The synergist leapt out of the way, dodging the fissure with practiced footwork. He moved like a veteran—familiar with combat, knowledgable with reactions.

He drew a crossbow—too slow—and fired. The redhead raised the ground and an impossibly tall wall of earth and rusted metals separated him from the agent. Tommie, on the other hand, was cursing loudly in the background.

"Fucker." A line of red showed up on his cheek and, at the ends, slowly gathered forward. "He actually fucking hit me! What the fuck, Riley? What the hell are you doing!?"

The redhead shrugged and the wall separating him from the agent collapsed in a thundering movement. It was loud, forceful, and every bit a reminder of Riley's strength. And while the redhead stood his ground, completely unfazed by the shaking, Tommie stumbled with his balance, nearly tripping on his own feet.

"Grab the paintings. I'll meet back with you later." There was a sense of absolute certainty to his word as if he didn't think the match could end in any other way. And as he repeated his order, the floor shook again, preparing for its next move.

"You're brave to fight me, agent, and I applaud your efforts," Riley spoke dully and without great enthusiasm—like a man who's been robbed of his feelings. "But I can't let you interfere any longer."

The floors shot up in spikes—jagged and fast. There was no real pattern to the protrusions, but the danger was not lessened. "Your friends won't be able to help you."

Maalik, rather wisely, ignored Alarick's running commentary and, instead, focused on the issue at hand: Reinforcements.

They hadn't moved more than ten feet ahead before they were ambushed by six more men—each armed with automatic rifles. Some were old with scars while others were young and terrified. Maalik was quick to disable these new arrivals—knocking everyone off-balance with a well-placed, well-timed fissure.

Unlike before, he wasn't going to give them a chance to even lift a finger. The fallen weapons were swallowed into the ground, eaten up by the earth it came from. "We're not here to increase body counts," Maalik warned as he fended off an attacker, knocking the man into a pile of metal debris. "Put them out of commission and only kill as a last resort!"

It was then the earpiece buzzed with urgency. Gear.

Gear was a well-trained, well-practiced agent. He shouldn't have any problems with such a low-level mission, but his voice read panic and genuine fear. 'What is happening over there?'

He glanced over at Skylar, who seemed to be following just fine, and then at Alarick, who looked completely at home in the field. "Gear, we're moving to your location now."

Looking around him, Maalik said, "We'll have to do this quickly. Agent Reindhart, go ahead to Agent Gear's location. Miss Quilliam and I will join you shortly after."

The team moved quickly from the rooftops to the edge of the compound and was now only a few minutes away from entry. Wen could feel the familiar tickle of adrenaline shoot through his veins, pumping him with a need to hit and hit hard. But he kept his excitement to himself.

There just wasn't any point in sharing his thoughts with this group of cold, mute, and asshole. Plus, Wen knew when his words weren't being appreciated.

After the taller man explained the plan for the millionth time (and Wen had rolled his eyes for the billionth revolution since the start of the mission), the blond inched along the edge, careful to keep within covers. With his back pressed against the iron-cold walls, Wen concentrated on the palm of his hand.

He imagined the coldness of a pool—its solid, but not solid surface breaking as he dove into the blue. And, slowly, water gathered in his hands, shaping and drawing into a tiny ball. It was no bigger than a tennis ball, but for its purpose, the size didn't really matter.

After all, size wasn't always everything.

Wen rolled the creation two feet away from him and as he waited for the summon to stop, he focused on the warped, but vague reflection on its surface. Bent metal railings, wavy-looking weeds, but no distorted-looking guards. Collapsing the ball, Wen darted forward and took cover behind a stack of red-brown metal barrels, the signs of "danger" peeling from the containers.

Well, this seemed like a good place to watch for any wannabe-firefighter. Glancing back at Acaelus, Wen signaled "clear" and waited.

As the spikes came up, Gear attempted to dodge as much as he could, but the one's he couldn't just hit his shadow essence armor, not that it wasn't painful. He was going to be bruised beyond belief. But no puncture wounds today. After the tremors stopped, Gear punched though the thinner parts of the rock so he could move out of the area. He jumped and and hopped along the rocks towards Riley and gathered shadows along the ground near the man, but not enough to be noticed. Once he had gathered enough of it to do something with he shot it up, attempting to ensnare the man so he could go in to incapacitate the man, lethally or otherwise.

