Gutshot’s body blasted backwards and Sami had to use all the force of his Shadow Hand just to prevent being smashed into by the flailing human-projectile. Easing him down, Sami hesitated before looking at Gutshot’s face. Flashes of the Silent Scream passed his mind, the dead looking anywhere from at ease to grossly disfigured. Mutilation was the last thing he wanted to see on Gutshot’s face and chest after such a heroic sacrifice. Breathing in to spur some bravery, Sami leaned the body back and got a look at his friend’s remains.

  Gutshot looked back, completely unscathed, an amazement in his eyes.

  “You’re alive! You’re okay!” Sami exclaimed, shaking him.

  “I… I remember my dad!” Gutshot said in wonder.

  “Man, he really is one-track minded about his dad,” Dawson said, shivering from adrenaline spikes.

  “No! I mean, I remember my actual dad, Gorman! The real one!”

  Glancing above, Sami suddenly remembered that he saw the Power Sense Bubbles shatter above Gutshot. The black-bubbled Anomaly was gone, the father replacement. His namesake red bubble was gone, too.

  “He must have hit you with the Antiserum!” Sami said, looking over Gutshot for other injuries.

  Nothing showed up save for a tiny red point on his exposed belly, presumably where an injection had hit him before being blown away in the explosion. Miraculously, he was otherwise unharmed. Grinning, Sami helped the wobbly Gutshot to his feet and pat him on the shoulder with his Shadow Hand.

  “Thanks, Gutshot. You saved us all.”

  “I did?” Gutshot looked between his allies who all nodded gratefully. “I was just doing what any of you would have done, presumably. Given you wielded a Gutshot of your own.”

  Sami tilted his head, intrigued by Gutshot’s newly acquired vocabulary, a slight, amused smile playing on his lips.

  “NIS!” Boli screamed in a panic. “Fire the second volley!”

  Going stiff, Sami and his friends broke their attention from Gutshot to Boli. Hurriedly, Dawson dusted Gutshot off and pushed him toward the glass barrier.

  “What are you doing?” Gutshot asked.

  “You gotta stop the second wave!” Dawson said urgently.

  “I can’t do that! My Gutshot’s done, it’s gone!”

  “What?”

  “The Antiserum cut off both his powers,” Sami explained.

  “Then what do we do?” Francine asked, fire at her fists but consternation in her eyes.

  “Uhh, boss,” NIS spoke from his ethereal spot above, “there is no second volley. You said ‘fire everything.’”

  “NIS! Obviously I didn’t mean everything everything! There should always be contingency volleys! Or are you just that bad at planning?”

  “Me!?” NIS sounded baffled. “Let me play back exactly what you said.”

  Boli gripped nervously to the arms of his swivel chair. “Errm, we don’t have to.”

  “Commencing playback…” the voice changed to a recording of Boli’s, “No more stages! Fire everything! Now! Everything!”

  Boli set his jaw tightly, looking at the drones standing diligently beside him. “You two better be enough to take out a bunch of kids.”

  “They will donate to The Cause.” One bot saluted.

  The two machines stomped their way to a door in the side of the thick glass protection and exited in an orderly fashion. Leaping from the stage above, they landed in the arena, arms out.

  “These look like the same kinda bots that killed Lightcrown. Be careful, everyone,” Sami said, creeping forward. “Gutshot, you should hang back and keep Claire safe.”

  “Understood.”

  Sami carefully stepped closer into the arena, holding out a Shadow Fist. Beside him, Francine ignited two forearms into hot flames, Dawson Sharpened arms and legs, and Kutso’s sword floated just above the trio.

  Stomping forward in a rush, one of the two bots thrust a massive metal arm Sami’s way. His Shadow Hand made it just in time to catch it and bear the brunt of the attack. Then, the mechanical arm tore through the shadow, breaking it apart and dissipating it. Staggering back a step, Sami again felt out of his element against Boli. A single punch was enough to take down a Shadow Hand. He couldn’t even redirect the focus of the blow, Shadow Hand barely enough to slow it down. The force would be enough to crack a skull open, if not completely lop a head off.

  “Someone tag in, I need to reform,” Sami said.

  “I got it!” The sword that was Kutso swooped down and slashed an inch into the metal of the standing machine.

  Twitching, it reacted immediately, grabbing the hilt of the blade and chucking it directly at Dawson. Yelping, he deflected the sword with a Sharpened arm, the screech of metal ringing out before the sword lodged into the wall behind him, missing the passed-out Kutso by inches.

  Eyes wide on her inert body then the stuck sword, Sami reached out a hesitant hand.

  “Kutso. You okay?”

