Sarika looked out the window, watching orange streetlights pass by overhead as the convoy of cars cruised down a county freeway, their destination none other than Vyse. She then winced as the girl who reminded her of water used her healing Talent to alleviate some of the pain caused by the chemical burns.

“Jeez, what did you do?” Water mumbled as she put her healing skills into overdrive to patch up the charred skin.

“Violated a few conventions,” Sarika mumbled just as quietly in response, still trying to process everything that happened and everything still to come.

The peanut table caught her up to speed. Gorillas formed a huge (presumably magic) formation of a zero and one. Sarika kept her face neutral when she first heard the news, but internally, she knew that Holloway had stolen it from her research. Life was 0, death was 1. To overcome it, you had to get rid of both the 0 and the 1 to make a 2. Sarika never found a use in making a 2, but Holloway must’ve. And considering the size of the 0 and 1, it was very well possible that the entire world was in danger of becoming a 2.

The driver - apparently working for the secret service of El Marcos - spoke a different language into the microphone connected to his ear piece, then stepped on the gas. “The vanguard has engaged Vyse’s defenses,” he informed the group. “Resistance is heavy.”

As if to emphasize that point, Sarika heard the whoosh of missile strikes and the shockwaves from distant detonations.

Then they arrived at Vyse proper. The sight actually made Sarika gasp; as the convoy headed down the winding road around the dorms, flames illuminated the entire campus. A raging inferno covered her own dorm - every dorm, for that matter, every building - in angry flames that seemed to spread everywhere. Sarika could only watch as the roof of her dorm collapsed in on itself.

She spent over a year here on this campus and in that dorm; now, she watched it burn away in front of her eyes. Only one thought crossed her mind - she could’ve done so much more with that time. She was once content with the world burning as long as her sister was there with her, but now, the sight of the flames just disgusted her.

Water noticed the look in her eyes. “Are you afraid?”

“I’m afraid,” Sarika admitted. “But I’m also angry.”

The car peeled to a stop along with others behind a makeshift barricade. El Marcos soldiers, joined by a few students with Talents, fired bullets and physic powers into the darkness and flames. Beyond the barrier, across a large field pockmarked with explosions and corpses, stood the primary building of the campus, a small tower heavily defended by ninjas and automatic weaponry.

Sarika stepped out of the car, surprised at how healthy she felt again. Of course, she was still relatively hurt and injured compared to, well, the usual, but she felt like could go for another round or two. Unfortunately, leading the small rag-tag group across this no-man’s-land was too tall of a task, even for her.

But maybe they could all lead it together? Sarika looked around for the person in charge and found a stout man in military fatigues surrounded by soldiers. He held a pair of binoculars to his eyes as he surveyed the battlefield.

Several soldiers flinched as an enemy Talent exploded nearby; Sarika kept walking. She stopped and frowned when she saw the leader’s assistant, a familiar blonde girl.

“Edith,” Sarika greeted, her voice on edge.

Edith took her eyes off the battlefield and side-eyed Sarika. Sarika felt incensed, since this girl was the source of all of Ruta’s troubles. Why hadn’t Sarika done anything to help Ruta before this? But then she realized Edith only side-eyed her because she couldn’t meet her gaze. What seemed like a hue of red shame covered Edith’s face.

“I’m sorry,” was all Edith could offer.

Sarika gave her one last look, then joined her in surveying the battlefield. “Say that to Ruta,” she mumbled.

Water arrived next to the trio. “President Garcia, reinforcements have arrived.”

Garcia smiled. “Excellent. Right on time.”

“Reinforcements?” Sarika repeated, then saw several eighteen-wheelers arrive behind them. Actually, several didn't do it justice; an entire fleet of trucks arrived. In unison, all their trailer doors opened, and out poured - well, everyone.

Hundreds, if not thousands of people converged behind the barricade, all of them armed with rifles, clubs, or merely determination. More of them carried supplies ranging from food to bandages. A few even brought speakers in lieu of Napoleonic-era battle fifes.

“Who are these people?” Sarika asked in disbelief at the sight of people before her.

“The entire county,” Wharton answered, his bubble-tank rumbling into view. In the plastic tubing that he could stick his arms inside in order to interact with the outside world, he held a heavily-bandaged Bass.

“We heard BubbleBoy27's speech and came to save Ruta!” a shotgun-toting farmer announced.

“We put all our hopes and dreams onto her shoulders,” a fireman yelled. “Now it’s time for her to put all her hope onto ours!”