When Gear Heard Alarick was ordered to come help him, he retreated for a moment, keeping his focus on the shadows ensnaring the man. "Agent Reindhart, watch out for a blonde man wearing an eye patch. He may be a synergist and he has the paintings with him. The man inside with me is a Sabulum."

"Tch."

Riley lowered his hand and the spikes—which were many—stopped erupting from the ground, but the pause was merely a temporary reprieve. Riley had no intentions of sparing the agent.

The metal overhead creaked and groaned under the stress of the ground's movement, catching Riley's attention and capturing it long enough for the man to fall victim to child's play.

The shadow pulled at his feet, but Riley didn't resist. Instead, he stood there—rooted to the spot he had been in since the beginning. "Kid, didn't that school teach you anything about my degree?

"You can't trap me."

The ground seemingly exploded. Cracks shot to every corner of the room, tearing the floor into pieces. Riley, at the source, disappeared from view as the floor fell and shook and collapsed. Chunks of rock, cement, and metal shot up as the floor broke. The walls, unable to withstand the pressure of the earth, swayed and snapped—sending the roof to the ground.





(N/A: I didn't move Riley out of the entrapment. Rather, he disappears from view because... the floor is collapsing and things are falling down.).

Tommie could hear the warehouse fall behind him in a loud, final groan.

'Guess he really brought the house down,' the blond mused. He didn't look back to confirm because, in honesty, he didn't care. If Riley didn't survive then he wasn't strong enough to stay alive. "The world belongs to the powerful after all," he chuckled.

Packing away the goods in an old, leather trunk, Tommie took out another cigarette and lit it up. He didn't use a lighter, but, then again, what does an Accendo synergist need a lighter for?

When the building started to truly collapse, Gear gathered up as much shadows as he could to cover himself. He wasn't used to having this much of a fight, even against synergists. He had been away from combat missions for too long, seeing as for the past 2 years, since Alarick's injuries, Gear had only done solo recon/intelligence missions. He never worked with anyone or got into any major combat, preferring to stealthily taking care of any guards.

The rocks, cement and metal fell down on his shadow shield and made the thing bend a lot more that Gear would've liked. He could still tell Riley was ensnared, so he tightened the shadows on his legs and bent more shadows out to try to get his arms, but the fact that he was not able to see him didn't help him succeed in that task.

The roof met the ground with a force that pushed a tremor throughout the area and as the last of the pipes and rods and rafters settled in, an eerie quiet blanketed the scene. Neither men had moved to leave the warehouse and, in the after a minute, neither men had emerged victorious.

It was as if the two were buried with the rubbles of industrialization.

But things are rarely as they seem.

One part of the rubbles shifted, groaned, and shuttered as if it was fighting to keep from moving. But the resistance was short-lived.

Metal, dirt, and cement shot into the air, exploding and cracking in the way it might under extreme pressure. Dust caught into the air and a gloved hand reached out. Bits of red hair showed through, but Riley, glued to the floor, wasn't in a position to climb out.

He glanced at his feet and then in front of him, but all he could see was the destruction of the building—its pipes, its frames, and its fixtures. There was nothing in front of him, but the shadow at his feet said otherwise.

"You had your chance to run. You could have escaped. Yet you stayed to make sure I couldn't leave. And what has that gotten you?" Riley asked aloud. The other man was 20 feet away, guarded by synergy energy. "You're surrounded by all things earth and at my mercy."

He raised his hand in front of him and the rubble moved, but, this time, instead of bursting out, it was fighting to move in.

"Tell me, what has your bravery won you?"

‘What in hell is Gear doing?’ Alarick thought viciously as he listened to the sheer destruction of the building furthest away from him. Apparently the mission was scrambled now, and if there was any hope in espionage it was entirely gone. What the man hoped was that Gear managed to corner Errol- which wasn’t mentioned to be a synergist- and had paintings in hand. Of course that wasn’t much of a learning experience for Agent Quilliam. ‘Well hello new recruit watch as someone plays hero and fails to use teamwork- this is not what you are supposed to do- ever.’

