Markus was out of his depth.

It had been a long time since he’d felt that way in combat, but he didn’t have a wealth of experience to draw on here.

If they were fighting people, even people with superpowers, he would be on steadier footing, but a magical moose?

It wasn’t about to stay still and give him a fistfight.

It charged back and forth, its bulk cutting through the snow like a fish through water. And mist constantly swirled around its head, condensing into ice chunks that would crack bone if they connected.

As a flash of green deflected a stray ice chunk, Markus resented his Class.

Steven could protect, attack, and move with his Skills. Margie had several ways to attack, and Hop Scotch Hound opened a whole new world to her.

Markus could hit and get hit. None of the others could beat him in that field, but that wasn’t enough here. It didn’t matter how hard he could punch if he never got close to the enemy.

His breath fogged in the air, mixing with the swirling snow.

Through the buffer of his Skill, he could feel his fatigue rising up like a specter. His Skill could drop two, maybe three more times, and then he was done.

Use your head. You can hit hard, but you can’t catch it. What’s the solution?

Three options. Find a way to speed yourself up, slow Bullwinkle down, or predict where he’s going to be.

Well, Markus could do two of those at once.

He angled towards Micheal in time to see the man dive forward, an ice chunk narrowly missing him.

His new Skill kept activating for brief flashes, giving the man just enough of a boost to keep him in one piece.

Markus’s legs pounded through the snow, the power of a full Meter filling him as he was able to run all out.

He caught up to Micheal in no time. “Feel like drawing the moose’s ire?”

The young man made a face. “Who says ire?”

Markus laughed. “Give me a break! Are you ready or not?”

Micheal nodded a grin firmly in place. It didn’t hide all the fear from his eyes, but it was a good attempt.

“My taunt’s still on cooldown, but it should be easier to piss it off after taunting it once.”

Markus scanned the fight. The moose was going after Margie, and the woman was doing a great job keeping its attention.

It would charge her only for Noodle to take her place, causing strikes to miss or allowing the dog to dance away from a charge that would’ve clipped her.

And the whole time, one of them moved towards the moose’s flank.

It didn’t matter which because any of them could be there in a blink.

But even with her flurry of swaps, the moose would’ve worn them down if it weren’t for Steven.

Shields rushed out in a green frenzy. Stopping ice from forming and deflecting the chunks that made it through.

Bullwinkle, for his part, did all he could to keep the ice forming. He pulled in greater swaths of mist and shook his antlers in different patterns to try and give the mist more time.

All of it came together as blue and green clashed in a constant battle for control.

Del skirted the edge of the battle, throwing up her buff when someone looked like they were going to take a hit.

Which usually meant Buford.

The dog's leg had been broken at least once during the fight, and Markus had seen him take a nasty hit to the ribs too.

The dog took the abuse and kept going, climbing to his feet the instant his leg was mended enough to bear his weight.

Now it was their turn to get something done.

Micheal ran to one side and slowed for a beat to scoop a fist full of snow. He packed it tight as he ran, then hurled the snowball at the moose. “Over here, dumb ass!“

Bullwinkle‘s ears twitched, and blue eyes focused on Micheal.

The moose snorted and charged the Damsel.

Micheal spun and ran for all he was worth, his arms pumping and legs churning, snow spraying around them.

A comforting scene of blue enveloped him, and he shot off like an arrow.

The moose was still gaining on him, but slowly.

With his Meter full, Markus was running faster than he ever had before, and that was before Micheal’s buff wrapped around him, weaving itself over his feet like a pair of armored boots.

He shot forward, the blistering wind parting before him.

If he were chasing right behind the moose, it wouldn’t be enough, but he was running at an angle.

Markus met the moose moments before it trampled Micheal.

Amber light poured from his fist, and then he used Meter Break.

More power than he’d ever had before thundered through his fist, and it cracked through the air like a gunshot.

Amber light ballooned, his fist met fur, and Bullwinkle cried out.

The force of the punch sent pain lancing up his arm, but that was nothing compared to what it did to the moose.

Bullwinkle’s balance failed, and as it let out a pained bellow, the moose toppled over. Narrowly missing Micheal and digging a furrow into the snow as it slid.

Noodle, who had been in hot pursuit the entire time, caught up to the moose and bit down on its leg. Markus rushed over, getting ready to punch down before it recovered.

The moose roared, and the sound shook the park.

Mist condensed in an instant before blasting out in every direction.

It slammed into Markus, lifting him from his feet and hurling him back.

Markus landed in the snow with a grunt. He blinked up at the falling snow, the green and purple of the dome just barely visible through the clouds. He shook himself and climbed to his feet.

His Skill dropped before he could move forward and exhaustion hit him like a punch.

The moose glared at him, malice pooling in its eyes

Bullwinkle opened his mouth, and all the mist in the clearing shifted.

Blue tendrils swirled together, gathering around his antlers before concerning at his open mouth. More and more mist flowed, condensing again and again until something changed.

An invisible tension filled the air as the mist in front of him pushed against his mind like a loaded gun.

A gun aimed right at him.

Steven tried to break up the attack, sending shields slashing into the pillars of mist.

But the instant a shield passed through the columns, they snapped back together, unfazed.

The sense of danger rose as the ball of mist condensed again, shrinking in on itself until it was the size of Markus‘s fist.

The shields stopped slashing through the mist and appeared in front of Markus.

It wouldn’t be enough.

He threw himself to the side as the sense of danger spiked one final time.

The air cracked like a glacier calving as a perfect sphere of ice solidified in front of the moose.

It hung there for a fraction of a heartbeat, blue light spiking from its surface.

And in that speck of time, Markus felt cold.

It seeped over him, reaching toward his bones and raking at his skin. It was like he’d dipped himself into a tub of liquid nitrogen.

Bullwinkle fired.

The sense of cold blasted over Markus’s back, burning him like a brand as it passed.

He rolled, gritting his teeth through the pain.

A solid line hung in the air, starting at Bullwinkle, leading past Markus, and vanishing into the distance.

As he followed the line, trees began to sway, then fall.

They crashed to the ground, slamming into it with great thuds.

The sound kept coming, and for a moment, he feared the Beast had destroyed the entire forest.

Finally, it stopped. Leaving a line of destruction hundreds of feet long in its wake.

Dear God. That almost hit me.

He shook himself as the moose straightened.

Bullwinkle’s blue eyes were firmly locked on Markus now as the mist began to swirl.

“Alright.” He cracked his neck, ignoring the burning pain along his back as he pulled bravado down like a cloak. He was tired, so very tired.

But this fight wasn’t over.

His Skill kindled to life around him. “Let’s see if you can hit the next shot.”