Sarika rubbed her head. Never before could she have ever imagined herself standing among a sea of people stretching as far as the eye could see. People from all walks of life had arrived, from every class, from every life story, all merged as one, no boundaries, just humanity. And Sarika realized she was very much a part of that mass of people.

“DISPERSE!”

Sarika looked back and heard a familiar voice calling out through a loudspeaker from the other side of no-man’s-land.

“DISPERSE OR BE FIRED UPON!”

Garcia and Wharton nodded at each other, then looked at Sarika. “I’ve heard rumors of your talents,” Garcia told her. He gestured at a nearby truck with a white trailer. “Please, I’d like to see.”

Sarika understood. As the crowd cheered and Edith gave a knowing nod (and the soldiers laid down covering fire) Sarika climbed to the top of the nearest truck. The truck driver tooted the horn, giving the enemy their answer.

And then they were off, the truck smashing right through the barrier. Sarika laid on top of the truck, keeping herself flat as the gunfire intensified. And then, she slid her hand across the top of the trailer, the white color stolen as it transformed into smoke. No toxic gases this time; just a smokescreen that quickly wafted over and enveloped all of no man’s land.

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And into that smoke charged the entire population of the county. Wharton in his tank led the way, Garcia and his bodyguards alongside him. Through occasional openings in the smoke, Sarika watched them move past, this rush of people, all of them united in belief in themselves.

Ready to rescue her friend, her school, and this whole mass of people, Sarika jumped down onto the dirt, following alongside him. The ninjas on the other side fired blindly into the smoke; they caught a few lucky hits. Sarika swallowed whenever somebody near went down with a cry, or perhaps the ones that didn’t cry out were scarier. She almost stopped to help her fallen comrades once, but Water and the other medics told her to keep going; this was their job, Sarika could trust in them.

Sarika collected herself and kept going, charging through the smoke. The gunfire and sounds of melee grew closer; Sarika’s heartbeat picked up with every step. And then, she burst out of the white fog, leaping over a small concrete boundary and into a courtyard outside the entrance to the school wing, surrounded by extended wings of the building on either side. Up ahead of her, her allies had already pushed beyond the ninja’s first barrier; she saw Wharton fire several rockets into a group of ninjas hiding out behind an overturned van.

Sarika moved further into the fray, arriving into a grand melee between gorilla-ninjas and county citizens. A few ninjas came her way, but Sarika was a woman on a mission; she dispatched each one easily, quick strikes knocking them to the ground. Up ahead, she heard citizens crying out as a powerful force moved her way.

That’s exactly what Sarika wanted. Her destination was to find that familiar voice, since she really couldn’t believe who it belonged to.

The sea of people fighting in front of them parted; Connolly tossed a cashier to the ground, then saw Sarika standing before him.

“So, you didn’t take heed of my warning,” Connolly called out, ninjas and citizens fighting on either side of them. “I told you to seek me out.”

Sarika frowned. He had an arrogant tone in his voice; well, the Connolly she knew sounded a little arrogant too, but this one relished in its arrogance; her Connolly was much more cool about it.

“You disappeared,” Sarika said back.

Connolly shrugged. “We’ll all disappear, sooner rather than later. Good riddance. I never did like teaching anyway.”

That confirmed it for Sarika. “Mr. Connolly, this isn’t you. You loved your students.”

Connolly laughed. “I only took that job because my handlers assigned me there to monitor Holloway. I couldn’t wait for the assignment to be over. In fact-” he gestured to the fighting mobs. “I’m helping it finish right now.”

“Help us finish it,” Sarika protested. “This isn’t the real you. You’re being controlled.” Her breathing by now came out raggedly; she felt overwhelmed by the scenery of combat all around her.

Sarika suddenly felt the air go out of lungs. Her legs buckled and she collapsed to her knees. She could physically see the air drift out of her mouth, Connolly taking a deep breath.

My air, Sarika realized. He’s stealing my air.

Sarika couldn’t let it end like this. She slid a hand across the dirt, stealing its brown, firing sharp sticks out of her other hand. Connolly simply deflected them with a whistle, using his Talent to manipulate the air around them. Sarika attempted to stand back up, but Connolly’s breathing picked up, choking more air out of Sarika. The air had a stale familiarity around it that reminded Sarika of Holloway’s office.

Connolly suddenly darted his eyes right. A pair of scissors came flying towards him; Connolly used a sharp whistle to knock it away. Then an entire fleet came; Connolly jumped backwards, letting loose another round of whistling to protect himself. But this broke his chokehold on Sarika, who gasped for breath and realized his weakness.