The man would have slammed his palm into his face if he wasn’t a) wearing glasses and b) needing to enact on their current plan. “I will do- be safe you two.” Alarick remarked before running to Gear’s position. Yes he could still run- he didn’t much care for it as he was afraid that it would wear away what little cartilage there was in his leg.
Gear’s voice broke through his run and he placed his finger to his ear- not that he really needed too but he was attempting to somewhat buffer the outside noise. “Well noted- I don’t see anyone like that currently, but just hold on.” Alarick stated as he bolted towards the quickly collapsing building. ‘A Sabulum- really? What am I going to do against that? Oh well time to use this a bit early.’

The destruction came swiftly into his sight, and Alarick used the only trick that would somewhat give him an advantage in this situation. It took a pause right at the edge of the building, but he inevitably managed it. It was almost as if playing one of those retro arcade games where you were the hook hand and attempted to grab some sort of stuffed animal at the bottom. It may slip through your grasp a couple of times, but once you managed to get it squarely ensnared then there was no more fuss.
Rain began to trickle down from the overcast sky- a bit here and there- but it was almost as if someone had just poked holes in the tarp. A moment later it was as if the entire thing just came undone and from it was released a massive deluge. “Try to manipulate that,” Alarick grumbled- abusing his degree somewhat to not get a speck of rain on his coat. “Now to find Gear.”

“Where is your location? I think it is time to pull out- this area his highly unstable.” Alarick advised- not that that mattered. He wanted to berate the other man: where is Errol? Where are the paintings? Seriously- can you not mess up a mission? But he kept his mouth shut- there would be a time for that much later.

And then a reprieve was offered. The earth, the metal, and all the remnants of the factory stayed still as rain—heavy and sudden—fell from the skies. It trailed down Riley's face, slipped into his clothes, and the frown on his lips deepened.

He hated rain.

Dropping his hand to his side, the redhead concentrated on the ground before it could soak any further. Vibrations were useless when the soil turned to mud. But his efforts were wasted as a faint, but distinct voice carried through the silence, cutting through the windless-rain with surprising clarity.

'Backup. Pulvius synergist, then?'

With his feet still firmly planted on the floor, Riley looked around him. He could feel the binds weaken—byproduct of the situation—but calculations left him wary of forcing a break. No, he'll let the other man pointlessly drain his energy away. It was a more fitting end for someone like him: Doing foolish things even in the sake of hopelessness.

Closing his eyes, the redhead focused his energy into the ground, a quiet tremor pushing through the increasingly moist floors. Thirty-two feet, south-east.

It was too far for Riley, from his current vantage, to do anything, but ten feet closer and he'll take two for two.

Locke stepped onto the fire escape with ease, his weight causing it to creak some, but that was all it seemed to do. The redhead didn't feel a shock of fear as he looked down at the others, who carefully moved down the side of the building with very extreme caution. He chuckled quietly and to himself before looking back at Kanon.

"Well, Agent Masami, shall we go?" he asked, a red eyebrow quirking up with a playful smile. The grin on his face wasn't malicious, only silly in an odd sense, before it disappeared as he started to descend down the rickety stairs.

When he pulled himself down the last step of the ladder and his feet hit the ground, he took a step off to the side and adjusted his collar. He checked his communication device that was looped around his ear and then the tracing device that was on his wrist. All good? Great. Now for fire-time.

He then installed the location into his tracker and then watched as Wen had moved forward with a careful skill. Locke couldn't help but smile at how the blond had thought to look around the corner. That was smart. Didn't expect that from him. The clear was given and his gaze went to Acaelus, waiting for his "go" sign, and glancing back to see if Kanon had made it down safely.

Her thin lips bent into a slight smile when more gangsters showed up in front of them. The less experienced gangsters were shaking with fear; the long rifles looked like wooden toy bows in their trembling hands. The enemies confronting them were merely humans – stupid weaklings – but were still better than nothing. She had been worried that she would be bored to death. The youngster was the only one wishing for direct clashes. The serious look of her supervisor suggested that he was not amused.

To her great dismay, the A-ranked agent took an instant action to disarm the men. “Tsk,” Skylar advanced to take on the few racketeers after Maalik told Agent Reindhart to assist Agent Gear. The nervous rivals cracked their knuckles, seeing the girl heading towards them. In a flash, the redhead downed one with a strong bash. It was easy. “Damned lil’ tomboy!” two other men attempted to assault the young agent from behind. Without throwing a glance, she swept them off their feet with an agile spin-kick. The men fell hard on their backs.


