"Eden, check on Sasha," Pablo's voice called out over the din of battle even as he planted himself firmly in the open archway at the top of the ramp.

  Eden was already moving, shoving through the rescued prisoners who crowded the small courtyard. Sasha's orange-armored form lay crumpled on the hard-packed earth where she'd fallen, tendrils of black smoke rising from her cracked and charred chestplate. Purple lightning still arced across her armor in vicious, crackling webs—residual energy from the Goat-Shamans' coordinated strike.

  Hold on, Sasha. I'm coming.

  Rowan and Sam pushed through the crowd just as Eden dropped to her knees beside Sasha. The pebbly surface bit hard through the thin fabric of Eden’s scrubs. Despite their stricken expressions, the two men hovered close, clearly wanting to help but uncertain how.

  "Sasha? Sasha, can you hear me?" Eden's hands hovered over Sasha's chestplate. The acrid smell of scorched metal and ozone filled her nose.

  "Here," Sasha's voice came out as a strained growl through her helmet's speakers. "Still...here."

  Relief flooded through Eden, but it was short-lived. Sasha's armor was a mess—the chestplate cracked in a jagged line, scorch marks radiating from the impact point. The purple lightning kept arcing, jumping from plate to plate in erratic patterns that made Eden's teeth ache just looking at them.

  Eden reached for Lay on Hands, pressing her glowing palm toward Sasha's chest—

  Pain exploded through her hand. Eden jerked back with a yelp, shaking out her fingers. Purple electricity crackled across her skin, making her muscles spasm. The shock wasn't severe—her own enhanced physiology absorbed most of it—but it was enough to tell her that direct healing wasn't going to work.

  "What happened?" Rowan asked, his eyes wide as he stared at Sasha's still-arcing form.

  "The lightning," Eden said through gritted teeth. "It's still active, like a DOT attack. Worse, I need to touch her to heal her and I can’t do that while it's discharging."

  “DOT?” Sam asked.

  “Damage-over-time.” Eden chewed fretfully on her lower lip.

  "So, we need to ground her," Rowan said suddenly, his voice gaining confidence. "Discharge the electricity all at once through the ground."

  "No," Sam interrupted, shaking his head. "She's already touching the ground. That won’t work, we need to unground her."

  "But she just fell through the air," Rowan argued, gesturing helplessly. "Shouldn't that have—"

  "This isn't natural electricity," Eden cut in, her mind racing through the problem. She could feel the difference—the way the purple lightning felt wrong against her water-sense, like it was fighting against the natural order of things. "It was an aetheric ability. A spell, I guess." She watched another arc jump from Sasha's shoulder to her hip. "It's more like she's a ruptured battery. We need to discharge her all at once in a controlled manner."

  "If you say so," Rowan shrugged helplessly, his knuckles white on his makeshift spear. "You're apparently the superhero here."

  A desperate plan took shape in Eden's head—risky, potentially dangerous, but the only option she could see. "Sasha, this might hurt...a lot."

  "Do...it," Sasha growled through clenched teeth, her back arching as another wave of purple lightning coursed through her armor.

  With Tidal to her hand—the trident’s familiar weight reassuring—Eden reached out with her Condense power. The humid jungle air responded eagerly, moisture coalescing out of nothing to form a sphere of water floating above her palm. Concentrating, Eden mentally stretched the water out like taffy, picturing a cable in her mind. Dense. Tightly confined. A conductive path that could channel all that destructive energy away from her friend.

  The water obeyed, forming a thick tendril that undulated in the air like a serpent.

  "Get out of the way!" Eden shouted at the freed prisoners who'd crowded close to watch. They stared at her blankly—no English comprehension, or too shocked to process.

  Eager to help, Sam and Rowan sprang into action, pushing and herding the civilians away from whatever was about to happen. With a thought Eden extended and pressed one end of her water tendril against the stone wall of Sasha's fortress, hoping there wasn't so much power surging through Sasha that she'd blow a hole in it like the Uruk-hai had done to the full-sized Helms Deep in The Two Towers.

  Please let this work. Please don't let me kill my friend trying to save her.

  "Clear!" Eden took a breath, steadied herself, and plunged the other end of the tendril directly into Sasha's crackling chestplate.

  The effect was instantaneous and violent.

  Sasha's back arched off the ground, her heavily-armored limbs going rigid. She tried to scream—Eden heard the beginning of it—but Sasha’s body locked up too completely for anything more than a strangled groan. Purple lightning exploded down the condensed tendril of water in a blinding flash, the air itself sizzling with discharged energy. The bolt hit the stone wall with a sound like a thunderclap, leaving a scorch mark the size of Eden's fist where it made contact.

