There weren’t many people who could fight for their lives and think of other things in the meantime. The students put everything they had against what felt like the full might of the US military. So immersed were they in not failing the game—at the moment as important as life itself—that they did not notice the variety of tools being thrown at them. Mech suits, tanks, armored vehicles, hovering machines, and different variants of each. They weren’t the only ones being tested.

Lyssa wondered if she was one of the few people in the world who could truly multitask. It wasn’t a skill, of course. Her thoughts could move in two or ten directions at once, whether she wanted them to or not. And she certainly had no say as to where they were to go. But given the right emotion, the right incentive, she could force them to go her way. As she concentrated on wrestling her Selves to think with her, she watched her peers, her teammates fight to the brink. They were flipping wrecks up for cover, digging into the ground, even tossing enemy soldiers back at them.

Her antechamber was becoming crowded. From her younger, childlike Self to the newest Eury.

“Better act quick,” Eury remarked. “How long can you make us all agree on something? I’d say roughly-”

“One minute,” Lyssa said. All those voices were making her feverish, delirious. She used that, and pulled the last Self from the proverbial sensory deprivation tank she usually slept in.

“What in Sam Hill?” Absinthe said groggily.

“You can go back soon.”

“Better be subtle with her,” Eury said. “You did not tell the media people about this one.”

Lyssa looked out at the situation before her. There were at least ten enemy units per student. More by the moment as students were being eliminated one by one. She thought for one more heartbeat.

“The copters need to go,” she said. Then she acted.

On the ground, Ironhog hid behind an upturned armored vehicle. His collar was partially lit. One more paintball and he was out. Burnout flew down and shuffled behind the cover as well, hyperventilating. He had two crimson splashes of color on his chest.

“Why is the first game of the Annual so hard,” he said. “At this rate they won’t have enough players for the next however many are left.”

“We must get losers trials,” Ironhog said. “L-like a redemption game. Probably. Right?”

Warm air blew against their faces. Two helicopters simply circled around their cover and hovered in front of them. Their gun barrels began to spin.

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They did not get a chance to fire. Pale bubbles of energy expanded over the helicopters’ engines. The vehicles stalled and dropped out of the sky, landing clumsily on the ground. The crew promptly abandoned the vehicle. Twin beams of energy swept the battlefield, knocking out any remaining flying vehicles. Ironhog poked his head out of cover. There were still plenty of men in mech suits. Beams of force-fire washed over them. They withstood the thrust well enough, bracing against it with powerful limbs. But moments later they doubled over as if someone had struck them in the stomach through the suit. Ground vehicles seemingly flipped on their own. Many soldiers suddenly found themselves defenseless as their guns flew out of their grip onto piles. Above all those strange happenstances, a figure covered in black rock hovered, hands outstretched but unmoving. The soldiers turned their weapons towards the obvious target. Their bullets found no purchase. One moment the figure was here, then it was there, leaving only a quiet sonic pop in its wake, untrackable. Then they were dispatched by force beams.

As quickly as it arrived, the figure disappeared.

Lyssa landed in front of her teammates, breathily heavily. Her rock plate turned to shards and dust, peeling off head first, revealing a sweat-stricken face.

Burnout rushed forward to help her behind cover.

“Whoa, you’re running a fever,” he said.

“I’m going to throw up,” Lyssa murmured.

“Well hold it in,” Ironhog said. “Cuz we still gotta make it across the bridge. That was you in the air, right? Scary.”

“I don’t think I can do that again,” Lyssa said. Her Selves had scattered, bickering once more. She could not call forth the tiniest sliver of their gifts. For now, she was no different than an ungifted.

A translucent figure phased through their cover and solidified beside them.

“Have we won yet?” Ecto asked, out of breath. “That was sick, by the way.”

Burnout looked.

“There’s still so many of them,” he said. “You’ve made a dent, but…”

Lyssa could barely listen. She felt sick to her core and tired to the bone. Even the gentle breeze that brushed against her hair felt like a godsend. Then it picked up, whisking away her sweat. The wind continued to pick up until it was the only thing she could feel. Dense walls of air had separated the soldiers from the students.

“Finally,” Ironhog said.

The enemy stopped firing. They had been forced to retreat. Vortex hovered above them.

“Sorry,” she said. “I… needed some time.”

“Better late than never,” Burnout said. “Come on, let’s go.” He hoisted Lyssa up by the arm. The remaining students made their way back towards the bridges under the eye of Vortex’s storm. When the game began at the forest entrance, there were over a thousand players. About a quarter remained.

When they arrived at the ravine, Vortex let her storm die, eyeing Giantsbane with a restrained expression.

“Alright, ten people per bridge at a time,” she shouted. “The rest of you, cover them in case the enemy try anything.”

The students slowly migrated across, all while Giantsbane watched with crossed arms, doing nothing so long as nobody broke the rules. When the last student stepped foot on the other side of the ravine, three massive claps echoed across the battlefield.

“Well done,” Giantsbane said without turning around. “Keep going. You’re nearly there.”

Lyssa relieved the contents of her stomach.

Burnout let her stand on her own and took a quick step away. He inspected his feet.

“That was close,” he said.