Like a carnivore having hunted down its preys, the redhead gazed down at the men. Cruelty flickered in her eyes. But then she remembered Agent Maalik was somewhere behind her and might be observing her. Biting her lip hard, she reluctantly gave up killing the rivals and broke a few of the males' bones instead.

accessdenied"Well, Agent Masami, shall we go?" The words of a certain redhead snapped Kanon out of her daze of thoughts. Her eyes flitted towards the source of the spoken words, and she nodded at Locke's words, moving to follow him down the stairs, her boots making a clunking sound with each step they took, and the staircase itself letting out a creaky moan as well. Kanon bit her lip; she was comfortable with large heights, but not feeling unstable.

accessdeniedAfter she'd made it down the stairs, Kanon looked at Locke, and gave him a quick nod to signal that she was alright. It's time to get into action, I suppose...Just need to wait for Acaelus's signal... the female's eyes scanned the perimeter, then waited for the aforementioned signal.

With Alarick gone, Maalik made quick work of the men still up for a fight.

Minutes later, the three that had surrounded Maalik struggled with the hardened earth around their feet and ankles. "There's no point in struggling. You'll only hurt yourself," the agent offered, his tone pointedly cold and professional. "Your participation in the crime has been noted."

Looking away from the men, Maalik's eyes searched for the graduate. Evidently, Skylar wasn't afraid or shy of combat. "Miss Quilliam, if you're finished, we should join with Agent Gear."

Nodding at what Agent Maalik said with an impatient frown, she stamped on the disabled gangsters' rib cages then kicked the poor men aside. "Roger," she folded her arms behind her back. Although she had not muttered a word of discontent, her expression openly told her dislike of either the mission or her supervisor - or both. It was always better to get things done quickly though. There was, hence, no point wasting time on grumbling. Skylar put her arms down, jumped over the debris and followed the tanned male.

"It's perfectly reasonable to fight synergists without holding back, right?" she asked the one in fornt of her while hurrying to the scene. Synergists, with no doubt, were more challenging to deal with than humans. The presence of a supernatural being in the rival camp was a surprise. It did make the task more complicated, yet it added some thrill to the boring mission at the same time. Just as hoped, the naïve redhead personally viewed it as another war game.

In terms of attitude and self-discipline, Skylar was still a far cry from a professional agent.

Maalik raised a brow in surprise at the redhead's treatment of the fallen men—mental note: aggression—but said nothing on the matter. This was, after all, an evaluation period. Anything he had to say, he'll say it at the end of the year.

Without wasting any time, the agent hurried to Gear's last known location. The tracer on the bracelet had seemingly gone dead and the Egyptian was starting to worry. Having an unaccounted synergist appear was not a terribly upsetting event. It was only a minor inconvenience. Having a much stronger, unaccounted synergist was a definite problem.

"It's perfectly reasonable to fight synergists without holding back, right?"

At her words, Maalik looked to Skylar, his brows knitting together in slight disapproval. "This isn't another training simulation or practical, Miss Quilliam. There are real consequences to what happens here and you should—"

And then he felt it, the pushing of an opposing vibration, the pulse of someone else—of someone that gave the agent pause. This wasn't any ordinary Sabulum synergist, but Maalik had to see for himself to be certain. He had to know. "Miss Quilliam," his tone took a sharp, commanding sound—seriousness replacing his entire disposition. "Do what you must, but do not take any unnecessary risks."

He could feel another presence walking—Alarick, perhaps—but the rain was making it harder for him to be sure. He couldn't detect the Sabulum synergist anymore, but he knew he wasn't mistaken.

Coming into sight, Maalik could see Alarick searching the debris. 'This is definitely the work of a Sabulum synergist.' He, however, couldn't see Gear or the other synergist. But the pulse he felt earlier was unmistakeable. The synergist wasn't dead.

Touching his ear-piece, the agent asked, "Gear, what is your status?"

Gear was running out of steam. He couldn't hold the man any longer while also guarding himself. He had to choose. He decided to try to last a bit long and wait for Alarick.

And then the rain fell. Note to self: Thanks Alarick for the save.

