Margie’s emotions were on something of a roller coaster.

She would mark getting jumped by a shadow, a stick, and a bunch of fists as a low point.

But less than a minute after they had retreated, Buford and Noodle thundered around the corner with the tall man from Lilly’s group.

Which was a definite high.

Now they had a decision to make. Continue down the hall, drop down a level near the ice rink, and then double back towards the Old Navy, or double back now and risk stepping through a portal they didn’t notice.

The tall man—what was his name again?—Scratched his chin, his eyes scanning over them before flicking to the hall.

“I’m kind of lost on which side to go down. You guys want to flip a coin or something?“

Del frowned. “I think I’d rather double back now. We’ve stepped on plenty of those portals. I know we have because I watched fists and staff come through them. But our feet didn’t slip through when we walked. I think the woman has to activate the portal consciously. So, unless she’s looking at us the moment we step through it, it will be fine.“

She scrunched her face up and eyed the man. “Also, what’s your name?“

“Ned.“ He didn’t seem to be the talkative type, as he immediately turned and started towards the theater.

Margie shrugged, burying her hand in Buford’s fur as she walked.

Fine with her. They couldn’t afford to waste time.

They made it to the steps from the movie theater when the wall began to glow lavender.

“Oh, come on!” Ned groaned. “Give me a fucking break.”

A man stepped through the portal.

Somewhere around 5’4 or 5’5, he grinned up at them as he finished stepping through.

He had light brown skin and curly dark hair cut close to his head, and his golden brown eyes glinted in the dim lights pouring down from the theater.

He wore a loose leather jacket and baggy black sweatpants with tennis shoes.

He looked between the three of them, and his lips spread into a wide smile.

Margie took a step back. It was the kind of grin she’d reserve for a long-lost family member. It stretched his face so wide it was almost painful, and it looked entirely genuine.

“Corrie said you three would make this fun. I’ll admit, one of you is skin and bones,“ he nudged his chin toward Ned. “One looks kind of plain.“ He nodded to Del. “And one of you is an old lady.“ He nodded to Margie, though she felt it wasn’t necessary.

“But you guys fought off that shadowy prick with just the two of you, and now you got those dogs.”

He ran his tongue over his pearly white teeth before eyeing them each in turn. “And from the looks you’re giving me, I can tell this is gonna be fun.”

~<>~<>~

Markus was getting tired of fighting people who ran away.

To be fair, this man was making the correct decision.

He saw Markus coming, his limbs wrapped in an unknown Skill and moving faster than someone his age had any right, and decided he’d rather not square up.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Well, he could applaud the decision, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

He vaulted over a stand of shirts, slamming down on the tile with a crack.

With over half a meter, the crack was literal. Fissures spread through the tile ahead of him, the little lines stopping a few feet away.

That show of force didn’t make the man any more inclined to stop and fight. His eyes widened, and he ran faster.

Markus grumbled under his breath, then pivoted and bolted to the side.

Steven and Lilly were fighting the paint guy. He left them to it and looked for Micheal.

He found him running for his life, a man dressed in a trenchcoat and skinny jeans hot on his tail.

The man’s shadow ran beside him, pumping its arms and legs like a living, breathing thing.

It was a bizarre sight as the shadow turned on occasion and almost vanished completely.

“Never thought I’d get in a fight with the second dimension,” he muttered.

Trenchcoats shadow snatched the quarterstaff from his grip and surged forward. Its black hands oozed over the staff, spreading wide and giving the shadow incredible leverage as it swung.

Markus sucked in a breath. “DROP FLAT, MICHEAL!“ He bellowed.

Simultaneously, he reached out to his new Skill.

Choosing his Threshold Skill had been trickier than the Trait.

One option would have made him hit harder, but not much else. The other would increase his defense by a fair margin.

He’d gone with the more complicated option. Not overly complex, to be fair, but it opened up possibilities. Far more than a simple increase in raw strength could.

Titan Sap

Rare.

Effect: sacrifice a portion of Meter to spread the amber light from your body. The level of your Meter determines the intensity of the effect and the amount invested. Once deployed, the Titans Sap can either solidify, temporarily becoming a solid object that will hang in place.

Or it can soften, transferring a portion of any kinetic force it encounters across its entire surface area.

Cool down: none.

Energy cost: variable.

Range: equal to that of the Titans Advance

Markus reached out to the Skill box in the corner of his vision, which showed a drop of sap falling from a clenched fist.

He didn’t invest much of his Meter, shoving the minimum amount he could get away with into the Skill, which was about 10% of his Meter.

He directed the power towards his feet, then hopped.

It solidified mid-air, the amber rounding itself out before hardening like resin.

Before Markus could come down from his short hop, he slammed both feet back with all his strength.

He hit the barrier and blasted forward, sailing for the quarterstaff like a bullet.

Micheal’s dodge saved him from the first swipe, but the second raced for his back.

Then Markus slammed into the shadow, splattering it in every direction like a firecracker going off in a bowl of Jell-O.

Markus hit the ground and didn’t even feel a twinge of pain as he slammed down.

He tried to grab the staff as he rolled, but an unbroken line of shadow recoiled, reeling back like a fishing line and pulling the weapon with it.

Markus pushed, springing to his feet in one motion.

“Who the fuck–“ Trenchcoat cut off as Markus charged him.

The man, who Markus would put in his late teens or early 20s at the oldest, Grew red in the face. Hate pooled in his eyes as he clenched his fists.

He didn’t back up. Instead, he started running towards Markus.

Darkness rolled to his hands and began to pulse. The bits of shadow strewn across the room pulsed with it.

“I’m gonna teach you a fucking lesson, old man. You’re going to rue the day you crossed paths with Carl–“

Markus surged forward.

He ducked under the man’s hasty punch and drove a fist into his face.

And to his utter shock, Carl didn’t blast backward across the room. He slid a few feet back before his shadow pulled him to a stop.

He rubbed a hand across his cheek, now covered in a black shadow with hairline cracks running through it.

Markus sighed. Well, maybe he could still make it a quick fight.