Ozone and smoke filled the air around an ever growing pile of rubble. Julie found herself redirecting the ever increasing blasts of lightning that erupted from Pietr’s hands. Beau was dodging them and firing back with what appeared to be little difficulty. His face was a mask of concentration, but his movements were deliberate and strangely just adequate to keep him out of harm’s way.
“When this is over,” Beau said, through clenched teeth, “I’m going to need you to knock me out.”
Julie could only nod. He was doing something. He had concocted something that was drawing down his levels of serotonin and dopamine so low that his brain was going to be on fire. The second his focus was off of trying to kill Pietr, he might try to kill himself.