Renewed with a surge of adrenaline, Gear pushed the rubble off of him as he heard Maalik's quarry. "Right here, Maal. Not to worry." He said into his ear piece. Once enough of the rubble was cleared away, Gear rushed away from his position, hoping Riley couldn't follow his movements because of the mud. He landed softly next to Alarick. "Hey," he said as if they had just met on a jog. "What's the plan Maalik? The Synergist, who I assume is called Riley, is about 10 meters from your position buried in the rubble. I've bound him for now but I can't keep it up much longer. I don't know where his buddy went but I can only assume he's also a synergist. Right now it;s four on one, so it's your call. Tell me what to do. Release him or keep him bound?"

Gear made sure to speak softly so that Riley wouldn't be able to hear.

After a short nod of affirmation towards Kanon and Locke, Acaelus started off in the opposite direction that Wen had gone. Towards the other side of the building, Acaelus took to the slim darkness of the structure in an attempt to give himself some semblance of disguise. The shadows were non-existant on the side of the building that he had chosen to follow unfortunately, and it wasn't long before a pair of guards found him. Acaelus quickly took note that one of the two had a walkie-talkie device cradled in his hand and pressed to his lips, and he was speaking into it with hasty words.

Each one looked to be about half his age. Which said a lot, considering. They each had scars lining their bodies in various places, where as he, had none. Evidence of their misfortune, a stark contrast to what he was used to, growing up in Halcyon. The image of them advancing head on without some sort of backing, almost made him stop in his tracks. Almost.

Stepping from the line of shadows, he engaged them first; one of them rushed at him but before he could land strike Acaelus swiped the boy across the head while dodging another blow coming to his side from the others weapon. It was a dance for him. He managed to knock them both unconscious within a matter of seconds and dragged them to the wall of a building opposite the one that would be burning within minutes; Acaelus checked their pulses to ensure their survival, before he moved on.

When he arrived at the back of the building, he noticed Wen crowded behind a stack of barrels and nodded in his direction as he went to the back of the building which held the box panel embedded in the wall. While he disabled the controls, in a short voice directed at Wen he warned, “We might have visitors.”

The metal and the earth shifted, trembling and shaking as the other man fought to escape the steely confines of roof rafters, beams, and pipes. The metal screeched and scraped against each other, but Riley, caught off guard by the rain and the sense of a nearby resistance, was slow to move.

Reaching for the nearest flat surface, Riley pushed down with his hand, fully expecting to escape, but his feet wouldn't budge. Looking down, the redhead noticed the darkness clinging onto him, keeping him grounded.

"Pointless."

The floor around his person glowed a faint, but brilliant orange and, suddenly it began to grow upwards. The earthly tower stood at ten feet tall and Riley could see all four agents, one closer than the other three. "Who do you think you are, Agent?"

Suddenly, an earthly stair of mixed metal, plates, and earth appeared before him, rising from the debris and the floors to, eventually, reconnect with the wetter dirt. "You can't run and hold me down." He moved to take the first step and the shadows shattered like glass, breaking and fragmenting as he broke free.

When Gear rejoined the team, already prepared to reenter battle, Maalik stopped him.

"Wait, did you just say his name is 'Riley?'" The earth rumbled, shaking in the tell-tale signs of a synergist.

"Who do you think you are, Agent?"

Red hair, red eyes, and unwanted recognition—The Gravedigger. 'Shit.' The Egyptian tensed at the sight, his shoulders stiffening with something kin to fear. This was not what he had signed up for.

"Get back, Agent Reindhart!" Maalik shouted, running forward in a moment of panic and stress. "Don't approach him!"

Wen watched as Acaelus took down two guards, making quick work of the two. 'Show off.'

"We might have visitors."

The blond rolled his eyes, but his lips stayed sealed. Peeking through some of the spaces between the barrels, Wen caught sight of two more guards. They wore ragged-looking clothes, patched and frayed at the edges. One had matted hair and the other looked halfway at death's door. 'Disgusting.'

Bringing his hand down in a striking motion, a shallow puddle of water formed at the feet of the two. The water shot up and wove around them like fluid vines, twisting around their bodies and encircling their necks. One of the men, startled, dropped their walkie-talkie. The other reached for his gun, but Wen was faster.

