. I recognize this guy’s Civ from somewhere. I’m not sure where, but I somehow know not to underestimate him, Blair thought. “Come out Thomas. I’m ready for another round. I can do this all night! I have nowhere to be . . . except I need to feed my cats in the morning!” Blair shouted, feeling kind of sad that she needed to include that last bit. “Also, I have a very active social life. And I definitely have a significant other who I’m very happy with, so don’t get any ideas!”

“I’m gay.” Blair heard from behind her, half a second before the force of a massive punch tore through her insides and sent her flying fifty feet forwards towards the entrance. She looked up, brushed the hair out of her eyes, and saw Thomas with a glowing purple fist standing tall in the distance. She also felt the massive hole that had been placed inside her abdomen—a hole that was still burning from the force of Thomas’s punch. “And if you don’t keep fighting, I’ll heal you.”

“SUPERHOT!” Blair yelled, returning the scorching wound to its previous state and standing up from the ground, readying herself to go toe to toe once more. She ran towards Thomas, sprinting at full tilt, letting out an enraged battle cry and preparing to land the final blow. And then she tripped.

“I knew you were going to do that,” Thomas said with a chuckle, seeing Blair trip on a phantom vein he had placed in the pathway between two transformers. Suddenly, Blair saw two phantom ribs rise out of the ground, their sharp ends driving into each of Blair’s shoulders. “You don’t really pay a lot of attention when you’re angry, do you? It’s a battle flaw. And one that wasn’t hard to exploit.”

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“Oh yeah? Well, let’s see how you like something I’m good at. Working with transformers!” Blair shouted, continuing to sprint, but veering at the last second as she tore away from the path and crushed the phantom ribs with her hands, leaving two gaping wounds in each of her shoulders that made it hard to maneuver them effectively. But she didn’t need precision. Instead, she swung her glowing molten arm directly into a transformer, filling it with energy and sending a powerful explosion rippling out from it. The incredible power of the transformer’s explosion did little to Blair, who returned herself to pre-explosion, but Thomas was sent flying backwards into another transformer as his clothes turned to flame and his hair was set ablaze. And that was just when he was far away.

Remarkably, Thomas was able to stand up, albeit with incredible weakness as he felt his charred skin flake off of his body. He felt like he was going to die. Thomas looked around at the remains of the transformer explosion and saw that a few others had been affected by the blast. There was fire all over the ground from debris, and Blair had stepped out of it completely unharmed. This entire place was going down. Blair’s hands were glowing white-hot as she slowly sauntered towards him, that dark determination in her eyes.

“Blair, you have to undo this. This entire place is going down!” Thomas said, slowly walking backwards as he clutched his wounds. “Please! This’ll knock out power to a huge chunk of the city! There are hospitals in this part of town. Blair, please!” Thomas struggled to shout. Another transformer exploded, sending more debris around the facility. They were spaced out enough that the domino effect wasn’t instantaneous, but the dominoes were coming down regardless, and Thomas was about to be crushed by them. “Blair, are you listening to me? Do you see this?”

Blair didn’t. Her eyes were trained on Thomas Finn. She wouldn’t stop until he was dead, but Blair didn’t really want to kill him. She wasn’t thinking like that. It was instinct, she just wanted him gone. “Superhot.”

“Phantrana!” The two shouted, Blair flying forward on a jet of steam, closing the distance, sending out a volley of white-hot and extremely fast glowing punches. Thomas sent out a volley of his own attacks, a mass of six phantom hands striking almost as fast, with the two clouds of flying fists tearing through each other as Thomas fell backwards, his injuries worsening. The two didn’t seem to be making a dent in the other, and Thomas sat back and watched the facility burn. The transformers’ explosions began to cause cracks in the ceiling since many were connected to it. Pieces of burning concrete debris had begun to fall as Thomas’s vision faded. He didn’t want to die here. Then, he saw a piece of debris fall above him, preparing to crash down on him. No, wait. It was falling on Blair, Thomas realized. If Blair was killed, then she couldn’t revert everything back with her Civ. Thomas realized his wounds were going to kill him anyways. And so he filled his body with strength and sent himself flying above Blair and directly under the boulder’s path. Creating dozens of phantom ribs and patches of phantom skin to slow it down, along with enough hands and feet to fill him with the strength to destroy it. This was the most painful thing he had experienced in his life. It was like eight transformer explosions going off inside of every point in his body, filling it with glowing purple light as he sent his fist crashing into it and shattering the car-sized concrete slab to pieces.

* * *

Thomas woke up in a prison cell with his injuries healed and his hair having been returned after being singed off. He felt fine, though he didn’t remember much, but overall . . . pretty good. Except for the fact that two police officers were standing in front of his cell.

“Excuse me, sir. We got a call from security guard Robert Engels about two trespassers. Know anything about that?” one of them asked.

“Um . . . kind of.”

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