Fights with gunshot wound

Fallen were circling the vehicle, approaching me, and I flew at them. My aura helped to slow their reactions as I bowled into them.

The collision hurt the soldiers. My attention was on the masks in the group. I needed to go after the ones with powers.

I saw the first one, and I flew at them, fingers dragging against skin until I touched a strap. I grabbed it, brought out the Wretch, and used the Wretch's strength to toss them skyward.

Bursts of strength, letting the Wretch start to emerge, but not letting it unfold to its full breadth, reach, and intelligence.

I flew to intercept and brought out the Wretch for a moment, so their legs would hit the Wretch or hit my invincible self as they descended. If I didn't break their legs or feet outright, I would at least make it so they couldn't walk for a good little while.

My arm throbbed. Each time I became aware of the pain, it was doubly worse than before.

People backed away and used the car for cover against me, and I threw myself at the car. I pushed it along wet dirt driveway and I pushed it into the group.

Not that effective, but it did make them relinquish their cover, backing up and spreading out. They had guns, but they didn't fire.

Ahrima was still in the car, which still had its roof torn off. She slumped in the driver's seat, draped over the wheel. Shooting at me would risk shooting her.

I hadn't intended that, but I wasn't about to complain, either.

- Pitch 6.1