Steven and the others reached the Old Navy at the same time as Markus and the short woman from Lilly’s group.

Lilly waved. “Doris, meet Steven and Michael, Steven and Michael, Doris.“

Doris opened her mouth, and Steven‘s gaze flicked to the handful of cookies she was currently munching on.

The hell?

“Margie and Del are still out? The Chili’s is close. They should be here by now.”

He glanced at Lilly. “Any word from your other friend?”

“Ned hasn’t responded since I told him to meet us here.”

Steven sighed and glanced around. The Old Navy was a decent size, with two walls running through the middle of the store with some changing rooms between them.

Micheal nudged the closest manakin before speaking, giving the thing a suspicious look. “Should we go look for them or-“ The wall next to them glowed lavender, and a ball of red flew out

If Steven hadn’t been so tense he was ready to snap in half, the attack would’ve landed.

Instead, his shield slapped into the ball and shoved it back through the portal. There was a crash and a cry, and then more things started to glow lavender.

A shadow darted at him from the right, carrying a bottle of red in its hand.

Is that paint?

From his left, a blast of fire flashed for Michael.

More attacks, more noises.

Steven sucked in a breath as his Class let out a single, resonant pulse through his head.

His Tower Shield began forming behind him as he snapped a Hand Shield to the left, deflecting the flames aimed at Michael.

He sent another Hand Shield at the shadow, aiming for the paint in its grasp.

Something crashed into the tower shield as it formed, but he didn’t pay it any mind.

Micheal yelled, and a familiar surge of blue crashed into Steven.

His focus sharpened even further.

Markus and Lilly rushed to his left, fighting someone he couldn’t see. Meanwhile, the shadow raced for Doris, trying to get close to her with the paint.

Steven didn’t want to know what the paint did. It was safe to assume it wouldn’t be wholesome.

He started hurling shields at it, calling and pushing them one after another.

The shadow bobbed and weaved, slipping around the shield like a dancer.

When it was within five feet of Doris, it struck, its two-dimensional hand writhing off the ground for a breath before snapping back down like a whip.

The green paint hit, spraying the floor and getting onto Doris’s legs.

She tried to jump back but was too slow. Her feet stuck to the tile, and she overbalanced. She windmilled her arms, and Steven threw a shield out for her to grab.

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Steven spun. Markus was fighting the man who tried to ambush them earlier.

He ran him down, amber light rolling over his body.

The guy wasn’t a complete idiot since he didn’t even try to step up against the old man. He booked it through the store, hurling fire blasts over his shoulder.

Markus grunted and hissed as the flames licked at him. The hits that missed igniting hoodies and jeans.

Lilly fought with a handsome man in a paint-stained white T-shirt tied at his stomach and a loose pair of jeans.

He hurled splashes of paint at Lilly, and when a bit of red touched her arm, she hissed and danced back.

Making a snap decision, Steven ran for Lilly.

Paint guy saw him coming, and his smile widened. His hand darted to his shirt, running through a section of blue paint before flicking to the floor. Paint sprayed, and the man jumped to the side.

When his shoes hit the paint, they kept going, sliding across the floor like a figure skater.

Steven growled and ran after him.

~<>~<>~

Micheal had a bad feeling. That could be explained by the fact that he was in a fight with murderers. But beyond the simple mortal terror, something was itching at him.

The way this group fought, all these hit-and-run tactics and ranged harass.

They had no front line. So far, none of them were acting like they could take a serious hit, but if that were the case, how have they won so many fights?

Oh, hit and run were good, but what if someone came at them before they were prepared? Or they got into a tough Scenario?

If Buford couldn’t soak s the hits he had, some of them would’ve died.

Maybe this group had just gotten lucky, but considering they’d been seeking out fights, it struck Micheal as wrong.

They were a bunch of glass cannons.

But, if they were a bunch of cannons, then the lone member of his group off to the side was probably about to die.

Micheal threw himself forward into a roll just in time to avoid a quarterstaff swinging at his head.

He came up to his feet to find a man a little taller than him, with tan skin and short brown hair.

He was wearing a black trenchcoat, of all things, with a dark T-shirt and tight jeans underneath.

Micheal didn’t tend to notice footwear, but the man’s calf-high combat boots kind of stood out.

“What kind of mall ninja bullshit?“

Micheal didn’t finish the question before the man’s face turned red.

Micheal dodged side, the quarterstaff narrowly missing his ribs.

The guy was cradling one arm against his side, but despite only using one hand, the quarterstaff lashed out like it barely weighed anything.

Micheal slipped around, avoiding the quarterstaff where he could and lessening the impact when he couldn’t.

Even those glancing hits lit up with arcs of pain that quickly turned into throbbing aches.

The man’s face hardened, and he stomped his foot.

Suddenly Michael’s own foot froze. He looked down, just for an instant, and saw the man's shadow wrapped around his foot.

“Shit.“

Micheal dropped flat, a swing that would’ve broken his skull, whizzing over his head.

“Steven!“ He shouted.

Immediately a shield appeared and slammed into the man’s face. He staggered, but his shadow didn’t.

Micheal kicked at it with all the desperate strength he could muster.

And while he didn’t have any Skills to enhance him, he had passed through two thresholds.

His sneakers smacked into the shadow with all his strength behind them.

The shadow's grip tore free, and Micheal scrambled to his feet at the same moment the mall ninja recovered.

They stared at each other for a second, the quarterstaff and shadow ready to strike.

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears.

The man tensed, his shadow writhed, and Micheal turned and ran.