A pillar of water shot up, the pressure knocking the gun out of the other man's hand. Using the same pillar of water, Wen bit down on his lip and rammed it into the men's chests—knocking them off their feet and onto the floor.

Releasing the summons, Wen fell onto his knees as he clutched his head. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply—as if he was starved for oxygen. Exhaling loudly and inhaling deeply, Wen waved to Acaelus and shook his head in protest. I need to rest, he wanted to say. Too much.

But all he managed was: I...to... too much.

It was then he heard a voice coming from the unconscious bodies. "Hey, what happened you guys? Why are you... What is all this water doing here??"

Looks like the visitors got there early, so much for keeping watch.

The "go" was given and the head mentor had went on ahead, engaging in a quick knock-out session with two rugged looking guys. The sounds of something dragging on the floor and then a curt warning. Locke blinked at how fast the man had worked and held back the urge to just sit there and marvel. He usually wasn't the kind to do that, but when something that would have taken him a little bit more time to do, it was done with the grace of a dancer.

Stop ogling his work and get on with it, you idiot! he scolded himself. He let out a sigh and then turned the corner, sticking to the shadows and the plan. The red haired man came to a stop behind a rather large box, which had the same smell that of a garbage can. He paused from what he was doing when new voices came in, but Wen and a bit of water took care of them.

A quick dash to the other side and the assumption that Kanon was right behind him, Locke felt rather pressed for time, as he was right to be. Just as he had ducked into the building, he started to search for flammable things.

The building was a simple garage, with things laying about. Everything seemed grimy and disgusting and eerily quiet. The man walked about, his steps nearly silent as he came around to a vehicle. A slight smile painted his lips when he found a familiar red container sitting on the ground. He picked it up before unscrewing the lid and then carefully dumping the gas onto the ground around the car.

When he was done, he tossed the can aside and then he brought his hands together, closing his eyes to focus on creating the flame in his hands. When the warmth flickered against his palms, he pulled them apart and pointed his fingertips towards the ground. The flame didn't just spit from his hands uncontrollably, but it floated it carefully to the ground, as if he were placing an expensive wine glass onto an unstable surface.

"There we go. Flames." he sighed, extinguishing his hands. A slight ache nagged at the back of his mind, the pain more dull than piercing.

The rain was obscuring but the rubble was even harder to get through, and honestly Alarick couldn’t make heads or tails on where the building began or ended. The tracking device that was attached to all of them showed that Gear was a little ahead, but it was hard to tell given the fact that the entire landscape of the area was different now. He had put his foot down on what he had thought was firm ground multiple times only to have it shift out from under him. Yes the agent realized that the rain was counterproductive, but if enough of it managed to soak the area then it is plausible that the synergist’s ties to the earth would loosen. It was also fair to say that this was decent cover for the both of them as it created erratic vibrations on the earth along with obscuring one’s view.

Gear found Alarick first, and the agent glanced him over for wounds before addressing him. “We need to leave- now. Agent Maalik and Quilliam are making their way here- we need to regroup and refocus.” What went unsaid was: ‘from the sheer size of this destruction what we are looking at is high class synergist that we are not prepared to take on especially with a new recruit’.
Yet there was only a minute pause before they were greeted with both Maalik and this unknown synergist. Alarick pressed his eyes against the red head, and then came back to his fellow agents. The rain came to a small patter before dissolving into nothing more than a fine mist that coated clothes and flesh with a sticky residue. Alarick wasn’t about to waste all his energy keeping up his cover if they were staring their opponent straight in the face. Those eyes went to the puddles of water that had collected during the rain and he began to concentrate. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to use them, but their current situation seemed a bit dire.

"Oh? You must be the other Sabulum synergist," Riley said as he reached the ground level, a thin layer of mud sticking to the bottom of his boots.

And, without warning, spikes protruded from the ground, forcing Maalik to roll left—away from Alarick, but right into Riley's trap.

Metal cut into his right arm and blood spilled onto the already wet, already damp floors. Biting back a scream, Maalik instinctively reached for his wound. 'This isn't good.'

Jake Reynolds was having a bad day. First, he lost his wallet. Second, he lost his phone. And third, he was almost out of fuel for his bike.

