The 40th floor shook violently.
From above, a body fell—a comet of muscle and fire.
E smashed through the ceiling, landing in a crater of broken stone, blood streaming from his eyes, fists glowing red with power.
"Room for one more?" he said, staggering to his feet.
They rushed to him.
Cam scanned his vitals—off the charts.
"You OD'd."
"I had to. They wouldn't stop."
He tossed something across the floor.
A Triplet's mask.
"Two more to go," he said, coughing.
John grinned. "You always had dramatic timing."
"Wouldn't miss the finale," E replied. Then collapsed.
Cam hooked him up to a portable regeneration unit. It hummed softly as it stabilized him.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Speen handed E a half-joint. "Want a bump?"
E smirked. "You know me too well."
They shared it, like they had a thousand times before.
The tower shook again. Louder. Deeper.
Final level above.