It’s dizzying. We go slamming through doors, into empty cells, into new hallways where panicked shouts greet us. Five takes every opportunity to throttle me against a wall or a ceiling or the floor. It’s hard to tell sometimes just which surface my ribs are cracking against, it’s so disorienting. I catch a glimpse of Nine sprinting along behind us and realize that he’s running on the walls, using his antigravity Legacy to keep from having to plow through any bystanders. Five must see him, too, because he doubles back, and we streak towards Nine like a meteor. Nine has to dive out of the way to avoid getting crushed or burned, and, before he can recover, Five has zipped us around another corner.

I’m on my own here.

Thanks to being fireproof, I’m not concerned with Five’s literally flaming skin. It’s the way his hands are crushing my windpipe that I really have to worry about. Every time Five dashes me against a new surface, his grip slackens a bit, and it gives me a chance to breathe. With the way he’s buffeting me around, it’s a constant struggle to keep getting oxygen.

“Beloved Leader came to me in a dream!” Five shouts right into my face. The socket of his missing eye is completely filled with fire. “He said he’d forgive me if I told him how to find you. I told him I’d do even better and kill you myself!”

A snarl of rage builds in my aching throat. Enough!

I pound both of my fists down on Five’s forearms in an effort to break his grip. He grunts but doesn’t let go of my neck. We go careening into a wall, then the ceiling, always with me cushioning the hit for Five.

I lean my head back, make sure my eyes are aimed directly at Five, and let loose Daniela’s stone-vision.

He’s too fast. As soon as the beam leaves my eyes, Five gets one of his hands up to block me from blasting him full in the face. That’s one less hand around my neck, though. Five lets out a creepy little laugh as his hand turns to stone, then mashes that newly leaden appendage right into my face. He keeps the pressure on, covering my eyes so that I can’t get off another shot with the stone-vision.

Still, it’s an opening. I can breathe now with only one of Five’s hands holding my throat. Not only that, but I’ve managed to gain some leverage. I grab him around the neck and twist, spinning us so that he takes the brunt of the next fall. We crash into something—it must be the floor, I still can’t see—and I immediately make sure that I keep Five pinned. In control now, all my weight thrown against Five, I throttle him against the floor over and over.

His stone hand drops away from my eyes, and I can see the look of pain cross his face. The flames covering his body blink out, leaving behind fragile, normal skin. I don’t stop. I keep slamming him. Now it’s Five gasping for breath.

“John—John—look down!” he manages to wheeze out.

Another trick, probably. But there’s something about the way Five says it, all that malice gone from his voice.

I glance down and see the floor, fifteen feet below us. I’m not slamming Five against the ground at all; I’m pressing him against the ceiling.

I’m flying. In complete control.

“You said—you said heat of the moment,” Five croaks. “I thought some motivation might—might help you learn. Do it—do it by instinct.”

I don’t know what to say. I let a deep-breath whistle through my teeth and my fury dissipates, while still holding Five against the ceiling. Slowly—in control now—I float us down to the ground. I glance around. We’re in a hallway in the infirmary section of the base. It’s all but deserted over here. Distantly, I hear footsteps racing down a nearby hall. Probably Nine and the soldiers trying to catch up.

“There were better ways to do that,” I say, turning to Five. I ignore the fact that he’s completely naked, all his clothing having burned off when he turned his skin into fire.

“Can’t argue with results,” Five replies, hunched over. He holds up the hand I turned to stone in front of his face. I can tell by the way his arm muscles flex that he’s trying to move his fingers but isn’t able. “This feels weird.”

Five turns his entire body to stone to match his hand. When he turns back to normal, the stone hand stays the same. He frowns.

“Shit. Is this permanent?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I could try healing it.”

“Please do,” he says, and holds out his hand.

I take Five’s arm and let my healing Legacy pour into it. It takes a little more effort than normal; my Legacy has to work through the cold stone and find some live tissue to rebuild. Eventually, the stone starts to crumble away, revealing smooth skin underneath.