I was shaken up, there was no getting around it. I couldn’t explain what specifically bothered me, but I was real fuckin’ bothered. Maybe I would've gotten my thoughts together if the announcer wasn’t still screaming through the speakers. But the second he shut up, a buzzer screeched through the arena, loud enough to wipe out whatever train of thought I still had.

  Reload was already running by the time I realized that the fight had started. He tossed me a gun while he ran up ahead, positioning himself behind a barricade of filing cabinets. I quickly got my shit together and ran up next to him.

  The first part of our plan was simple enough. We just needed to hit her with as many bullets as possible. Not only would it weaken her super resistance, but it would also bait her into using her powers. If she had a defensive or tanking ability, then we’d have an insight on the rest of her abilities.

  Reload was already laughing maniacally while unloading entire magazines in her general direction. Every time he ran out, it would only take a second before he was going again. But while he was happily shooting, I hesitated. It was dumb, but it felt almost wrong to shoot her.

  I knew logically that this was exactly what she wanted. Her making out with me would throw off my ability to think rationally, and it was happening right now. If I didn’t help Reload, I’d be turning this fight into a one on one.

  Even though I was hesitating to shoot, I still paid attention to what she did. While Reload was shooting, I’d at least figure out what her response was. Reload’s shots at this distance weren’t the most accurate, but there was enough gunfire that she was forced to take cover.

  However, instead of bunkering down, she kept running from cover to cover, using the gaps in Reload’s shooting. While she was closing the distance between us, she was also doing something else. After a few more dashes in-between cover, I could finally tell what it was. She was spray painting every barricade and piece of cover that she was in range of.

  That had to be related to her powers, and considering her name, I couldn’t let her set up. I nudged Reload, causing him to stop shooting for a second. She ran forward the second his gunfire stopped, giving me a clean line of sight. I activated [Take] and pulled the can of spray paint from her hand.

  She froze for a second, dodging behind cover after Reload started shooting again. I hid behind the filing cabinets and inspected the can of spray paint. There were no marks or anything notable about the can, and nothing happened when I sprayed a bit on a nearby piece of cover.

  I threw it as far away as I could. When I popped back up, Tóxica was still running forward. She had another can of spray paint in hand, and that’s when I noticed the utility belt hanging off of her. It had three clamps, two were empty and one held another can of spray paint.

  “Snake Jesus, I can’t hit her for shit. It’s like trying to shoot fish in an ocean,” Reload complained while he pulled out another pair of guns. The pile behind us was starting to grow.

  I had an idea. The second he stopped shooting, she ran forward again. He couldn’t get another pair of guns out before she reached the next piece cover. But I was still armed. It was upsetting, but I had to do it.

  Her face shifted in surprise as another volley of shots rang out while she was exposed. Tóxica continued to lunge forward, but she was too slow. I saw three bullets hit her in the side, her body recoiling in response.

  Before she was behind cover, I used my free hand to [Take] the second can of spray paint in her hands. While it spun in the air, I noticed that something was wrong. It was still spraying. By the time I managed to catch it, an entire path had been marked towards us.

  I struggled to stop the damn thing from spraying as it covered us and our surroundings. After a few seconds, Reload snatched it from my hands and threw it to the ground. He unloaded a few bullets into the can, stopping it. The paint still inside sloshed around, spilling onto the floor and us.

  I had no idea what the spray paint did, but Tóxica had already managed to figure out how to use my powers against us. While only a bit had gotten onto my outfit, Reload was soaked with the stuff.

  Reload tried to wipe the paint off his clothes, while complaining about the bright purple dye job. I tried to see what the paint did, hoping for some reaction. I still wasn’t certain if this was some slow acting poison, the set up to another ability, or just a distraction.

  “Cabróns, thank you for the help!” she called out.

  “Yeah, fuck you too!” Reload responded.

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  “No, no, mis amigos! It is you who are fucked!”

  The cap of the last can flew out from behind her cover, a couple of compacted cars stacked together. Reload handed me a new pair of guns, and he started firing with his own. I couldn’t go easy on her, not when we were at a disadvantage.

  The crowd that had been cheering and chanting had gone quiet. It was eerie, a sign of something horrific to come. Whatever she was doing had them on the edge of their seats. I waited with bated breath, aiming my guns with a death grip.

  The cover she was hiding behind suddenly broke apart, hunks of metal flying in every direction. We barely ducked in time to avoid a crushed Corolla that would’ve taken our heads clean off. I moved back up, getting a look at the thing standing before us.