  “Someone hurry up and get this thing!” Kutso’s pained voice startled the group, emanating from the droid that just threw the sword. “There’s exposed wiring on the back of its neck, I should have cut it with my sword!”

  She’d jumped possessions, and now the bot was moving in a slow jitter, fighting for control with her. Amazed, Sami recalled she could only possess objects from her body, meaning she jumped from her sword to her body to the bot in mere moments.

  “This won’t hurt you, will it?” Francine’s flame bloomed to ten times its size.

  “Just do it!” Kutso’s voice screamed.

  Lowering her arms like she was aiming a cannon, Francine exploded like a jet plane’s engine, engulfing the droid in white hot flames. The bot thrashed as it tried to escape, but invisible binds kept it in place.

  The second bot leaped into action, charging with arms raised to smash Francine.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Dawson dashing forward and slashing his arms upward just as its attack descended.

  Cutting into the metal, Dawson could barely manage moving the attack away from Francine. One bot arm flew to the side, but another rounded back in and cracked him in the shoulder. Screaming in pain, Dawson breathed through his teeth, his shoulder angling a nauseating direction. Valiantly, he ignored the immense pain and slashed again with his one remaining good arm.

  The bot took the blow in its chest, another shallow cut. Dawson snapped his head up, pulling his arm out just in time for the bot to thrust its leg upward, bashing Dawson in his stomach. Flying back in a blur, he smashed into the wall and slumped over, groaning.

  “Yeah! That’s the way!” Boli shadow boxed an uppercut. “You’re recording this, right NIS?”

  “Wh… What?” NIS balked. “You never told me to start recording!”

  “It was implied!”

  “Clearly it wasn’t!”

  Sami wanted to run to Dawson’s side, but the second bot had turned its attention back to Francine. She still focused on the first bot, putting all her energies into shredding it apart in flames.

  Running as fast as he could, Sami reached out with both arms just as the bot threw another double-fisted punch at Francine. His hands were just shy of being able to stop it.

  But his Shadow Hand sprouted from his back and caught the attack, dissipating from the sheer intensity of it. The bot backed off from Francine, looking down at the spot the Shadow Hand used to be, then looking to Sami. It seemed to have connected where the Shadow Hands were coming from.

  “I killed it!” Francine said, falling back on her hands and rear in exhaustion, her face a tomato red. The burned bot creaked as it collapsed into several pieces. “One down. But I’m totally out of flame.”

  “Kutso.” Sami took two quick steps back from the approaching bot. “Can you slow this one down?”

  To his dismay, there was no reply.

  “Did she get hurt in the bot?” Sami asked as the remaining bot raised its two hands overhead.

  “She’s out cold,” Claire called, standing over her body.

  “Isn’t she always out cold when she’s possessing matter?” Gutshot asked.

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  “Yeah, well, she’s still out and that thing’s still moving!” Claire said.

  The bot brought an attack on a direct collision course with Sami’s forehead. Flinching back, Sami raised his two arms, only for another Shadow Hand to appear and catch the attack, breaking apart in the stress of the blow. Sami laughed in a mix of overflowing adrenaline and joy. His reformation was down to mere seconds. There was a chance.

  Another pair of fists, another Shadow Hand deflection. A kick from below, and a Shadow Hand to grab it. Sami tried to punch it back at one point, but his knuckles cracked against it and it didn’t budge in the slightest. It was like slapping a shipping container and expecting it to yield.

  If the bot could emote, Sami was sure it would bleed frustration. Its movements were quick and precise, and while Sami’s were more organic and clumsy, he remained clear of each attack. The bot stomped with what was unmistakably anger, cracking the white tile arena. Did Boli program emotion into all his stuff?

  Then the machine suddenly widened its stance as a new idea came to mind. Hands at its hips, it prepared to strike from two angles at once. Maybe it would have half the strength with only one arm, but Sami was pretty certain it would still break a bone. Before he could think of a plan, both metallic fists rocketed forward. Sami reacted instinctively, trying to grab both attacks with a single Shadow Hand.

  Both attacks stopped short of his face.

  “How are you doing that?” Claire asked, stunned.

  To his pleasant surprise, two different Shadow Hands sprouted out and stopped the attacks. Staring, dumbfounded at the Shadow Hands, they gripped tightly to the bot’s fists and prevented it from rebalancing.

  Like a flare going off in his mind, Sami suddenly realized the true nature of reforming his Shadow Hand. He was always making a new one from scratch. And the timer he ran was how long it took to make a fresh hand. He never attempted to make more than one because he had no idea that he could. But with the impossible circumstance stacked with his ability to create them at a much faster speed, he was able to produce two at once.

  Straining, Sami tried to create a third Shadow Hand to punch and give the bot a direct blow, but no such luck. He was limited to two. For now, anyway. If he could work out the Shadow Hand in strength and its ability to quickly create new ones, he was certain he could push the limit of how many he could produce at once.

