Noah barely had time to breathe before the situation turned from bad to worse.
The ones he had taken down were getting up.
Not just groaning and stumbling—no, they were recovering.
Because they weren't normal humans.
Noah had known that, logically. Everyone here had powers. Humanity had evolved past simple flesh and bone, and these guys were proof of that.
But he was experiencing it in the worst way possible.
His fists clenched.
All seven of them, minus their leader, were ready to go all out now.
The one who had cratered the pavement was already flexing his ability—molding the broken rock into thick, jagged boxing gloves around his fists.
'That's going to hurt.'
He needed to take at least two of them down before things spiraled completely out of control.