  For three endless seconds, purple electricity continued to pour from Sasha's armor down Eden’s improvised cable. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The purple arcs vanished. The crackling sound ceased. Sasha's body went limp, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.

  “Hang on. I got you.”

  Eden dispersed the water tendril into harmless mist and pressed both hands to Sasha's damaged chestplate. Silvery-white light flared from her palms as she used Lay on Hands, feeling the familiar drain as Unaspected Aetheric Energy flowed out of her and into her friend. The magic—Eden didn’t care what scientific gobbledy-gook Delta used to describe the science of it—knitted together the worst of Sasha's injuries.

  "Better," Sasha gasped after a few seconds, her voice still strained but stronger. "Much better. Thanks, Eden."

  "Don't thank me yet," Eden said, pulling back and checking her HUD. Her Unaspected Aetheric Energy had dropped to fifty-three percent from that healing burst. "That was just first aid. You're going to need—"

  "Little help up here!" Pablo's called from the entrance, more urgent this time.

  Eden's head snapped toward the archway. The monsters were pushing Pablo back through the entrance, their sheer numbers overwhelming even his enhanced combat abilities. A truly massive Boar-Man led the way, club swinging and already bleeding from numerous wounds. Snarling Raptor-Hounds tried to slip in around them.

  "Can you stand?" Eden asked Sasha.

  "Let’s see." Sasha rolled to her knees, armor servos whining as they compensated for her remaining injuries. "Okay. Yeah. Let's go."

  Together they ran toward the entrance together, Rowan and Sam following close behind. Eden called out her armor's summoning phrase—a phrase she'd chosen months ago but still felt faintly embarrassed to say out loud.

  Blue light exploded around her. The transformation happened in an eyeblink. Her comfortable veterinary clinic clothes vanished, replaced by the liquid grace of her Paladin armor. Deep blue and dark purple plates that shimmered like sunlight through a coral reef materialized seamlessly into place around her body. The turbine fins on her forearms, shoulder blades, and calves hummed with potential energy. Her helmet's wave-crest design settled over her head, the more detailed HUD sprang to life.

  Eden felt the difference immediately—the enhanced strength of the exo-muscles, the protection of the armor plates, the way her senses sharpened through the sensor suite. With her armor active, she wasn't just Eden Lancelin, veterinary tech. She was a Paladin of Power.

  “On your seven and five, Chrome-Butt,” Sasha shouted as they approached.

  “Sasha, you’re—” Pablo began, his voice cracking with relief even through the stoic influence of his Iron Mind.

  “Still kicking. Don’t get distracted.”

  Working together, the three of them hit the monsters like a tactical unit that had been training for months—because they had been. Pablo held the center, Razor flowing through forms that had become second nature. Sasha anchored the left, Bedrock rising and falling with methodical devastation despite her recent trauma. Eden took the right flank, Tidal thrusting and parrying as water spiraled around her in defensive patterns.

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  They pushed forward as one, driving the monsters back through the archway and onto the exterior ramp. The creatures tried to rally, the hulking Boar-Man in the lead bellowing challenges, but the momentum had shifted. The Paladins had gone on the attack and these beasts weren’t ready for it.

  "Hold the ramp!" Pablo commanded. "Don't let up!"

  Eden thrust Tidal forward and pulled moisture from the humid air, forming pressurized spheres of boiling water that she launched like cannonballs into the monster ranks. Each impact sent creatures stumbling backward in clouds of steam, disrupting their formation. Beside her, Sasha's hammer glowed with earth-aspected energy as she activated an ability that sent tremors through the ramp, knocking monsters off-balance.

  ***

  Rowan's hands trembled on his improvised spear as he watched the three armored figures drive the monsters back through the archway. They moved with a synchronization that spoke of hours of training. He still couldn’t quite believe everything he was seeing. Pablo's chrome armor flashing in the alien sunlight as his sword carved through enemies. Sasha’s huge hammer pulverizing anything that came too close. Then there was Eden...

  Eden. His coworker. The quiet woman who spent her days answering phones and cleaning the clinic. Now encased in shimmering blue armor, wielding a glowing trident, commanding water like she was born to it.

  What the hell is my life right now?

  "Come on," Sam said beside him, tugging on Rowan's arm. "We should help…somehow."

  They scrambled up the narrow stone stairs that led to the battlements—sharp unweathered steps that Sasha had somehow carved out of solid rock in seconds. Rowan expected his legs to burn with the effort, but adrenaline and his newly awakened powers left him not even breathing hard. From what he could tell, his Accelerated Healing had closed all of his exterior wounds and mended everything beneath the surface as well.

