Miguel had expected a great many things from the day.

Some entertainment, some exercise. Some free experience.

And if he was really lucky, a good fight.

The people who moped around and whined at the System’s arrival were fools. It had presented them with an opportunity to start fresh. To do whatever they wanted if they could do it.

Not if someone said they could or if they were born rich enough to do it.

If you personally had the will and the skill to get it done, you could do it.

And the world itself rewarded you for it.

Miguel had not been a violent man before the System. He hadn’t been in so much as a fistfight.

But on that first night, a man tried to take advantage of the chaos. He tried to rob him, and Miguel defended himself.

When it was all said and done, the man was dead, and Miguel was left with two things.

A Class and a revelation.

He had enjoyed it.

It had been scary at first. A little overwhelming. But then the adrenaline faded, and elation took its place.

Elation that only grew stronger as he leveled up, his body reforging itself as he watched.

So when they moved to take over the mall, he’d been hoping for that challenge. That struggle to get his blood pumping and his levels soaring.

He hadn’t been expecting to lose.

The woman before him dodged constantly. Attacks that had tripped and snared people a dozen times before missed her, and the few hits he managed to land weren’t effective.

She pushed through his burning paint, slipped herself free of her shoes when they got stuck. And when he gave up on trying to wing her with a cheap shot and just kicked, she returned the hit like a speeding truck.

His face throbbed with pain, and his nose had to be broken.

Miguel wanted a challenge. He didn’t want to lose.

So, when Corrie spoke through his earbud, he was filled with unbelievable frustration, relief, and excitement.

“Fall back. I’ve had to pull Raph out, and I’m pulling Carl in a second. Get to a portal big enough and get the hell out. We’ll come at them later.”

“What about Wester?“ Miguel cut himself off as the woman closed in again.

He looked to the side and saw the old man booking it across the store at a terrifying speed, heading right for him.

It was definitely time to go.

Miguel touched one hand to blue and another to green. He spun in place, showering an arc of paint in all directions.

The woman skidded to a stop.

She had forced him to use an absurd amount of his paint and energy, his reserves were low, and his limbs felt heavy with exhaustion. He was close to tapped out.

Before the woman could find a way through his paint, he sprayed blue and skated along it, putting distance between them.

Frustration at this loss, excitement at the fight. And even more excited about the next one.

He’d only been forced to run away once. Now he was going to get to have that experience again.

He got to plan and theorize. And when they met again, he got to see his efforts rewarded.

Both by victory, and then the System.

The ground ahead of him glowed lavender, and Miguel gladly dropped through.

He could hardly wait for round two.

~<>~<>~

Micheal had never considered if he was good or bad at handling pain. It just wasn’t something you thought of in your day-to-day life, not unless you got seriously injured.

Since the System, he had plenty of chances to consider that question.

And he’d conclude that he did not, in fact, handle pain very well.

It ate at his mind, threatening to pull his attention away at a crucial moment.

So it was with some surprise that he found his arms and hand throbbing with pain to ground him.

It gave him something to focus on and something to look forward to.

As Doris hurtled towards Wester like an arrow, Micheal felt a surge of vindictive satisfaction.

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The bold confidence Wester had shown when he realized they could both be hurt by fire had vanished.

The man frantically hurled attacks at Doris, quick fire blasts, wider arcs, and thick columns that seemed to exhaust him.

The smaller blast Doris tanked outright, letting them wash over her like gusts of wind.

Her coat ignited, but she didn’t seem to care. The bigger blasts she tried to dodge or partially block with a nearby table or chair, and Micheal could feel the heat from where he stood.

Wester swept his arm down to the side, sending a pillar of flame blasting away from him. The fire seemed to come from his entire body instead of his hands.

That increased the amount of flame, but judging by how the man stumbled, it also increased the drain.

Doris jumped the pillar. She grimaced, and from over ten feet away, Micheal needed to shield his face from the heat.

If Doris didn’t have her Skill running, even being close to that attack would crisp her skin.

When Wester saw the pillar fail to kill her, he started back peddling.

A portal on the opposite end of the food court opened, and a man shouted through. “Hurry up, Wester. We’re bailing!” Wester hurled a few more attacks and started for the portal.

