Dylan: "I think I know how the skill works."
Ethan: "Really?"
Dylan: "A brief yellow flash appeared right before each of your attacks, and it only appeared when the dome was active."
Ethan: "Oh... A bit unexpected, but this could be useful if we run into another intelligent goblin."
Elin: "If the flash only appears when the dome's active, then doesn't that mean the dome is the effective range of your skill?"
Ethan: "Then it's a good thing we haven't run into any ranged enemies."
Elin: "Yaaa."
An image of the slaughter on the bridge surfaced, unbidden, in Elin's mind.
The memories resurfaced so suddenly they stole the warmth from her body. Her fingers instinctively wrapped around her fist as a chill ran through her body.
Elin: (Why do I suddenly have this uneasy feeling?)
She quickly looked around, her instincts told her to leave.
Elin: "I think we should head back now. We got what we came for."
Dylan: "Already? Don't we still have plenty of time left, Ethan?"
Ethan: "Umm-"
Ethan: (I was hoping to fight at least one more goblin to confirm my theory, but Dylan's probably exhausted from all the fighting. And Elin doesn't look like she's doing too well either. Did she catch a cold?)
Dylan: "Ethan?"
Ethan: "I agree with Elin. I've got enough PTSD for one night."
Elin: "Ha, same."
Ethan: "We also need to get more wires."
He scooped a piece of the broken wire
Ethan: (This worked much better than I thought.)
Dylan: (Even Ethan's wants to leave? I guess the corpses got to him more than I thought.)
He stretched both his arms overhead, cracking his fingers with a satisfying pop.
Dylan: "Fine..."
Ethan quickly slipped the revolver into his pocket and carelessly hoisted his bag onto his shoulder.
As it settled into place, everything seemed fine for exactly half a second. He was reminded, rather painfully, that gravity was still very much in effect.
He stumbled forward, nearly tripping, having forgotten just how much weight he'd packed in.
Ethan: (Oh, right.)
Ethan: "HEY! Help me carry this thing."
Dylan turned toward him, one eyebrow raised in mock suspicion, and turned acting as though he hadn't heard a word.
Dylan: (You know the drill.)
Ethan: (What? Don't tell me he's mad?)
Ethan hefted the bag, giving it a couple of test tugs, weighing whether it was even worth it.
Ethan: "Ughhh– Would you please help me carry this thing?"
The moment he finished the sentence, Dylan came hopping over, an insufferably pleased smile plastered across his face.
Dylan: "What was that?"
He cupped a hand around one ear.
Dylan: "I didn't quite get that."
Ethan's hand crept slowly toward his pocket, one step away from demonstrating exactly why most countries regulate firearms.
Ethan: "Would you PLEASE carry this FUCKING bag."
Dylan: (Meh, good enough.)
Dylan: "You should've said that from the start."
He puffed out his chest, smile widening.
Dylan: "I'd be more than delighted to help my cute little brother."
He scooped up the bag and hopped off ahead. The weight that folded Ethan in half barely seemed to affect him.
Normally, Ethan didn't mind being called cute — actually— he kind of liked it— but when it comes from Dylan, it somehow felt more like an insult.
Dylan: (That felt good. I should do it more often.)
Elin stood off to the side through all of it, somehow having less details than normal.
Elin: (Sometimes I forget they're brothers.)
Ethan: (Twenty years doesn't sound so bad.)
He clenched his fist, sighed, and fell into step behind them.
They made their way back through the familiar, silent streets toward their makeshift base, the cool night breeze slowly working the heat out of Ethan's temper.
Eventually... A thought popped into Elin's mind something which suprisingly didn't occur to any of them till now.
Elin: "Dylan."
Dylan: "Hmm?"
Elin: "Does your skill have a cooldown?"
Dylan: "Cooldown?"
Ethan: "The time the skill's inactive after you use it."
Dylan: "I–"
Ethan: "Theoretically, no because skills don't inherently have downtime. But technically, yes since activating one takes time and requires a verbal component. I doubt keeping a perpetually active skill is even possible, since skills rely on concentration and mana, or sometimes a secondary condition just to trigger it."
Ethan walked with his head held high, visibly proud of his own analysis, a little too high in fact, and as the saying goes, the higher you climb, the harder you fall. The system itself was probably itching for the chance to prove him wrong.
The other two stared at him in open disbelief, as if he'd started speaking an entirely different language. Neither of their brains seemed willing to process it.
Elin: "I'll take that as a yes."
Ethan: "Weren't you even listening?!"
Elin: "No! I mean no."
Dylan: "Can't argue with that logic."
Elin: "So your skill consumes mana."
Dylan glanced at the screen, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.
Dylan: "It's two mana per activation, and it lasts for aboutttt, say ten seconds?"
Ethan: "It's fourteen seconds."
Elin: (Not that long, then.)
Elin: "How is it that I managed to pay more attention to the timing the the person using the damn skill?"
Dylan scratched the back of his neck.
Dylan: "Ugh– Skill issue?"
Ethan: "It doesn't hold much weight if you don't even know what that means."
Dylan: "Isn't that the thing you yell whenever your teammates mess up?"
Ethan: "How do you know that?"
Dylan: "The walls are no match for your vocal cords."
Ethan: "Fair."
Elin: "Open."
She stared at the screen, fading into disappointment.
Elin: (It's still two.)
Elin: "Close"