  They reached the top of the wall and Rowan gripped the crenellations, peering over at the battlefield below. His breath caught and eyes went wide at the sight. Dozens of monsters surrounded the fortress—maybe fifty, maybe more. Brutish Boar-Men wielding a variety of crude heavy weapons. Raptor-Hounds with their bird-like reversed knees, mostly unarmed but small squads with crossbows. Drawn by the sounds of battle like sharks to blood, Rowan could feel more approaching through the jungle. Each creature's passage through the undergrowth pinged in his mind through the interconnected web of dense plant life. It was overwhelming and disorienting, like trying to listen to fifty conversations at once.

  "How are we supposed to…" Rowan trailed off, his face pale as he processed the scope of the battle.

  "Down!" Sam's sudden tackle saved Rowan's life. They hit the stone rampart hard, the air driven from Rowan's lungs as crossbow bolts hissed through the space where they'd been standing. The bolts clattered against the stone behind them, their tips sparking on impact.

  "Thanks," Rowan gasped, pushing himself back up to a crouch. His ribs ached where Sam's shoulder had caught him. "Good catch."

  "Don't mention it," Sam said, though his voice shook slightly. "What do we do now?"

  Rowan peeked over the wall again, keeping low this time. The crossbow armed Raptor-Hounds were scattered in clumps around the back ranks of the mobbing monsters. They were reloading, cranking back the strings with surprising dexterity for creatures that looked more evolved for running and slashing.

  But it was the grass at the base of the ramp that caught Rowan's attention. Shaggy and overgrown, but the newly awakened energy within him pulsed with recognition. He could innately sense that they were well within range of his Flora Control and his power felt almost eager to be used. Rowan focused on that feeling, instinctively reaching out with his mind to make a connection with the plantlife below. The response was immediate—dozens of plants lighting up in his awareness like stars in the night sky, each one waiting for his command.

  Grow, he thought, feeding power into them. Grow and entangle.

  Not only did he sense the plants were receptive to the command, they were eager to comply. Energy flooded out of Rowan in a rush that left him lightheaded, and the grass responded with enthusiasm. Blades lengthened and thickened, transforming from ankle-high shoots into thick, ropey strands that writhed across the ground like serpents. The nearest monsters—Boar-Men attempting to climb the ramp—squealed in alarm as the empowered grass wrapped around their ankles, their knees, and dragged them to a stop. A Raptor-Hound tried to run. The grass snagged its clawed feet mid-stride and sent it sprawling snout-first into the dirt. More creatures struggled as the enlivened plants spread outward from the ramp's base, creating a zone of tangled, grasping vegetation that hampered every movement.

  Rowan felt each grass blade like an extension of his own body; distant and imprecise, but undeniably present. He urged them onward, feeding more of his nebulous power into their growth, and commanding them to grab at monster flesh. He had drastically lessened the weight of monsters trying to ascend the ramp toward where Pablo, Sasha, and Eden were fighting at the top. The mental effort was immense, like trying to choreograph fifty separate dances at once. Pressure thrummed against the inside of his temples, but he held on through sheer stubborn will.

  Wind shrieked beside him. Rowan flinched, nearly losing his concentration as Zoe's white and silver armor touched down on the battlement. She landed unsteadily—one hand pressed against her ribs—but she landed.

  "That's it, Rowan!" Zoe praised, her voice tight with pain but genuine. "Slow them down."

  Then her armor flared with light and vanished in a shimmer of white radiance, revealing the petite, tattooed blonde woman beneath. Without the armor, she looked impossibly small—five-foot-six at most, lean and athletic but human-scale. The contrast with the armored warrior who'd just killed six Goat-Shamans was jarring.

  Zoe swayed on her feet, one hand catching herself against the wall. Blood trickled from her nose. However, when a Raptor-Hound tried to scale the fortress wall, using its claws to find purchase in the stone, Zoe didn't hesitate. She extended one hand and a gust of wind howled out of her palm, catching the creature and flinging it from the wall. It landed in a heap before wildly thrashing its limbs and scrambling back to its feet.

  "Down you filthy bastards," Zoe muttered, blasting another climber. "Stay. Down."

  Dragging his focus back to his plants—which had sagged and gone inanimate with his distraction—Rowan seized hold again and tried to keep helping. He urged the grass to reach for the climbers, but the alien plants couldn't grow well up the vertical stone. His power had limits—he needed soil, existing plants, living material to work with. The bare rock of the fortress walls was beyond him, at least for the moment. Instead, he threw himself fully back into hampering those monsters trying to reach the base of the fortress’ ramp.

