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Legs’ hands shook as he snatched a stray match and a stone off the floor while Olsted monologed in front of him, too caught up in his perceived victory to notice,
“You know you can’t do anything about it.”
His former mentor’s cold voice was filled with confidence and cruelty.
Legs sucked in a sharp breath as a newfound strength flowed through him like molten iron. He glanced outside, then back at Olsted. He urged his mana to form the iron shield, he may be willing to give one of his own lives to end this threat for good, but he was not about to sacrifice his friends. He let out one final steadying breath as the shield solidified,
“Maybe not,”
He flung the sturdy hunk of iron out the broken window as hard as he could, down to where he could see the others standing. He struck the match against stone and threw it onto the closest fuse,
“But I can take you with me.”
Legs snapped his hand out towards his old mentor and felt the iron boots on Olsted’s feet respond to his call as he lifted the larger man off the ground and held him against the closest pile of explosives.
The fuse hissed.
He looked Olsted straight in the eye and couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction as the old man’s eyes filled with surprise and a hint of fear. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to enjoy their swapping of roles for long. One second he’s looking at his torturer's face and the next his entire world turned to chaos.
Legs expected it to be quick, he expected to feel some pain of course, he’d been blown up before, but this was nothing like that day in his old lab.
All he knew was searing pain, first flames and shrapnel bit and tore at his body, then he could feel every bone in his body shatter as he was flung into the wall behind him.
He definitely lost consciousness for a few seconds, as the next time he opened his eyes everything was still. He could barely see, one eye was almost completely blind, and the other was barely functioning. He couldn’t hear anything at first, but his ears started to ring loudly and muffled sounds started to register.
The others.
He sucked in a painful breath, the sound was broken and ragged. He strained to move, to hear, to see, to get any kind of confirmation that they were alive. He tried to drag himself forward, or at least what he thought might be forward, any sense of direction was completely ripped apart by the explosion, but his arms wouldn’t move. He tried to call for his friends, but his voice wouldn’t respond. Darkness threatened to swallow the little sliver of consciousness he was clinging to, he refused to let it go.
Not yet.
He had to know.
He fought with everything he had left to stay awake, he listened for any sound, any sign of them. His efforts paid off as muffled noises pushed through the ringing.
Familiar voices shouted nearby.
It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
They were alive.
He smiled.
He stopped fighting.