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He wasn’t meant to have these powers.
Dark had told him time and time again how dangerous they could be if overused, and yet, he refused to listen.
And it landed him here, exhausted to the point where he could barely stand, facing down the hired guns sent after his brother.
He really wished he was a better listener.
He didn’t have much of a choice but to keep moving, though.
So he did.
The paintbrush tool, which he’d mainly been using to create temporary cover, became much more crucial, since it was tied to the only ability he could use without tearing himself apart.
The only ability he had that wasn’t slowly killing him.
He kept fighting, ignoring the small part of himself that begged him to stop.
Ignoring the scars forming cracks in his skin, the way everything slowly began to ache when he moved even a little, the physical toll those powers were taking on him.
His opponents were relentless, though. It soon became clear they wouldn’t stop fighting unless it became clear they were in a losing battle.
And from the looks of it, that wasn’t going to happen. This fight needed to end now, or it would never be over.
(Not until he couldn’t take anymore)
There was one final resort he could use.
And when the opportunity came, he used it.
When snow began to fall, on a day when none was predicted, those unaware of the circumstances would be confused, maybe even a little concerned. After all, snow doesn’t just come out of nowhere, right?
But those who saw the ice with no clear source on that battlefield, the ones who saw the figures encased in the crystalline structures, they knew that something much bigger had happened than anyone could have imagined.
Exactly what had happened, though, seemed like it would forever remain unclear.
It was over.
But there was a problem.
Everything hurt.
It quickly became clear that adrenaline had been the only thing keeping the full extent of the pain at bay, and with that slowly fading, he began to realize he’d pushed himself far past his limit.
Slowly, he became aware that someone was coming up to him, but it was hard to concentrate on anything with the persistent ringing in his ears. All he could do was try to stay on his feet, though even that was becoming a seemingly impossible task.
At first, he thought the someone in question was Dark, having finally figured out that something was wrong (He was supposed to be back hours ago, right?).
But the last voice he could remember hearing before everything went dark told him otherwise.
“Don’t say he didn’t warn you, Vic.”