That’s a bright light.

The thought was absent, bored even as Steven called a Hand-Shield.

Stacey’s Skill slammed into the shield with a thump.

Steven pushed the shield at her, not really trying to hit but to buy time.

She dodged it, and Regan stepped forward.

The nearest fire roared up, the heat pressing against Steven’s back.

He’d been trying to angle away from the fires, but the Red Hand had made enough that it was easier said than done.

He stepped forward as Buford snarled to his left. The massive dog ran and then leaped. Margie flicked her hand, and his shroud flexed, sending the dog flying like a cannonball.

He impacted the hellhound, and as they rolled, his shroud became sticky, tripping and slowing his opponent.

A blue lance rocketed for the dog, and Steven blocked it with a thought.

His shield cracked, almost bursting from the force.

Energy drained out of him in a wave.

Three more shots blasted toward him. Steven dodged the first two and had to throw up a shield as the third screamed for his face.

More energy.

Steven dismissed and then called two shields, slamming one into Stacey’s knee and another into her shoulder. She dodged the one aimed for her knee, but the second landed.

Even more energy, too much energy. That was worse than calling his Tower-Shield.

Regan rushed in, and Stacey fired more shots, forcing Steven to decide between slowing the man or blocking.

He used Compass Push on one shield, shoving it to the right to intercept a shot.

The others were out of position. He dove, the shield he’d moved barely covering one blast as four more raced for him.

He hit the ground and rolled, Micheal’s buff blunting the force of his dive.

He came up and pulled, his shields flying towards him.

“Down!” Stacey screamed.

Regan reacted instantly, dropping flat as the shields sailed over him.

The shields stopped six inches from Steven, but he didn’t dismiss them. The drain was adding up. Much faster than it should, for that matter.

Stacey’s totem started to glow but didn’t fire.

Well, that’s probably bad.

Steven frowned as Regan scrambled back to his feet and kept coming.

Steven…wasn’t afraid. Or nervous or worried or…anything.

He was numb.

That’s not right, is it?

Regan charged, and Steven backpedaled, giving the fire a wide berth.

Regan went right for it, and just before he reached it, his hand flashed red.

As the light faded, the red remained, like a coating of dyed armor over his right hand. He grabbed the fire, and the flames pulled away like cloth, gathering in his palm and trailing behind as he ran.

The flames flashed brighter before condensing and changing. Regan swung his hand, the flames gathering into a staff as he moved.

He scrambled back, but the man had too much reach. Steven was going to get hit.

He jumped, reaching out to the closest shield at the same time he pushed. It slammed backward, hitting him in the chest. Micheal’s Skill dulled the pain but not the force.

Combined with his jump, it just barely shoved him out of the way.

The flames still whooshed past, hot enough to dry out his skin.

He rolled backward. Flames came down.

He knew the man wouldn’t let up, so Steven rolled to the side, calling and shoving another shield into his shoulder as he went.

The gravel-strewn pavement dug into him, but better that than the flames.

He scrambled to his feet, throwing out a shield to try and slow the man down.

It worked since the strike only grazed his shoulder, sending a line of pain racing through his nerves instead of burning through his face.

Regan paused, his stance relaxed as the fire crackled away in his hand. “Make this easier on yourself. I’ll make it quick.”

Steven grit his teeth as his shoulder throbbed, the smell of burnt cloth and singed hair filling his nose.

The man spun his flame staff idly as if bored with the whole affair.

But his eyes remained focused, cold.

Why was he talking now? He’d stopped attacking, so Steven wasn’t compla-

Margie’s voice tore across the parking lot in a panic. “DOWN!”

Steven threw himself to the ground as he called a shield toward where he’d last seen Stacey.

A pillar of blue light as thick around as his arm screamed through the air, its shape warping and twisting as it flew.

It blasted past him, and all the hair on his body stood on end.

It struck his shield, and the green oval exploded. It didn’t offer a speck of resistance as the Skill tore it apart.

Pain flashed through Steven’s mind, but he still rolled.

Another lash of burning pain scorched his back, but he managed to climb back to his feet.

The pain tore at him, but he ignored it. It was easier than he remembered.

Exhaustion weighed him down, pulling at his limbs and slowing his thoughts.

He was far too tired for the number of shields he’d called.

He eyed Stacey as Regan circled him. Can my Tower-Shield even block something like that?

Regan threw his hand out, and the fire sailed forward.

It brightened, and the heat was so intense that It was painful from over five feet away.

Steven darted to the side, and the flames curved, nearly tagging him as he dodged.

Flame touch, flame enhancement, and range control.

He noted each ability he’d seen with detachment.

This is wrong.

Steven’s breaths fogged in the air as Regan closed.

Another fire raged up, and Regan grabbed it.

He threw the flames like a javelin, and they twisted in the air, spreading out with red tendrils.

Steven ran, throwing up shields as he went. It wouldn’t stop the fire from washing over him, but they did a good job insulating him from the excess heat.

They ran past another fire, and as Regan’s red hand passed through the flames, they condensed, lengthening into a sword that poured out heat.

He lunged for Steven.