She stood back, keeping herself calm and composed. He stole her breath right when her breathing grew ragged; if she kept her breathing steady, then he wouldn’t be able to steal it. As Connolly dealt with more scissors, Sarika glanced over and saw Edith firing them while standing on top of a school bus, flames and fighting down below her. The two made eye contact for a brief moment, a look of understanding passing between them.

Two gorilla-ninjas climbed to the top of the bus, forcing Edith’s attention back to them. Connolly wiped his mouth, ready to finish things with Sarika, but she was already on him, a wooden gauntlet around her fist. She punched his stomach as hard as he could; the punch knocked the wind out of him.

Sarika then backfisted him, then delivered another uppercut. Connolly stepped further backwards, nearly toppling over as he arrived at a set of stairs going upwards to the front entrance of a school wing. Sarika kept up the pressure, ducking down to punch him in the knee while also stealing more brown colors to create another gauntlet on her other hand.

She fought her way upwards, forcing Connolly back onto the landing at the top of the stairs, glass doors leading into the school behind him. By now, Connolly had collected his own breathing, and Sarika realized too late that he could do things beyond psychic powers. Connolly caught her fist and swung her around; when he let go, Sarika slammed through the glass, stumbling to the linoleum floor inside the wing’s lobby.

She raised her head and saw the fight had already spread here, with citizens climbing through windows to engage dug-in ninjas. Then Connolly kicked her across the stomach; Sarika coughed, but rolled away to give herself enough space to quickly calm down. All the punches and the collision through the glass destroyed her wooden gauntlets; she stood with hands raised in a boxer’s pose, ready as Connolly advanced on her.

Connolly expected her to charge; instead, Sarika slipped away, taking stock of the lobby. The fighting inside the lobby swirled around several open columns painted blue, the school’s official colors.

Connolly caught her by the hair and slammed her into a column, cracks appearing from the impact. Sarika slid a hand across the blue, shooting water out of her other hand. Connolly ignored it, since water was water and Sarika couldn’t exactly shoot it that hard. Sarika dodged a punch, but several more found her face and stomach. She bit her lip to keep her breathing calm, but Connolly appeared far more calm and confident than she did. And it’s not like he had spent the evening climbing out of an eel pit and fighting an eel-man, either.

Connolly lowered his shoulder and slammed it right through Sarika’s arms protecting herself; the cracks in the column deepened. Sarika ignored the pain and exhaustion because she had him right where she wanted him. She put a foot against the column and then propelled herself forward, tackling a surprised Connolly. She forced him all the way back into another column; he tried to free his hands, but Sarika defeated his attempts then slapped a hand against the blue column, the other against his wrist.

As she stole the blue color, blue ice emerged out of her other hand, freezing Connolly’s wrist against the column. When Connolly tried to use the other hand, Sarika used her free hand to palm strike him in the face; she then grasped his face as the blue color continued to drain out of the column.

Blue gas emerged out of her palm; Connolly’s eyes widened at the sight of the Blue Cross chemical weapon.

“I’m using this to purge the bad air out of your lungs,” Sarika warned him. “The air you’re breathing at me is just as stale as the one in Holloway’s office. He must be using it to control you.”

Connolly protested, using his unfrozen hand to beat against Sarika’s side, trying to push her away, but she held firm and strong, keeping steady. Connolly’s beating subsided as the gas entered his respiratory system. His eyes glazed over and tears streamed down his face.

Then he collected himself. He looked down at Sarika with his old set of eyes. Then he immediately coughed up a lung; Sarika’s eyes widened as she saw stale air visibly depart via Connolly’s nostrils.

Connolly beat his own chest with his free hand, coughing up the last of the poison. He then took one long sigh and smiled at Sarika.

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing a student go so far to do something she believes in.”

“You sound like a teacher, alright,” Sarika mumbled. With the old Connolly back, she unfroze his hand. He grimaced and rubbed his wrist, needing another moment to wait out a second round of coughing.

“ was either affected by a mind-controlling manipulation of my own breathing power, or I wasn’t,” Connolly reflected. “Holloway turned that Isn't into an Is.”

Sarika scratched his head. “Does that even make sense?”

“It makes sense to him. And that’s all that matters.”

Sarika looked around the lobby. Most of the ninjas retreated as more citizens arrived inside the lobby. Wharton’s bubble tank broke down the entire front wall, Garcia and Edith following alongside him.

“Where can we find him?” Sarika asked.

Connolly gestured toward a descending staircase at the back of the lobby. “Down below.”