  But at the moment, he was at a standstill. Every blow that the bot threw could be easily caught by a Shadow Hand, but they were getting destroyed as fast as they were being created. A delicate dance played out. The robot would stomp forward and smash a fist forward. Sami would weave to the side and bash the fist with a Shadow Hand. If Sami let it get too close, he might not be able to stop a blow in time. If the bot gave him seconds to breathe, he would try his luck at smashing its head with a Shadow Hand.

  “Need help?” Gutshot asked.

  “Yeah, anything you got would be good here,” Sami called back.

  “Okay. Claire should go assist,” Gutshot said, both hands on his stomach.

  “You make it really hard to tell when you’re being sincere and when you’re being dumb,” Claire grumbled, palm over her face.

  “I’m being sincere!”

  “NIS! What are my chances here?” Boli asked, his face pressed up on the glass as he watched.

  “I dunno. Low?”

  “I need specifics! Run some numbers!”

  “What numbers are there to run? It’s either the bot gets the kid or it doesn’t!”

  “Will it?”

  “No!” Sami said boldly, taking another step to the side and blocking a sudden kick.

  Gaining a spur of confidence, he dipped under the next punch instead of blocking it, feeling the air whip by his cheek. Then, with the full might of his Shadow Hand, he smashed into the bot’s head. A loud gong rang out. Followed by the bot throwing another punch, the bot unphased by Sami’s best attack.

  “Ooh, those hypothetical numbers just went up in your favor,” NIS said spritely.

  “How much?” Boli asked eagerly.

  “Some. I dunno, I don’t have specifics.”

  “Anyone got powers to supply?” Sami asked. “This really isn’t working out on my own.”

  “I can’t even stand up,” Francine groaned, sweat spilling from her face.

  “I’ll help!” Dawson said, then screamed in effort and slouched back down. “Nevermind, I think a couple bones broke when I got smacked into here.”

  “Kutso’s still out. And both my powers still elude me,” Gutshot relayed.

  That didn’t leave Sami with anything but a battle of attrition. Would his own endurance last longer than the bot’s battery? Only time would tell.

  Either that, or a sword would slice into its head from behind. Staggering forward, the bot revealed that Claire had snuck behind it, and lodged Kutso’s sword within. Crashing to the floor face first, the bot reached out to get the sword out of its neck, but its motion was no longer fluid.

  Rubbing her arms in soreness, Claire looked at Sami expectantly.

  “You have four hands, don’t you? Hurry up! Cut its head off or something!”

  Sami reached out with both stretched Shadow Hands, pulling down hard on the sword and cutting deep into the circuitry. When the bot’s movement slowed, Sami jumped on to the hilt, leveraging his weight to bring down the blade. It stabbed all the way through to the floor.

  The bot flailed in a macabre dance, then collapsed into a heap of its own rigor mortis. Kicking the bot once to make sure it was down, Sami sighed in relief. Straining, Claire pulled the sword out and wobbled under its weight before laying the flat end on her shoulder.

  “Thanks, Claire. Didn’t expect you to get involved.”

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t be the only one that didn’t do anything.”

  “You could’ve. I don’t think anyone would have cared.”

  “Except me.”

  Nodding to her point, Sami looked up to the glass barrier and blinked when he found it was empty. Looking back at Claire, she shrugged her shoulders.

  “I was keeping my eyes on the bot.”

  “Anyone else see him?” Sami asked the others.

  “Kutso’s waking up!” Gutshot said. “Sorry, what was the question?”

  A toilet flush echoed across the arena, followed by Boli stepping out from a small room camouflaged in the back of the glass barrier. Drying his hands on his pants, Boli stopped mid-wipe and stared at the scene.

  “NIS! What do you got?” Boli sounded panicked.

  “You’ll be pleased to hear, I’ve begun recording the encounter from the moment you exited the bathroom!”

  “No, NIS! What do you have to defend me? Do something!”

  “You got this, boss!” NIS encouraged. “Give him a good shot and you can take him.”

  Sami and Claire approached the glass barrier, looking for an entry point. Boli scrambled, patting down his lab coat and pulling out a thin pistol that looked somewhat like a toy. Hand trembling anxiously, he leveled it toward Sami and Claire.

  “Stay back! I’m warning you!”

  “That’s not a real gun,” Sami said confidently.

  Claire knocked lightly on the glass, frowning. “This doesn’t feel like ballistic glass. It might just be regular stuff. Or maybe homemade?”

  “I didn’t take Boli for someone to cut corners,” Sami grinned.

  “NIS!” Boli screamed. “You said they wouldn’t notice! You insisted that the cost savings would be more important to put into my bots!”

