Kyle started moving with more force than necessary. His armored boots crunched into the pavement where he kicked off leaving twin overlapping miniature craters in the asphalt. That was the least of his worries. Jones made a decent showing of it popping little milk cartons of goo while the nerdy museum kid he was supposed to be protecting went on a haphazard manic killing spree of destruction.

That first shove off from his powered armor had sent Kyle careening past his intended target, an SUV sized class two manifestation that was quickly growing in size and organic content making it well on its way to becoming class three. Arms windmilling wildly, the warlock of the archivist caught his balance and leveled the lightning bolt he was using as a sword.

He charged at the creature on foot, each heavy boot clanging metallically. After a brief run up to speed, Kyle tried using his flight again. Unable to fully control his movements, the mech-suited figure zipped past his target again, but with more control this time. It was only his ability to control the length and force of his lightning sword that allowed him to slash the monster nearly in half as he skidded past.

“All right!” Pumping a fist in exaltation, Kyle adapted to his lack of control over flying and instead used a combination of hovering and short powerful sprints to dash from one large manifestation to another. Jones followed Kyle as they cut a swath of gore up the street. Kyle was leading in his nigh indestructible armor. Meanwhile Jones brought up the rear with a wand in one hand and his enchanted bayonet in the other, a semi-automatic rifle that shot alchemy bullets, and a bandolier full of the best damned magical charges a mage could ever hope for.

He was pretty sure that he was hearing muted cheering drifting down from the windows of the buildings above. It was difficult to be certain over the loud snarling attacks and pained roars of monsters. But in the occasional lulls where the melee was less loud, it did seem like maybe, maybe the occasional screams of pain and horror from inside the buildings lining that street were more like cries of joy. At least, that’s what he was telling his conscious.

The school had to come first.

It wasn’t shielded like it should have been and anything inside the building could turn at any moment. Everyone else in proper buildings could wait. They had to wait. The kids came first.

No.

Anna came first.

Kyle was only here for Anna.

And Jones was only here for Kyle.

Those were his orders.

Then he looked up, up to the sounds that he couldn’t block out of his head. And there he saw them, people. Leaning over the balconies of apartments screaming encouragement, or pressed against the windows of offices, restaurants, or shops and waving wildly. One idiot decided that they’d cleared enough monsters from their part of the street and actually dropped down from a second-floor fire escape while other young men of about the same teenage shouted at him. Encouragement? Admonishments? Jones couldn’t tell.

Stolen novel; please report.

Said idiot stumbled as he landed, twisting his ankle. Jones had to fire a shot over the kid’s head as one of those little milk jug bastards tried to eat said head. The boy lost the ball cap he’d been wearing revealing a head full of sandy blonde curls. He stood, favoring the twisted ankle. Yep, it was definitely hurt. Not enough to keep him from trotting around carcasses and over slippery guts to a point in the street with a good view.

That little shithead snapped selfies with Kyle and Jones killing things in the background. Then he took a couple more actions shots of the pair as Jones shook his head in disgust before the teen limped hurriedly back into the building from which he’d come. His friends were screaming kudos about how big his balls were and what a boss he was. Jones started to shake his head –

Well, shit. He thought to himself. I wouldn’t have the cajónes to come out on this street with nothing but a smart phone. After a few seconds of continued mop-up of monsters, he went back around to his original thought on the subject, which was… Of course, I’m not an idiot.

Jones hadn’t been watching how close they were to the school. After a particularly vicious one-on-one with a manifest that had to have once been a limousine, he found that he’d run out of adversaries and finally glanced further around. That had been sloppy. He needed to pay more attention. Especially to Kyle, who was the whole reason he was here.

Kyle was standing still. Helmet visor open, head tilted back, he gazed up at a monster that was nearly three stories tall. Three stories and focused entirely on the dome of ice it was trying to gnaw its way through. It alternated between trying to chew its way through the ice and beating on it with earth shaking brutality. After a few attacks, it would get winded and as it caught its breath, the monster’s bright headlight gaze focused on something directly beneath it in the ice dome.

Jones watched his charge’s face harden with understanding. Jaw tight, fists clenched, teeth grinding with rage, Kyle’s eyes followed where the monster was looking. The Magicorps soldier didn’t have to look to know, but he did anyways, found Kyle’s sister facing the beast defiantly. Though the dome of ice had seemed as if it was mostly opaque from a distance, it appeared mostly transparent up close. They could see a white-haired teen in her private school uniform. Brown eyes wide with terror and leaking tears never wavered as she fed every ounce of magic she could to reinforce the shield of ice between her and the monster.

Dozens of students huddled around her as behind them, inside the protective shield, the teachers and security fought smaller monsters encroaching on their rear. Monsters that must have gotten into the building before she put the shield up. Or more likely, they had manifested inside the building afterward.

“Look at her.” Jones breathed wondrously. Because it was a wonder to see magic so pure and powerful without the taint of a patron or the confines of a spell. “That’s amazing. She’s holding off a class… what do you think that is?” Jones turned to Kyle briefly before looking back and forth to the power struggle between the fixated monster and the… “I want to say it’s a class three but it’s gotta be at least a class four manifestation.” It was the kind of power that every mage longed for.

“I’m coming, Snow Cone.” Kyle’s words were growled low, almost breathy, and his tone of voice snapped Jones’ attention back to his ward.

The click of Kyle’s visor closing in preparation for battle was deafening to Jones. Kyle might as well have been bellowing a challenge to the twisted amalgamation of matter, magic, and life before them. Because that’s what it meant. Play time was over. It was time to go to war.