The Smoke Gorilla didn't roar. It didn't beat its chest.
It just smiled, its mouth tearing open to reveal rows of jagged, smoky teeth. It looked at Ren like a starving man looks at a steak.
"Back up," Jian ordered, his voice tight.
He shook the plastic spray bottle.
Chhk-chhk.
A fine mist of water hit the creature's face.
For a second, nothing happened. Then, the smoke hissed.
It sounded like raw meat hitting a hot pan. The creature recoiled, clawing at its face as white steam rose from where the droplets had landed. It screeched—a sound like metal grinding on glass that made Ren's teeth ache.
"Ha!" Jian yelled, pumping the trigger again. "It's high-concentration saline, you glorified vape cloud! Back off!"
The creature stumbled back, batting the air.
Ren felt a flicker of hope. "It's working?"
"It's annoying it!" Jian shouted, backing up toward the door. "It's like pepper spray! It hurts, but it doesn't kill—"
The creature stopped screeching.
It lowered its hands. The smoke around its face knit back together, hiding the burns. Its burning white sockets fixed on Jian, then snapped back to Ren.
It ignored the salt. It ignored the pain.
It wanted the Beacon.
The creature lunged.
It moved faster than anything that size should move. It was a blur of black oil and malice, bypassing Jian completely.
"Ren!" Jian screamed.
Ren couldn't run. His legs were frozen. He saw the massive, shadowy hand descending toward him, claws extended. He saw the hunger in those empty sockets.
I'm going to die, Ren thought. Again.
But the memory inside him didn't agree.
Insolence, the memory hissed.
Ren's body moved without his permission. It wasn't a decision. It was a reflex, as automatic as blinking.
His right foot stomped the gravel, cracking the stone. His right hand snapped up, palm open, fingers splayed in a rigid, painful shape.
He didn't speak a spell. He didn't know any words.
He just pushed.
He pushed his will against the air. He pushed his fear into a weapon.
BOOM.
The air in front of him compressed. It wasn't a fireball. It was a concussion. A solid wall of kinetic force slammed into the creature mid-air.
The Smoke Gorilla didn't just stop. It was launched.
It flew backward twenty feet, tumbling over the edge of the roof. It screeched as it fell, the sound fading into the traffic noise below.
Silence slammed back onto the roof.
Ren stood there, his hand still raised, smoke drifting from his fingertips.
Then the pain hit.
"Ah!"
Ren crumpled to his knees.
His nose exploded in blood, dripping hot and fast down his chin. But that wasn't the worst part.
His right shoulder screamed. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to the joint. His arm hung uselessly at his side, sitting at a sickening angle.
"Ren!"
Jian was there instantly, sliding on the gravel. He grabbed Ren's good arm.
"Ren! Look at me!"
Ren looked up. His vision was swimming. He saw two Jians. Both looked terrified.
"Did I..." Ren coughed, blood splattering the concrete. "Did I kill it?"
"You knocked it off the roof," Jian said, checking Ren's pupils. "It'll probably reform in an hour. But right now, we need to worry about you."
Jian looked at Ren's shoulder and winced. "Dislocated. Maybe a torn ligament. The recoil..."
"It felt..." Ren gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. "It felt like I fired a cannon... holding it in my hand."
"You basically did," Jian muttered. He hooked his arm under Ren's good shoulder and hauled him up. "Come on. We're leaving. Now."
"The door..."
"Forget the door. We're taking the fire escape. If the teachers see you like this, they'll call an ambulance. And ambulances ask questions we can't answer."
Ren stumbled, leaning heavily on his friend. The adrenaline was fading, leaving him cold and shaking.
"Jian," Ren whispered as they reached the edge of the roof. "What was that? What did I do?"
Jian didn't look at him. He was scanning the alleys below, checking for shadows.
"You used Shamanic Force," Jian said quietly. "Raw. Unfiltered. Stupid."
He pushed Ren toward the ladder.
"Next time," Jian said, his voice grim, "don't use your own life force as ammo. Because next time, the recoil won't just break your arm. It'll stop your heart."