As I was midair, hauling sheet metal at the enemies, I felt the connection sever. He was down, bleeding from his abdomen. I whirled over, panic settling in.

“Oh my God. How-?” I asked, trailing off. I knew why he had bled. Why our mind connection had been destroyed. He’s been taking collateral pills, I thought, with anger filling my mind. Those pills were incredibly dangerous. They’d been designed to essentially be “anti-superhuman”. They could reduce, or even remove powers from a superabled being.

I crouched over his body, ignoring the rapidly increasing puddle that my boots are in. I cast a gentle hand over the gash, and it healed instantly. Or so I thought. He stood, insisting he was fine. Just then, when I thought all calm had been restored, i remembered why we were here in the first place. It was a little bit late, though, because the last thing we both saw was a truck hurling towards us.