  It wasn’t easy to bring myself to shoot someone who I just was making out with, and who I was originally hoping to sleep with after this. But it was far easier to stomach after she became whatever the fuck was standing in the middle of the arena.

  Tóxica had grown to well over eight feet in height, her clothes torn in her transformation. She heartily drank from the opened can of spray paint, as her body continued to grow and change. Her hair had mostly fallen out, leaving stray strands that were quickly falling out.

  Her once cute face had shifted into a bloated reptilian mess. Her elongated snout had rows of teeth, razor sharp and shining underneath the arena’s light. Tóxica’s skin had been replaced with dark green scales, with occasional patches of neon green and purple scales scattered around her body. Her reptilian body also came razor sharps claws and a hefty tail the size of Reload, because why the fuck not.

  In the United States of North America, we had a constitutional right to shoot all sorts of deadly weapons. But when there's a hulking reptilian monstrosity? That right becomes a requirement. Reload and I fired every last bullet that we had into her while she tossed the metal can into her mouth, eating it whole.

  I couldn't tell you just how many shots we hit, though I’d guess all of them considering her size, but what I can tell you is that she took every last one without flinching. That was the first sign that we were completely fucked.

  The next sign was when her bright purple scales started to glow. The purple paint that covered the battlefield started to sizzle and burn, melting through everything it touched. The barriers and blockades were quickly corroding, falling apart.

  Reload’s outfit was quickly breaking apart, having been stained by the toxic acid. He violently shook off whatever was left on his hands, but there was still some burning against his exposed torso.

  Thankfully, my clothes were safe for the most part. The rest of me wasn't so lucky. Pain like a roaring fire burst underneath my mask, and my legs quickly lost feeling as I fell to the ground.

  My ears teared up as I screamed so violently that my vocal cords threatened to tear. My hands were shaking as I ripped off what remained of my mask, hurling it away from me. There wasn't any way to see myself, but Reload’s pained reaction gave me all the information I needed.

  Tóxica’s lip gloss was made of the same material as the spray paint. I struggled to think, the acid tearing through my face threatening to knock me out. When I put a hand to my mouth, hoping that maybe it wasn’t so bad, I felt nothing.

  Everything below my nose was gone. From my lips to my teeth, and even part of my tongue had sloughed off. Reload was shouting something at me but I couldn't hear it. It all hurt so bad that I lost track of everything else, blinded from the world by my pain.

  You know what I always wondered? Why did the Dendra save us? Humanity was on the brink of annihilation when a bunch of reptilian assholes showed up and stopped us. They then changed everything about life on Earth.

  It took them a month to invent Throm, a week after that they cured world hunger and global warming. Hell, they even forced us into world peace. These guys slithered on in, saved us from ourselves, and they didn’t ask for a damn thing in return.

  But fifty years down the line, they fucked off from Earth in a panic. Even left behind most of their ships, where they still float through our skies. The only answer we got was that something was coming. That was the day powers appeared, and the day that half of the human population died.

  I felt a crack as my back cracked against a solid hunk of metal, forcing me out of my daze. I’d been so overwhelmed by pain that I lost touch with reality. Waking up took me from a calm bliss of agony to more of an oh-fuck-why feeling. But all that mattered was that I was fully conscious again.

  “Boss, you gotta get the fuck back in the game!” Reload panted, having dropped me. He was soaked in sweat, the majority of his outfit and jewelry were now gone.

  “Dowowy, imba,” I responded. That was a decent response considering I was missing half of my face.

  “Okay, you up? Thank fuck. I’ve been carrying you while running. I'm fucking beat, dude.”

  I said unintelligible bullshit back to him.

  “Please, stop talking. I don’t fuck with seeing your half-tongue flap. Right now she's fucking with us, throwing shit and roaring for the crowd.”

  I nodded, my main form of communication having been violently taken away from me. At the very least I still had the system to communicate with.

  “We could maybe get the drop on her, since she's not focused on us. But what's the game plan? Please, like, write that shit in blood or message me instead of speaking.”

  I thought about what to do, needing a plan while we still had time. I had no clue the type of person she was, but I knew the type of person Contract was. An entertainer. If she wasn't going in for the kill, it was because he still needed us alive to give a good show.

  And if they were going to underestimate us, we'd happily take advantage. We needed a decisive hit that would take her out, and preferably before this gaping facial wound killed me.

  I held up four fingers. The fourth strategy we prepared. Reload laughed in response, excited for the plan I had in mind.