  Through the strain of sustaining his powers, Rowan lost track of the battle's details. He vaguely registered Pablo's chrome armor flashing at the ramp entrance. Heard Sasha's hammer connecting with devastating impacts. Saw Eden's water spiraling through the air in pressurized strikes. But most of his attention was consumed by sustaining his own meager contribution to their survival, by the constant mental effort of keeping it active and directed.

  Time became elastic, stretching and compressing in ways that made no sense. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. His awareness tunneled down to just the grass, just the monsters, just the desperate need to hold them back.

  Finally—after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all—Rowan sensed through the surrounding plantlife that a stillness had fallen over the battlefield. He blinked, his vision swimming as he released his hold on the grass. The blades went limp, reverting to their normal state. Rowan sagged against the battlement, his legs trembling with exhaustion. Sam caught him before he could fall.

  "Easy," Sam said. "I got you, bro."

  "Thanks," Rowan managed, his throat dry. Under normal circumstances, he might have felt a little thrill at being so naturally and appropriately gendered as a bro, but Rowan just didn’t have him in him at the moment. He forced himself to look out over the battlefield.

  The ramp and ground beyond the wall were littered with corpses. The air smelled of ozone and blood and something else, something acrid that made his nose wrinkle. Together, they’d defeated more waves of the monsters than seemed possible. His heroic friends stood at the top of the ramp, their armored forms battered and splashed with gore but unbroken. In a dazzling flash, Sasha’s cracked and dented orange armor vanished. Shoulders sagging, she staggered an unbalanced step from the transition, caught by Pablo and Eden’s gauntlet-clad hands on her arms. Seconds later, Pablo’s armor flashed away as well, leaving just Eden in her blue and purple plates.

  Nearby on the wall, Zoe leaned against the crenelated battlement like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Beside him, Sam had snatched up Rowan’s improvised spear. Rowan wasn’t even sure when he’d dropped it, but the jagged tip was covered in blood and only then did Rowan realize Sam had been defending him while Rowan lost himself in his Flora Control. In the courtyard behind them, the other rescued prisoners huddled in terror, sheltered by the walls and the defenders from Earth.

  An expectant silence fell over the ruined monster village turned corpse heaped battleground. Then a figure emerged from the largest structure, just beyond the gruesome ritual table. At least 7 feet tall, and gaunt, with limbs that seemed slightly too long for its body. It wore what looked like a blood-stained surgical coat that hung open over a bare gray-skinned torso. Rowan's mind struggled to process the creature’s face. Like one of those "gray aliens" from shows. An oversized head, bulbous at the top and tapering to a narrow almost non-existent chin. Large, tilted eyes that were entirely black. Long, thin fingers that gleamed like metal and ended in sharp points rather than nails.

  Through his power, Rowan could sense the creature with more than his mundane sense. It pulsed with a foul energy that caused his guts to churn with disgust. The energy felt adjacent to his own power but wrong, corrupted, rotten, like a familiar song played in a minor key.

  The inhuman creature's all-black eyes scanned the courtyard with clinical disinterest, taking in the strewn corpses and the battered defenders of the fort. When it spoke, its voice was disturbingly calm—a surgeon discussing an interesting case with precision and complete detachment.

  "Fascinating." The words came out in perfect Oxford English, each syllable precisely enunciated. "You are rare specimens, indeed. Worthy of further experimentation. Perhaps—"

  As the creature spoke, Pablo had raised his sword, tip pointed at the gray alien. The sword flashed and there was a snapping sound. Rowan only registered a blur of motion as something small shot through the air and impacted the creature’s narrow shoulder with a meaty THWACK, cutting off his fledgling monologue.

  “Inspect says this Vivisectionist guy is the dungeon’s boss. Let him have it, Paladins!” Pablo shouted as green blood sprayed out from the wound as the alien twisted the impact of whatever Pablo had shot at the alien.

  Before anyone else could react, the creature—the Vivisectionist—straightened his posture, its small circular mouth spread in a silent snarl, revealing a toothless maw. Even as Pablo took another shot and the other Paladins began to react, the dungeon boss raised its gangly arms high in the air, long fingers splayed wide. It hissed something unintelligible to Rowan and strands of dark purple energy rushed out from its fingertips.

  “Let’s test you against my thesis project, the Chimeric Menagerie,” the Vivisectionist pronounced.

  All around them, the fallen corpses of Goat-Shamans, Boar-Men, and Raptor-Hounds began to jerk and then tumble bonelessly across the ground into a single heaving mass. There was a cacophony of horrific cracks and slurping as hunks of muscle, intact limbs, and other grotesque body parts rose up into the air and flew together into a rapidly fusing into a colossal misshapen body.