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cone of fire.

Simicron twisted around as Shona and Malmoradan ran toward him. He narrowed his eyes and instantly took the form of a stunted semi-truck with a spiked grill. Revving his engine, his tires screeched as he lurched forward and picked up speed.

Catching him by surprise, headlights bathed him from a nearby alley as a full-sized semi-truck smashed into his flank, pushing him into the side of a building. Broken bricks rained down around him as Cajun and Nimbus waved from within the cabin. “You’ll have to do better than that,” said Nimbus, and she smiled.

Creaking and sparking, Simicron slowly reverted to his natural state. “Indeed, I now intend to.”

“Shona, stop!” said Malmoradan as she closed on Meteor Mo, and he primed his lightning gun. “Baby girl, don’t make me use this!”

Shona cast Malmoradan a backward glance. “I can’t stop,” she said, and she looked away. “Do what you have to do.” She bellowed as she charged.

“Damn it, Shona, I said stop!” Malmoradan released a primal roar. Gradually, his finger relaxed as he lowered his weapon. “Damn it, Shona. Goddammit!”

The last thing Meteor Mo felt was Shona’s arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as she grappled him from behind. With all her might, she twisted his head completely around. His skin cracked and crumbled as it reverted to normal, and he fell forward, his shocked expression carved permanently onto his face.

Kodama staggered, his mouth agape. “No!” he whispered, and his eyes darted to Simicron. “You will not fall,” he said. Closing his eyes, he lifted his hands, and his forest spirits floated up, gathering in the air overhead. “Help him,” he whispered. “Go to Simicron. Restore him. Restore…” He felt a light tap on his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Dr. Kwa, you took an oath to do no harm,” said Edison. “The same oath that I took, in fact. Yet here you stand, in clear violation of it, and perfectly at peace with forcing me to violate mine.” He jammed an injector gun against Kodama’s chest and pulled the trigger.

Kodama’s forest spirits glowed brighter, and he quietly chuckled. “Conventional drugs don’t work on me,” said Kodama. “Not when my friends are near.”

“I bet this will,” said April as she ran up from behind. With all her fury, she swung the butt of her rifle. It struck the back of Kodama’s head with enough force to send him to the ground, and she raised her weapon high.

“He’s unconscious!” said Edison. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure,” said April, and she struck Kodama again.

Simicron studied Nimbus. “You wear the flesh of men but speak with the voice of a machine, yet you are not denshi-tengu. What manner of creature are you?”

“I find it’s life’s little mysteries that keep me goin’ some days,” said Cajun, and he climbed down with a set of jumper cables in hand. He clipped one end to the truck battery and smiled politely at Simicron. “Would ya mind holdin’ these for a minute?”

“You realize this will not harm me.” Simicron took the cables in hand. “If anything, it will supercharge me.”

“I realize,” said Cajun. “I do. I also know ya won’t be able to let go.” He yanked the cords, and the copper leads hooked over Simicron’s thumbs. Electricity arced around him.

Simicron laughed raucously. “What was your plan? Did you hope that by supercharging me I might be moved to show you mercy? How droll! No, I will show neither of you any mercy.”

Cajun nodded at Nimbus, and she slowly depressed the accelerator. “Any battery can be overcharged,” said Cajun. He picked up one of the bricks and walked around to the driver’s side. He propped the brick against the gas pedal and offered his hand to help Nimbus down.

“Stop,” Simicron muttered through clenched teeth, has hands clutching the leads. Sparks showered from his body. “You must stop! I cannot shapeshift while suffering any kind of injury!”

“That was kind of the idea,” said Nimbus. “You can thank Orin’s sister for that useful tip.”

Simicron gritted his teeth, and it stifled his cries.

As Nimbus and Cajun hurried away, Simicron screamed mutely until he exploded in a burst of charred flesh and circuitry.

Lafuega’s flames subsided, and she stared at Mike’s blackened form. He raised his brow, and ash fell away from his eyelids. “Well, this is embarrassing,” he said, and he used one of his hands to cover up. “I really should’ve worn my fireproof underwear.”

“How?” stammered Lafuega. “Are you unregistered?”

“I’m not,” said Mike. He approached Lafuega and dropped into a defensive stance. “Are you ready for the second round? This time, I fight back.”

Lafuega glanced at Schurke, at Meteor Mo’s corpse, and at what little remained of Simicron. She shook her head. “Not really.” She put her hands behind her neck and lay face down on the ground. “This never felt right to me, anyway.”

Shona stood tall amidst the smoldering wreckage. Gasping for breath, her clothes singed, she slowly turned around to face Schurke. “Any last words?” she asked.

Visibly shaken, Schurke cleared his throat. Retrieving his datapad, he held up his hand and said, “Wait!” He turned his device toward them, his thumb pressed against a large, red button. Within the display, Watchtower floated against a background of stars. “This is a dead-man’s switch. Understand? So, just… wait.”

◆◆◆

Orin stood alone. The air wavered, shadows flared, and everything around him existed in a haze of ghostly, doubled images. He shivered as a chill wind blew along the streets, across his naked body. Crouching low, he grabbed his clothes, but they felt hard as stone and didn’t budge. “What’s going on?” He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Casey! Mike, are you there? Nimbus! Shona, Malmoradan! Is anyone there?” April, can you hear me? he thought.

He dashed inside a nearby building. After trying several mannequins covered in the same immovable clothing, Orin at last found slacks, a polo shirt, and a pair of flip-flops in a prop closet that he was able to manipulate. Quickly, he put them on.

A pale woman

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