I had set my mind on reaching the top of the East-building which was on the other side of the school playground.

  My jump over Clang's out of control cold-storm had been enough to soar over it unscathed.

  As I rapidly fell towards the ground I saw Marbelle running with superhuman strength and power with Clang's giant-metal-slab-sword in her grip.

  And I couldn't see Snap.

  There wasn't any time to do a thorough search, because I landed hard on the playground concrete, rolled, and then jumped again.

  Despite the pain, and the physical and mental exhaustion, I had just enough strength in my upwards leap to bring me to the upper cusp of the East-building roof.

  The adhesion and strength in my right hand hoisted me the rest of the way over.

  For a single, horrifying moment I questioned whether the Sugar-Monster Sweet-Face had also leapt over the cold-storm in pursuit of me.

  Instead, the sugar-monster was nowhere to be seen.

  Fighting Snap somewhere, maybe? I wondered.

  No, I thought.

  My understanding of Sweet-Face told me he was a man who wouldn't go against his word, or at the very least the game he had offered us to play with him.

  The rules of our fight had been established: Clang and I versus Sweet-Face, and nobody else.

  Down below, Marbelle was doing what she could to hold back the spherical cold-storm's progress up the playground. She held Clang's giant-slab-sword in front of her, using the metal as a barrier between her and the cold-storm's fierce winds.

  There's no time, I told myself, concentrate on the special-attack.

  Right, I thought.

  This was it.

  The last move.

  If it failed, so did I.

  I remembered back to Little-Me's drawing. And to The Shops pub where I had witnessed the faintest glimmer of the ability at work before I brought it to an abrupt stop out of an impulsive desire to keep it a secret from Clang and Snap.

  Looking at my right palm, I willed for a ball of resin to form there. After a moment it looked as if I were holding a blue-hued glass tennis ball.

  Now! I thought, knowing there was no time to waste because every moment the Sugar-Monster Sweet-Face wasn't tearing into me was its own miracle.

  I remembered the first time I had bulbed up my hand in the Wedder Gorge facility. The rage and frustration I had felt over George's murder had given life to my suddenly bulbing bright and burning hand.

  That heat, that energy, from whatever source of the power it derived from, was still there somewhere inside me.

  This time, instead of channelling it into my blood and bones, I willed for that energy to surge into the resin-ball held in my right hand.

  The sudden light which filled the resin-ball I expected, but not the weight.

  The more light and energy which flowed out of me and into the resin ball, the heavier the resin-ball became.

  So much so that every muscle in my arm was suddenly flexed from the strength needed to not drop the energized-resin-ball.

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  The cost of using the special-attack was made known to me again, because in order to use the special-attack I needed to give every last ounce of power which remained within me.

  Anything less and I was certain I wouldn't have the strength to execute it effectively.

  But there was still time to back out and find another way to fight the Sugar-Monster Sweet-Face.

  You don't have any other way out of this, I thought, you're not prepared!

  This truth, that I was utterly unprepared for my fight with Sweet-Face, had been made abundantly clear several times over.

  When it had been a test of fighting skill, Sweet-Face had won.

  When it was a test of who could outmanoeuvre the other through clever use of the power, Sweet-Face had been one step-ahead each time.

  And Sweet-Face had done it all in a two-versus-one fight with the odds stacked against him.

  Because of the superiority Sweet-Face had shown throughout the entirety of the fight, I knew without a doubt that my special-attack had to work, or it was all over.

  What I lacked in skill and preparedness I would need to make up for with grit and one last clutch use of the power.

  "Come on! Come on! Come on!" I yelled in my resonating voice.

  The muscles across my body expanded in order to give me the strength I needed to carry out the special-attack. Bulking out my muscles made holding onto the energized-resin-ball easier, but it was obvious that any acrobatics when using this technique was going to be impossible. I could hardly stand and hold the energized-resin-ball, let alone move with any kind of prowess.

  A great thrumming noise filled the air from the power contained within the energized-resin-ball. My body all over was hot, and sweating from the continual effort to keep my right hand from releasing its grip. The ache in my fingers was immense, and I was certain that it was only because of the adhesive quality of my skin that I was able to stop myself from dropping the energized-resin-ball.

  The energized-resin-ball reached peak internal intensity, glowing bright and blue, with what looked like small golden stars twinkling within.

  There were a good deal of unknowns with this new extension of my abilities. How long could I maintain the resin-ball? What would happen if I poured too much energy into the energized-resin-ball that couldn't be contained? Could I even move with the speed and power I needed given how incredibly heavy the energized-resin-ball had become?

  Down below Marbelle was being steadily pushed back by the cold-storm which was continuing to grow in size and ferocity – it was a testament to Marbelle's statuesque body and strength that she was able to keep the cold-storm-sphere's progression up the playground to a slow crawl. The sheer physical toll it had on Marbelle to keep the cold-storm at bay had her screaming at the top of her lungs and her marble feet creating cracks in the playground concrete with each of her retreating steps.

  And there was no sign of the Sugar-Monster Sweet-Face.

  Below.

  This thought flashed in my mind. Whether it was a mere guess, or some part of the Intuition ability warning me, I wasn't sure.

  I took several heavy-footed steps backwards, feeling as if the weight of gravity itself had been increased several times over.

  The rooftop ground directly ahead of me burst as Sweet-Face broke through it.

  But he was no longer the Sugar-Monster.

  He was back to his original marshmallow-covered Sweet-Face form, with his amber-hued candy-canes, in his grip.

  My right-foot struck down behind me.

  This was it.

  All or nothing.

  "Resin-Light-Attack! Hah!" I yelled at the top of my lungs in my resonating voice.

  I'm sorry, I thought.

  I was thinking of Clang.

  He had told me back at The Shops Pub that he wanted to find a way to create an energy blast.

  That was why I had tried to hide the special-attack from him, because on some level I felt guilty for being the first to find a way to do it.

  Using all the strength left in my body, I thrusted my right arm forwards, with the intent to smash the energized-resin-ball directly against Sweet-Face.

  Although I wasn't certain it would work the way I intended, the idea was that the energized-resin-ball, when broken, would burst, and would thereby release all of the power contained within it in one great energy blast.

  What I felt however was a sudden, sharp slice across my right forearm.

  Sweet-Face had seen the special-attack coming a mile away.

  I hadn't noticed when he rose out of the rooftop from below that he was wearing the same sugar-crystal-cape the sugar-monster had worn previously.

  With one nimble leap and twirl through the air Sweet-Face used his sugar-crystal-cape to cut my right arm clean off just above the elbow.

  I saw my right arm spin through the air, and all the power that had been contained within the resin-ball faded away in an instant.

  No great explosion, just the dull thud of my right arm landing atop the East-building roof, with the cold-storm raging further beyond.

  Of course, I thought.

  I hadn't done enough to deserve to win the fight.

  I collapsed to my knees, my body giving out from all the pressure I had put it under in order to attempt to use the special-attack.

  Sweet-Face set the end of one of his candy-canes down on my right shoulder.

  "I wish I could say d'at you fought well," said Sweet-Face, "But d'at would be a lie."

  "Please," I spat out, in complete fear for my life.

  Blood was leaking from the fresh stump-wound at my right arm.

  "D'ere is no mercy in war," said Sweet-Face, "And I only win d'is game when you and your friend are no more. Be happy, for d'is way, your defeat, is my victory."

  Sweet-Face let out a final executioner's cry as he drew his candy-canes over his head, readying his strike.