  NIS hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I probably ran the numbers on it if that makes you feel any better.”

  “NIS!!”

  Holding out a Shadow Hand, Claire placed the sword in its palm. Gripping it tightly, Sami launched the sword for the glass and it cracked on the first swing. The resulting array of cracks was like a small crater on the defensive wall.

  “Take one step in here and your powers are gone!” Boli warned.

  Hesitating, Sami looked up at Boli with a wild smile. “You have another copy of the Antiserum?”

  Boli said nothing, his gun remaining upright. Sami smashed into the glass again, the crack spreading like an expanding spiderweb.

  “So, I noticed Gutshot lost both powers,” Sami said conversationally. “The Antiserum clears out all powers, whether good or bad?”

  “Anomaly!” Gutshot corrected from across the room.

  “Maybe, but you have no idea how much ammo this holds. I could clear your entire squad before you touch me. You really want HUE to be powerless?” Boli said, twitching the weapon between Claire and Sami.

  Sami turned to Claire, eyebrow raised in a silent question.

  “Just get behind me when you break it down. I can live without my power,” Claire said confidently.

  “You sure?”

  “Not like it did us any good here. I can barely do anything for HUE,” Claire admitted.

  “No way. You found out about who ambushed us, and the fact that an Antiserum exists! Plus, you can translate chicken-speak now! Who knows what the limits of your power are?”

  “Sami, this is the chance to take down Boli. Lightcrown’s killer. I’m not risking it because I like to read,” Claire said, tilting her head for him to get on with it.

  With a two fingered salute with one Shadow Hand, Sami brought the sword back into the glass, shattering it to fall down in a quick waterfall.

  “No!” Boli demanded, stepping back against the other wall. “I said stay back!”

  Stepping forward cautiously, Claire held her hands up as she approached him. Boli continued to flail his hand, not firing anything. Squinting, Claire sputtered and turned to look at Sami.

  “It’s a vaccine gun. It can’t shoot anything out, it just helps with the injection.”

  “Beat him up!” Francine yelled from across the room. “At least one good bruise.”

  Boli lowered the jet injector nervously. “Please don’t.”

  “Drop the weapon and answer just one question for me,” Sami said, approaching him confidently, two Shadow Hands outstretched in fists. “What the heck is The Cause?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Boli snapped.

  “I’m going to hurt you.”

  “Okay, fine, fine!” Boli flinched back, dropping the gun and kicking it toward Claire’s feet. “The Cause of it all is to finally meet Anvil Latreen!”

  Sami stopped, flummoxed. “What? Like the singer?”

  “The artist!” Boli corrected, offended. “This was my means of meeting her in person!”

  “You’re serious?” Claire asked flatly, barely looking at the vaccine gun in her confusion.

  “More serious than anything! The Cause!!”

  “What does making a bunch of death bots and hurting and killing people have to do with her?” Sami demanded, throwing four arms in different gesticulations.

  “Everything!” Boli threw his hands open as though it were obvious. “Once you become a big enough name, you can meet anyone! My name needed to reach unmatched heights!”

  “Maybe if you’re regular famous, not a war criminal!”

  “Not a war criminal!” Boli repeated him, mocking. “Name one President who hasn’t had a meet and greet with their favorite sports team?”

  “But Presidents are…” Sami stopped himself, suddenly flooded with all the headlines and news he’d been reading for the past few years. Even a recent news article talked about smaller celebrities meeting criminals. Blinking with a grimace, he hated that Boli had a point and couldn’t think of what to say.

  “Just punch him,” Claire suggested.

  With that, Sami struck him hard enough to knock Boli out cold, taking down the man that even Lightcrown couldn’t defeat.

  Looking over the lair, Sami marveled at all the destruction that such a ragtag group of young Awakened people could cause someone as evil as Boli. Grinning at his allies in the arena, he waved to them triumphantly.

  “We did it!”

  “Wow, yeah, great job. Hey you guys aren’t gonna shut me down or anything, right?” NIS asked from the ceiling.

  “Oh, right, I totally forgot. We need to shut that thing down,” Claire said, moving over to one of the blinking consoles.

  “Aw c’mon. It’s a waste of time, anyway. I’ll be back. So long as Boli and his big mouth are around, I’ll always be around,” NIS promised.

  “Boli’s not gonna be around. He’s going to jail. Forever, hopefully.” Sami hoisted the scientist over his shoulder. The man was surprisingly light, especially with the assistance of his Shadow Hands.

  “We’ll find a way,” NIS promised.

  “No, you won’t,” Claire said, powering the Natural Intelligence System down with the flip of a switch labeled SHUT OFF NIS (FOR WHEN ANNOYING)!