Micheal narrowed his eyes as his arms burned with pain.

Oh no, you don’t.

Micheal reached out and seized his taunt. He sucked in a breath and screamed.

*“Look at me!“*

He ran to the side as he spoke, making sure he was in Wester's vision.

Wester spun to face Micheal, angling his run toward him.

He threw a fireball before freezing and shaking off the Skill.

But it was enough. Doris threw herself in the way, tanking in the fireball on her shoulder and barreling into Wester like a runaway train.

The man went down, and she followed him to the ground, her shirt and jacket burning to her shoulders. She slammed a punch down and then another.

Fire began to gather underneath her, the temperature in the room surging.

Doris drew her fist back and slammed it down with a shout.

The impact landed with a wet crunch that echoed across the room.

It seemed to reverberate in Micheal, that crunch bouncing from one ear to the other.

The anger and focus from a moment before vanished, and he gagged.

He just helped kill someone.

The man deserved it. They had killed somewhere around a dozen people. Likely more. But as Doris climbed to her feet, the sight of Wester’s body sickened Micheal.

*Ding! Well, well, well, Damsel, it looks like you weren’t the one in distress.*

*For killing Wester blank, you have gained experience. Split with nearby allies.*

Micheal sucked in a breath through his teeth as his stomach clenched.

The System spoke again, its voice far gentler than before. “*Dwell on it later, Damsel. When you can truly devote time to it.”*

The System’s words, totally lacking the mocking edge he’d come to expect, shocked him from his recovery. Its voice had been… gentle.

Doris stripped off her coat and shirt as they continued to burn.

The woman had several more burns across her arms and chest, but nothing like what she should’ve had.

Micheal considered offering her his shirt, but she wore a sports bra. She’d be fine.

Plus, he really, really did not want to pull his shirt over his injured arms.

“You good?“ He asked.

She nodded. “been better. No, less singed. But I’ll live.“ She was wincing in pain, but she seemed…unconcerned about killing Wester.

It frightened Micheal.

Micheal's vision slid to the corner of his vision. Oh, Thank You, Heroes was glowing slightly.

She had taken that fireball for him at the end.

Micheal pointed to her and grinned, forcing the emotions down and deliberately not looking at the body.

“Thank you, hero.“ She blinked at him

“I think heroes too strong of a word-“ she cut off as blue light surged into her, wrapping around her like a blanket.

An Augment he hadn’t gotten the chance to use yet kicked in.

Her burns lessened, the blue light scrubbing away until her skin faded from an angry red to a healthy tan.

He typically used his Buffs before they got into a fight or on one of his friends when they saved him from danger.

They didn’t usually get hurt in the process, so the Augment didn’t have a chance to trigger.

With some surprise, Micheal noticed that the healing focused on her shoulder. It healed the rest of her somewhat, but the mild burn she’d gotten while saving him vanished altogether.

The Augment specified that it healed heroes injured while rescuing him. It seemed it still affected the other injuries but to a lesser extent.

Good to know.

Micheal shoved down the pain the best he could and turned to the escalators.

“We’ve got to get to the others. They’re still fighting. If we –“ he cut off as his phone rang.

He answered it immediately.

Markus’s familiar voice greeted him, and he sighed in relief. “We’re done at the Old Navy. They ran.”

“We’re done too,” Micheal cut in.

He didn’t glance back at Wester.

“Margie, Del, and Lily’s friend Ned are safe, too,” Markus added. “No word from Steven yet.”

Before Micheal could begin to panic at that, his phone beeped.

He glanced at it, and his heart soared.

Steven.

“Steven’s calling.”

He hung up and answered the new call. “Where are you? Are you all right?“

“I’m okay.“ Steven grunted. “I think I’m in the office section of the mall. Once Corrie started pulling the others from the fight, I booked it. I didn’t wanna risk all of them jumping me while I was alone in a room full of portals.”

“Is everyone safe?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

Steven sighed in relief. “Let’s head to the parking lot then. I need a fucking nap.”

Micheal sighed in relief. His arms throbbed, his hand felt like he’d tried to grab a hot coal, and his mind kept replaying a wet crunch over and over.

A nap sounded wonderful.