CHNK! CHNK! CHNK! CHNK!
Golden rule of clingshots: if you can hear them loading up, it’s probably too late.
Mr. Perk didn’t care.
He flung himself back from Mr. Grey.
Mr. Blicky’s clingshot fired anyway.
It missed. However, the bullet’s atmospheric disruption dragged Mr. Perk through exit hole punched through warehouse.
As for Mr. Grey? His body tried to follow the airflow. Still connected to the clingshot, his keychain yanked him short. He dangled as the clingshot lurched to compensate. Its electron web kept its feet on the ground.
Mr. Blicky trained his clingshot on the hole Mr. Perk disappeared through, hoping to get a good shot in the moment he reappeared.
“What are you looking for?” Mr. Perk breathed down his neck.
“AJIFJOSIFJDOSDIAAFFF!” freaked out Mr. Blicky.
He whirled. By the time his firing claws raised, Mr. Perk had wrenched them towards Mr. Galock. The metaphorical trigger had already been pulled.
A hypersonic round ripped past Mr. Galock. The aim was been off, just a bit, but the airflow was brutal. It dragged the landlord from his clingshot, snapped his keychain. He smacked against a support beam and slumped.
Wheezing for breath, he could only watch as Mr. Perk cracked the firing claws from Mr. Blicky’s clingshot and whacked him aside with it. Mr. Galock looked up to see Amy perched on the scaffolding, watching.
“Amy, please … HELP ME!” he cried with ragged breaths. “HE’S GONNA KILL US!”
Amy looked away, ignoring him.
A flood of aerosol crashed into Mr. Galock. It was an incarnation of Mr. Perk’s wrath. Mr. Galock went straight through the beam, through the wall, into the streets.
Mr. Grey took aim. It was time to clip Mr. Perk’s wings. Suddenly, all feeling to his firing claw was gone. Then went the other three. Mr. Perk was the quicker draw, launching sharp blasts of aerosol that tore off the clingshot’s firing mechanisms.
An evasive lunge. That was all Mr. Grey could manage. Even in the air, he felt his clingshot lose its legs to Mr. Perk’s sharp shooting. One severed his keychain, bringing pain like no other.
Tumbling to the ground, Mr. Grey’s clingshot nearly crushed him in landing. He laughed bitterly, looking up as Mr. Perk approached him like an angel of death.
“Finally got dat ‘landlord work ethic’ going on, eh?” Mr. Grey mocked.
Mr. Perk moved in for the kill.
Amy darted in front of him. “Mr. Perk, timeout. We-”
He shredded her avatar with his bladed wing rings and kept going as if it were never there.
Fascinating.
His body was a lot more fragile than hers. He should have been weaker, but her aerosol was working overtime to give him the absolute best it had to offer. It was like a suit of powered armour. The air was boiling, thanks to the unusually high energy it demanded. It wouldn’t run out either. She’d attached an organic tether from this pocket of biomass to the main one. It was like a power cable. That way, she could fight John Crow while letting Mr. Perk do his thing, and oh, the things he did. The things her biomass did for him. It had never gone this far for her. Maybe his fragility was key. It knew he was a glass cannon, so it compensated with everything it had. His wrath and willpower certainly helped. Amy took notes. She could try to implement some of this into her constructs, but right now?
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It was time to shut this down.
The fragments of her avatar spread into a spider web that fixed to every corner of the warehouse, binding Mr. Perk in place. She took back some control of her biomass, weakening him enough to make it work.
A freshly spawned avatar hovered in front of him as he writhed.
“LET ME GO!” he roared. “HE DESERVES THIS! WHY ARE YOU HELPING HIM!?”
Amy tilted her head in thought. She sent a hair tendril to Mr. Grey’s skull. He was in no state to contest it. Her eyes widened as she scanned his memories.
“I hate to say, but Mr. Grey may not be a lost cause,” Amy informed. “The landlords did the same to him as they did to you. At this stage, he actually wants you to end him. He understands that he deserves it.”
“THEN LET ME DO THIS! JUST LET ME!” Mr. Perk spat. “HE KNOWS IT’S RIGHT! YOU KNOW IT’S RIGHT!”
Amy sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know about that. Either way, it’s my biomass, and it’s not for killing.”
“BUT YOU ALREADY LET ME-!” he stopped himself and glanced at Mr. Blicky’s body.
