I don't wait for an answer. No time. Lenny's still scrambling to pull himself together, his glowing veins pulsing brighter as he throws up another angled barrier, boxing Soot in tighter. And Bash--Bash is still moving through the smoke like a wrecking ball, massive arms swinging wide, slicing through the fog, forcing Soot to duck and weave between industrial shelves and toppled crates. His footsteps hit the ground with deep, shuddering thuds, but I notice something weird.

He's not going all out.

I clock it right as he barrels past a stack of chemical drums--huge metal cylinders with hazard symbols plastered across the sides--and instead of crashing through them, he swerves. Clumsy, but careful. His foot drags wide, throwing him off-balance for half a second, but he catches himself and keeps charging. It's subtle, almost like instinct, but it's there.

He's holding back... Not because of me. Not because of Soot. Because of what's in this warehouse. Whatever he's juiced up on might make him dense as hell, but even Bash doesn't want to be the guy who blows the whole place sky-high or throws acid on himself. Good. I can use that.

I dart forward, weaving through the swirling fog, staying low as Lenny snaps another barrier into place just above my head. His walls are sharp-edged, gleaming that same eerie cyan-blue, but I'm getting a rhythm now--there's a half-second delay when he's distracted, and that's my opening.

I cut left, weaving my head down like a bobbing duck, and pop up right next to him.

"Shit--" Lenny whirls, trying to throw up another barrier between us, but I'm already too close. I slam my gauntlet into his ribs, hitting the left button. A thin spray of watered-down pig's blood shoots out, turning into a cloud of particles that outlines his upper body as it clings to him like cling-wrap.

He stumbles backward, swiping at the blood. "What the--what the hell is this?!"

I ignore him, already pulling back, my blood sense kicking in. Lenny lights up in my mind now--a jagged outline, pulsing where the blood sticks to his skin. Through the fog, he's crystal clear.

One down.

I pivot, dropping into a sprint, the gauntlet still slick with blood as I duck behind a stack of crates. Bash's thudding footsteps echo nearby--closer than I want--and I catch a glimpse of his silhouette through the smoke. Still focused on Soot, still moving fast. Soot's darting between shelves, hurling another fireworks smoke bomb into the open. It pops with a dull pfft, releasing thick white smoke that spills out, mingling with the gray haze.

Bash lunges forward, aiming a wide swing at Soot, but Soot ducks under a shelf, sneaking between rows, crawling across the floor in a practiced move. The swing misses, and Bash's fist slams into a metal support beam instead, making the entire structure shudder.

I take my chance. I sprint forward, closing the distance. Bash's back is massive, broad muscles flexing under his sweat-soaked tank top. I leap, grabbing onto his shoulder for leverage, and slam my gauntlet against his back, spraying more pig's blood.

The blood splatters across his shirt in a thin mist, quickly soaking it red-brown, spilling out like tie-dye into the fabric.

Bash stiffens, and I barely have time to jump back before he spins around, knocking over a shelf of chemical canisters in the process. They clatter to the ground but don't break--thank G-d--but now his eyes are on me, narrowed and burning.

"You again," he growls, his voice like gravel.

I backpedal, trying to keep distance, my gauntlet still raised. "Yeah, funny seeing you here. Didn't peg you for the warehouse type."

His grin is sharp and mean, blood still dripping down his shoulder. "Was hoping some day I could see what you'd got. Annoying that it's now."

"Maybe pick somewhere without flammable chemicals next time," I taunt.

Bash lunges forward, but I dart away, slipping behind another stack of crates. He follows, heavy footsteps echoing through the fog, but now I've got both of them tagged. My blood sense lights up Lenny and Bash like warning beacons in my head--two glowing outlines moving through the dense haze. "Soot--I've got eyes!" I bellow, hoping they'll understand, that my reputation precedes me or that they just sort of get the picture.

There's a beat, then the smoke shifts, like someone flipped a switch.

Soot dumps everything.

Thick, dark clouds pour out, so dense it almost feels solid. The smoke floods the entire area, rolling in waves, blanketing everything. I lose sight of the shelves, the crates, the scattered debris--it's all just swirling gray now, smelling like burning cardboard, plastic, and paper, with only a hint of wood and leaves. Smoke leaks out from Soot's fingertips and under their hoodie in deep, swirling plumes, wrenching control of the battlefield away from the terrible twosome. Now, nobody can see each other.

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But I can still see them.

Lenny panics first. "What the--? I can't see--" His voice echoes somewhere to my left, barriers snapping up wildly, cutting through the smoke in jagged lines, but he's swinging blind now.

Bash doesn't flinch. He's still coming for me, but slower now, more cautious, each step calculated. I grin under my helmet.

Now the fight's on my terms.

The smoke swells around me--dense, heavy, thick enough that I can barely see my hand in front of my face. Even with Gossamer's filters built into my helmet, tiny little things scrapped from cloth masks - how polite of her, it's almost like she knew Soot was going to show up eventually - it's a struggle to breathe. Every inhale feels like I'm sucking through a clogged straw, and the smoke stings my eyes even through the visor. Soot is going all in, pumping the space full of dense fog, making it a nightmare for everyone else.

Except them.

