Americommando struggled against the invisible force holding him aloft, his muscles bulging as he thrashed in midair. His boots kicked uselessly, and his gloved fingers curled into fists as he strained to break free. But Joseph's control over his anti-gravity field was precise, unyielding.
"Let me down and fight like a man!" Americommando growled, his voice thick with frustration.
Joseph tilted his head, considering. "Yeah, see, I was doing that. And then you decided to be annoyingly durable. So now? Time for plan B."
With a flick of his wrist, Joseph sent three rapid-fire Nova Force bolts straight into Americommando's chest. The golden-yellow energy flared brightly against the darkness of the desert night, each impact sending a concussive shockwave through the air. Dust and debris kicked up around them, the sheer force shaking the ground.
But Americommando barely flinched. The first bolt made him grunt, the second made him wince, but by the third, he was grinning through the pain.
"That all you got?" he taunted.
Joseph narrowed his eyes. "Not even close."
He clenched his fists, letting the Nova Force concentrate and burn hot around them. The golden energy crackled like fire, wrapping his hands in pulsating power. He flexed his fingers, feeling the raw force surging, then shot forward like a bullet, his speed blinding.
Americommando saw him coming and raised his arms to block, but Joseph was faster.
His fist connected with Americommando's jaw like a thunderclap. The sheer force sent the self-proclaimed patriot flying backward, his body twisting mid-air before he crashed into the rocky terrain with a deafening impact. A crater formed beneath him as dust and shattered stone erupted into the air.
For a moment, silence.
Joseph hovered, watching Americommando's unmoving form. His enhanced senses scanned for a heartbeat—there it was, strong but sluggish. He was down. Knocked out cold.
Joseph exhaled, letting his anti-gravity field drop, and Americommando's limp body slumped into the crater. "Alright. That's done. Now let's—"
Then he heard it.
Gunfire. Screams.
Joseph's stomach twisted. He spun toward the sound, his enhanced vision locking onto the source. In the distance, near the makeshift shelters of the encampment, shadows moved frantically. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness, followed by panicked shrieks.
Minutemen.
His mind barely had time to process it before his body was already moving, launching himself through the air at breakneck speed.
He arrived in seconds, skidding to a stop on the cracked, dry ground. The scene before him made his chest tighten.
Several Minutemen were advancing through the camp, their rifles raised. The people scattered, some trying to flee, others frozen in fear. A few bodies already lay motionless on the ground, unmoving.
Too late. He had taken too long.
Rage surged in his veins, but he shoved it down. He couldn't afford to lose control.
One of the Minutemen turned, spotting him. "Shit! The—"
Joseph didn't let him finish. He flicked his hand, sending a concussive Nova Force blast that sent the man flying into a rusted-out truck. The remaining gunmen whipped around, opening fire.
Bullets whizzed toward him, but he barely needed to think. His anti-gravity field flared, shifting the projectiles' trajectories so they sailed harmlessly past him. He shot forward, slamming his fist—still crackling with Nova Force—into another Minuteman's chest. The man hit the ground hard, groaning before passing out.
Another tried to make a run for it. Joseph lashed out with a beam of energy, striking him in the leg and dropping him instantly.
Within moments, the remaining attackers were down. The only sounds left were the crackling of fires and the distant cries of the wounded.
Joseph turned, scanning the area. Some of the camp's inhabitants were peeking out from behind overturned crates and makeshift shelters, fear in their eyes. Others cradled the fallen, whispering in grief.
His hands curled into fists. He hadn't expected more Minutemen in the east. And he hadn't been fast enough.
He took a breath, forcing the guilt down. He'd let himself get caught up in the fight, wasted time trading blows when he should've been here, stopping this before it even started.
No more hesitation. No more wasted time.
Joseph exhaled and tapped his earpiece. "Captain Atom. Americommando is down. Minutemen neutralized. But there are casualties."
There was a pause, then Captain Atom's voice, grave. "Understood. I'll finish up here and rendezvous with you shortly."
Joseph looked over the camp once more, jaw tightening.
He would be better next time. He had to be.