Having noticed him, Mr. Blicky played dead. She must have protected him from the full force of the blow. He could only assume Mr. Galock was still alive too.
“YOU PROTECTED THEM!?” Mr. Perk snarled. “HOW COULD YOU!? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY’VE DONE!?!”
“Yes,” she shrugged simply.
“YOU’RE A MONSTER!” he raged.
“… ‘Cause I won’t let you commit murder with my own body?” Amy deadpanned.
“THEN LET ME GO!” he demanded.
“Okay,” Amy agreed.
She set him down, withdrawing her biomass so that he couldn’t weaponise it. Nonetheless, he lunged for Mr. Grey. A raspberry barrier sprang up, shielding his would-be victim. He beat against it, always one beat short. It took him a moment to remember that Mr. Grey shot off his arm.
Mr. Grey chuckled.
Mr. Perk scowled, clutching the empty spot on his shoulder where Amy patched him up. He couldn’t feel it. Maybe she was numbing the nerves.
Mr. Perk glared up at her. He reached back to yank off the dim bomb attached to his back. Based on the minds she’d raided, Amy knew doing so would set it off. He was planning to take out Mr. Grey with the blast.
Her aerokinesis stopped his hand.
Mr. Perk gnashed his teeth. “He blasted off my arm. You caught my hypersonic bullet, but you couldn’t stop him? You’ve taken back your power, and you won’t even let me have my justice by my own hand. You really think you’re the hero?”
Amy’s hair spread out as she descended before him. It was like watching a predator open its jaws. Was she really going to do this? Just ‘cause he caused a fuss?
Her tentacles enveloped him. So did her arms. It felt … nice. Better than nice. Was she hugging him? It seemed she was doing more than that. He felt the tentacles caressing the pain and hatred from his psyche. They lightly tugged at the bitter memories, but he held them fast. He had good reason to be angry, to hurt. She had no right to take that away against his will, so she didn’t.
Tears flowed freely and snot bubbled in his nostrils as he half-heartedly struggled to break free.
“Stop,” he begged. “Why can’t you leave me be? Just let go! There’s nothing left for me here.”
“Kirk Perkins,” Amy began, “I know it feels like there’s nothing left to live for, like you’re all alone, and no one understands, but please. Please. Give yourself a chance. I promise. I’ll do everything in my power to show you that life is worth living. You are not alone, and you never will be.”
His muscles trembled as he made one last push to rip off the bomb. Finally, he went limp. It didn’t matter anymore. Maybe he’d finish the job when she finally let him go. Maybe …
…
Maybe this was okay.
Mr. Perk hated the thought, but perhaps Amy was right. She meant what she said. He sensed her sincerity as immutably as gravity. Someone … actually Cared about him. He wasn’t alo-
He felt panic flare through Amy’s mind link.
Then he felt no more.
KCHOOOM!
The warehouse went up in a billowing dim bomb. Amid the burning clouds, Amy watched the ashes fall from her grip. She’d tried to block it, but she wasn’t fast enough. It came in a focused stream, like a beam.
Amy peered through the sickly, off yellow atmosphere, vaguely making out the culprit responsible. John Crow’s eyescraper stared back with a dozen, unblinking gazes.
Within the building, John Crow grinned. Would she cry? Would she scream? Oh, how delicious! He licked his lips, but her display of despair never came. She simply stared, and blinked. Calm. Too calm, but there was something behind her eyes that set off alarms at the back of his skull. As his smile faded, hers appeared. It was not a pleasant one. For a time, she simply returned his gaze. Hers was almost mesmerising. A scene from an old dinosaur movie came to mind: something about when a raptor stares at you, and does nothing, that means its buddy was creeping up on your blindside.
He blinked, realised she’d slowly unfurled her hair and head into those entrancing, concentric, circles. The goal was to keep him looking.
John Crow didn’t bother look for the attack. He simply warped his eyescraper away. A car-sized hole appeared in the building behind where he’d been. Whatever that thing was, its swift, silent piercing power might have actually broken through his defenses. It left a subtle, optical phenomenon: more concentric circles. He almost didn’t realise he was looking at them
On instinct, he moved his eyescraper again.
More, nigh-invisible strikes riddled the landscape where he’d been. Half-seen figures darted through the streets.
…………………… Well, this sucked.