Grumbling underneath his breath, the brunette scratched at his chin, his nails catching in the stubble he called a goatee. "What the fuck am I gonna do? Shit." He hadn't planned for much today other than picking up another pack of cigarettes and taking a pit stop at the local strip club. But no wallet meant no smokes and no scantily clad (to nothing-clad) women.

And then the fourth bad thing caught his attention: smoke. Confused, the man started running to the source of the smell. It was getting stronger—did a gas pipe leak again?

When he rounded the corner, he caught site of a redhead setting fire to things. 'Damn arsonists.' Pulling out a gun from the back of his waistband, Jake pointed it at the man and said, "What the fuck do ya think ya doin' here?"

Locke turned to the dark haired man and quickly found that he was burning the wrong thing. Apparently the owner of the bike was pointing a gun at him. Oh. Well. Shit. At the sight of the metal, the agent raised his hands to the sides of his head, after he tapped his tracker, a double tap to the screen that would cause a silent back-up call. With the gun pointed at him, there wasn't much he could do.

"I was," he cleared his throat. ""Looking for a friend. I saw the fire here and tried to use the dirt to smolder the flame." I've got three guns on me, right? he reminded himself. One under the am... two at the waist. He only has one, and Kanon may be able to distract him so I can pull one out... The plan played out in his head, but the only real worry he had was that it might not work.

Ugh, I'm such a worrywart. I've got faith in these guys, right?

Alarick pulled hard to the right. While he was no spring chicken to synergist fights- Sabulum synergists were far from his forte. As a Pulvis user he was more knowing on how to fight Accendo users, and pair with Imbre users- water and earth were never really a powerful or feared combination.

He managed to just miss a ground spike as it erupted near underfoot. In that process he dropped his cane- not like the sword within it would be helpful for someone that could control metal. Alarick pulled his body up as best as he could and brought focus back to the water puddles as Riley was intent on Maalik. He would need more water than that, and would be open while attempting to both summon and manipulate- still he needed to get Riley off of his fellow agent.
While there were multiple puddles- Alarick only concentrated on three. Pulling extra moisture from the misty atmosphere he sent three high-powered jets of water towards Riley- two for his legs and one for the center of his back. It wasn’t a continuous stream, but it should be enough- if it connects- to knock him down.

When Riley broke out of Gear's entrapment Gear felt the shadows smash as if they had smash into his chest. Then he realized how powerful this man really was. No one breaks out of a bind like that. Usually.
Then another realization came to Gear’s attention. He was running out of energy. He didn't realize how much it took to bind a man from so far away- or how much it took to lift a few hundred pounds of rock. He may have a few more shadow essences left in him-probably three or four- but that was it. After that it would be hand to hand or retreat. And Gear knew from experience that you didn't want to get into close combat with a Sabulum who is trying to kill you. It was suicide- especially if the synergist in question if probably of A-3 to S-2 level mastery.
This was not a mission to start with. Why the hell do high powered synergists want ancient artwork? Shouldn't they be going after huge amounts of money or causing massive panic just for the kicks? None of this made sense.
And then Gear saw Maalik go down and then Alarick try to attack Riley with water. But he didn't really have a lot. So Gear decided to look around for a new source of water. He found a dilapidated water tower that he was sure a shadow essence bolt would bust open. He decided to wait a bit before he did it so that Riley was off guard and wouldn't be able to counter. He figured Alarick wouldn't be able to manipulate all of it, but having extra water wouldn't hurt.

"Putting out a fire, my ass."

Jake knew all about the punks around the city and he knew that not a single one of them was the good samaritan-type. "Git over there," he gestured with the gun, briefly pointing for the redhead to walk to left. "Git or I shoot ya dead right now."

Riley drew another spike and Maalik tumbled to the side again, the rocks snagging the ends of his uniform. The redhead was relentless with his attacks and Maalik, unable to do more than play defensively, was forced into the proverbial, but metaphorical wall.

"You can't win just by—" Something wet, but hard connected with his person and suddenly, Riley was knocked off his feet and sent ten, maybe fifteen feet backwards, into the pile of metal pipes.

And Maalik, seeing the chance, encased the other man with the pipes, bending them around Riley's body. 'This might be our only chance to kill him.' The blood lost, while not profuse, was nothing to laugh about. "This is our chance!"