They move like they were born in it--silent, weightless, flowing with the smoke instead of fighting against it. I catch flashes of their silhouette as they duck behind a toppled metal shelf, their body wrapped in the swirling haze like it's armor. The only reason I can keep track of anything is the blood sense. Thin, glowing traces stretch out in my mind, mapping the positions--Bash's massive, dense form pulsing like a beacon, Lenny a jittery, spiky outline further back, both of them marked with the pig's blood I sprayed.

Bash stomps forward, coughing hard as he swats at the smoke with his arms, trying to avoid turning this place into a bomb or pissing off his employers. But that sort of caution is working against him, and Soot knows it.

Soot flicks their wrist, releasing another burst of pepper spray into the cloud, adding a nasty bite to the air. I feel it sear into my throat, even through the filters, and I cough, hard, forcing it down. Bash? He gets the full brunt of it. His deep, raspy coughs echo through the smoke, followed by the sound of his boot smashing into a metal shelf in frustration.

"Goddamn--" he sputters, voice hoarse.

I duck behind a stack of crates, glancing up as a wave of the smoke starts to thin out--only to see one of Lenny's forcefield panels sweeping through the fog like a giant, slow-moving fan. He's using his barriers like air brooms, pushing the smoke away, trying to clear a pocket for Bash. I watch as the swirling haze parts in front of Bash, giving him a clear line of sight--at least until Soot lobs a smoke bomb right into the open space, refilling it with choking fog.

"Persistent little shits," Lenny mutters somewhere behind me, and I see another forcefield slide into place, cutting off part of the smoke again.

The fog thickens around me, swirling in these uneven, dense clumps, and I can hear the voices cutting through the static--Lenny's panicked swearing, Bash's hoarse coughs, and now... footsteps. Fast. Heavy. From the far end of the warehouse.

"Capes in the smoke--moving in now! Keep your mouth covered!" a voice crackles through Lenny's walkie-talkie, and my stomach drops. Security. At least three by the sound of the centipedesque footsteps, close enough that I can hear the rubber soles squeaking against the concrete.

"Shit," I hiss under my breath, glancing at the shifting fog. I can still see Lenny and Bash through my blood sense--their glowing outlines like beacons in my mind--but the guards? I'm flying blind. I haven't tagged them, haven't even seen them yet, and I'm not about to spray more blood into the air - I'm not sure what will happen with the smoke. I'm not a physicist. Would it just get stuck? Would it drift out and give me a great view of everywhere? Now's not the time to take that kind of risk. No experiments.

I duck lower behind the crates, heart pounding. Five-on-two. Not great odds, even with the smoke cover and the element of surprise. And I know Soot--they're good at disappearing, at making chaos--but they can't take on all of this alone. Neither can I.

I peek through a gap between the crates, spotting Bash's hulking silhouette still staggering through the smoke, one arm shielding his face as he coughs violently. Good. He's slowed down, distracted. Lenny's forcefields are still cutting through the fog in sharp lines, trying to clear space, but he's overextending--too many barriers at once, and they're starting to flicker at the edges. His sixth barrier looks a lot thinner than the previous five.

I need to thin this out before the guards get here.

I slip out from behind the crates, moving low, fast, blood sense still pinging Lenny's position like a radar. He's crouched behind an overturned shelving unit, breathing hard, hands splayed out as he tries to hold up at least four barriers at once. Two of them are cutting into the smoke like giant fans, one's hovering above his head as a shield, and the fourth--he's aiming it toward Soot, trying to box them in completely.

"Hey, glowstick!" I yell, sprinting straight at him.

Lenny's head snaps up, wide-eyed. "What the--"

I slam into his side before he can react, driving my shoulder into his ribs and knocking him sideways into one of his own forcefields. There's a sharp, glassy crack as the barrier splinters on impact, collapsing into nothing as he hits the ground hard.

"Fuck!" he gasps, scrambling to his feet, but I'm already on him.

"Say 'Aahh' and shut your eyes!" I instruct him, hitting him with just a light dose of the pepper spray. I feel a little bad - the coughing and hacking will absolutely make him inhale a lot of smoke, and I don't want to give my enemies emphysema, but also, they're trying to kill and/or detain us and are working for murderous criminals, so it sort of evens out. You get half a dose as a compromise. Okay, Lenny?

He screams, hands flying to his eyes, forcefields vanishing all at once. Taking notes - can only keep them up as long as you're concentrating. Good to know! One down. At least for a minute, but the screaming gives me away. I take Lenny's walkie, hurl it through the smoke, and scamper off him like a dog.

"Visual on one--moving in!" another guard yells, and I hear boots pounding toward me through the fog. I pivot, heart racing, and spot two figures cutting through the smoke--both in security uniforms, tasers out, cloth masks pulled up over their faces. They're moving fast, using the thinning smoke Lenny cleared to zero in on me.

I dive behind another crate, breathing hard. "Soot! We've got company--security's on us!"

No response, of course. Just more smoke pouring into the space, thinner than before. They must be running out. The guards' footsteps echo closer, and I can hear their radios crackling.

"Capes confirmed--Bloodhound's here. Orders?"

"Subdue if possible. Avoid lethal force, backup en route" another voice replies, but there's hesitation there, like the person giving the order isn't entirely sure they care if it goes sideways. And 'backup en route'. Great.

Figures.