Steven twisted as the sword sailed by on his left, calling a shield to stop some of the heat.

Before Regan could recover, he slammed that shield into the man's gut.

He staggered, and Steven lashed out, catching him in the jaw.

The sword came up, and Steven danced back.

Another slash, another shield-assisted dodge.

Steven was so focused on the sword that he didn’t see the punch until it took him in the cheek.

A flash of pain, a step backward.

Fire, it’ll come in from the left.

He threw up a shield just in time to catch Regan’s hand mid-swing.

The man’s eyes widened as Steven kicked out, knocking him back before tagging him with a shield to the arm.

A pained roar sounded out, drawing Steven’s eye to Margie and Buford.

The monstrous wolf was dissolving into embers as Buford straightened, his shroud teeming with red light.

Margie pointed at Stacey. “Sick her!” Buford charged, and Stacey ran.

Regan hurled his sword at Margie.

Steven called , and nothing happened.

His calm rippled as the sword flew.

I need to protect her.

He tried to call again, but nothing happened. He was drained.

“Margie!” It was her turn to drop flat as the sword wooshed over her head. She cried out as it passed, its arc taking it close to her feet.

Buford spun, ignoring Stacey as he raced to cover Margie.

Stacey ran to a fire and stuck her totem in the flames.

She quickly pulled it out, the wooden totem glowing a cherry red.

She fired at Buford, and the lasers were now a matching red.

Steven tried to block the shots, but each time he tried to call, all that came out was an empty, gnawing sensation in his gut like he was trying to reach into a bowl that had already been scraped clean.

The lasers hit but were absorbed by Buford’s shroud.

Stacey frowned and then clenched her jaw. The totem began to glow brighter.

Another charged blast like before would tear Margie and Buford apart, and Steven didn’t have the energy to stop it.

His calm shook, and something brushed against his thoughts.

Regan’s gaze snapped between Steven and Margie.

He ran toward Stacey, sticking his hand in the fire she had used.

As the flames roared up, he shaped them into a whip.

It cracked out, and Buford had to throw himself in front of Margie again as the woman was too slow to dodge. The sword throw must have hurt her ankle.

The fire scorched the dog, and he let out a pained yelp.

Steven’s hands clenched into fists.

Buford couldn’t rush Stacey since Regan would target Margie, which meant the woman was free to charge her Skill.

And Steven was too weak to help.

He took a step forward and almost fell, his legs buckling. He was so tired. Something pulsed in the distance, like a drum, heard through thick walls.

Another whip crack, another yelp.

His boots crunched on the gravel as Steven broke into a run.

The pulses grew louder.

He met Regan’s cold gaze and, worse, Stacey's gleeful one.

His calm shattered as rage pounded through.

Thump thump thump

How dare she enjoy this!

And how dare Steven be too weak to stop it!

Thump thump thump!

The totem’s light reached a blinding intensity as Steven threw himself in front of Margie and Buford, his Class pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Steven reached deep, deeper than he ever had before, as he demanded his Tower-Shield answer his call.

At that moment, as the pulsing reached a fever pitch and Stacey’s Skill began to fire, something answered Steven’s call. And it wasn’t just his Skill.

Energy poured into him, filling him to bursting. He seized it, shoving the power into the motes of light that began to form in front of him.

Stacey fired, and the beam was stronger than before, an almost two-foot thick bar of fire that tore at the air.

Regan stepped in its way.

For a heartbeat, Steven didn’t understand. Had their leader turned against them for some reason?

Then the beam brightened. Regan hadn’t blocked the beam, he had caught it.

The flames spun around his hand, convulsing like a living thing. The man trembled, his entire body shaking as he raised his hand, the massive pillar of fire jerking and twitching like a caged animal.

The man ground his teeth, and the fire brightened again. Spots filled Steven’s vision, but he couldn’t look away.

His Tower-Shield finished forming.

Regan raised his shaking red hand and released the coiled destruction.

With a sound like an echoing explosion, the Skill ripped for them in a streak of blinding light.

THUMPTHUMPTHUMP!

PROTECT THEM!

The beam hit, and Steven’s world went white.

His mind swam, a tangled mess of thoughts and sensations swirling through him.

Pain, so intense he thought his head would burst, cold against his back and face. And lastly, his purpose.

His eyes snapped open. Steven was on his back, which explained the cold. He looked up. His shield hung in front of them, its form cracked, great swathes of it missing altogether, with only thin strands of green light holding the gaps together.

But it had held.

Regan and Stacey stared, mouths open in shock as they looked at Steven and the battered Tower-Shield.

They were doubled over, the attack taking almost as much out of them as Steven’s block had taken from him.

He chuckled, and the sound was wet. He whipped at his face, and his hand came back covered in blood.

Well, that explains why my face is so cold.

He tried to climb to his feet, but whatever rush of energy he’d gotten was used up.

That would suck. Surviving a hit like that only to die because you were too tired.

“Who the fuck are you?” Regan asked, his voice strained.

Margie cackled, the sound slightly crazed. “Pound sand!”

Stacey opened her mouth to respond when someone struck her in the back of the head, dropping her instantly.

Steven blinked. “Huh?”