"Shut<span style="font-style: italic">up</span>." Trace calmly, the tone of voice he used not fitting for a person who was getting hit as hard as he was.  A hand covered in black stone suddenly shot up out of the dust cloud, grabbing Garret by the throat. A second one then blocked Alex's strike with ease, crushing the blade within seconds, following it up with grabbing Alex's wrist with enough strength to cause him to drop his nuke. "I don't care about you insulting me, and I understand you attacking me." The anger in his voice had been replaced, with a far more subtle venom, as the dust around him begun to clear. As it did, the reason for his lack of response to Garret's attacks became obvious. The black stone he controlled completely covered him, forming a second skin of armor, completely smooth and detail-less. Even his face was completely covered, smooth and blank, making him appear as a moving silhouette.<br/><br/>"But don't fucking insult me with these<span style="font-style: italic">pathetic fucking attempts you stupid shitheads."</span>With that, he threw Alex with as much force as he could muster into a nearby house, causing him to crashing through the front wall, and slammed Garret into the ground, before stomping onto his chest. "When all you can do is tear my clothing to shreds, while only being able to scratch me by taking me by surprise...how are you not ashamed by being that fucking<span style="font-style: italic">weak</span>?" He asked, stomping on his chest again and again. Grinding his booth into Garret's chest, he ripped off what of left of his shirt and jacket, Garret's attack at least doing a good job of destroying that. He looked, and despite the fact his eyes was not visible, the glare he was sending towards Alan could still be felt. "This what what you had? Pathetic. Honestly, Alan, are you trying to get these two killed? I mean...that would be like you, but I thought you at least had the common decency to do it yourself, and not send them off to their death. That's just cruel." He laughed, kicking Garret in the side of the torso. He bent down, speaking low enough that only the hunter could hear him. "Man, your parents must be fucking ashamed of you." He stood back up, stomping down on Garret's face. He faced Alan once more, and waited to see how he would respond.<br/><br/>Alan stood still, thinking, trying to come up with something. He was sure Alex and Garret would have been able to take care of him...but he completely stopped them. Not to mention, his physical appearance was honestly kind of unnerving now. He had been glared at before, but being glared at without seeing the face doing it was...disconcerting to say the least. Alan gulped, holding the knife in his hand. If two nukes couldn't break through his armor, could this small knife do anything? His eyes were still glowing purple, and he felt his powers at work, but why wasn't Trace being affected by them? He couldn't do anything to Trace, and if he tried he was going to die. He begun to shake, all the anger he had draining away, replaced by fear.<span style="font-style: italic">"Am I going to die here? I don't want to die."</span>He realized that all those times he felt like he should have, the actual danger of dying was far away. But right now, it was staring him down, and he was terrified of it.<br/><br/>"What's the matter, Alan? You seem scared! You know, you could run away. You're good at that. Leave behind these two, juuuuust like you left behind your sister." Trace called out, laughing as he stepped forward. He suddenly froze midstep, grabbing his head and letting out an absolutely bloodcurdling scream of pain, Alan's eyes suddenly glowing like a purple inferno. "GAAAAAH! I-I GUESS<span style="font-weight: bold">THAT</span>PISSED YOU OFF, HUH?" Trace shouted through the pain, the feeling of a thousand sword stabbing into every part of his body. He tried to fight back the pain again, and he felt it start to slow recede back, but it wasn't enough. His body was screaming at him, telling him to stop doing whatever it was that was causing it. Trace couldn't do that, but more importantly? He wouldn't "Come<span style="font-weight: bold">ON</span>Alan. Are you even<span style="font-weight: bold">trying</span>? I'm still standing, aren't I?" Trace looked around, and noticed something. People were running away, out of their houses and far from this fight, apparently having decided it had started to become too dangerous to simply stay inside. But none of them seemed to be in pain. He looked down, and Garret didn't seem to be bothered by it either. He looked to the side, where had thrown Alex, and he didn't seem affected either. In the house he had thrown Alex was a woman, cowering in the corner in fear. She was scared, but not in pain. The only person in pain was him. He looked towards Alan, and beneath the stone he smiled, honestly impressed. "You've gotten better. A fucking natural at this killing thing, aren't you?"<br/><br/>"Don't you dare talk about her." Was Alan's only response, slowly moving towards Trace, an unnatural pressure in his chest. He was pushing himself too hard with this, but he didn't care. If using his powers this much was going to kill him, he didn't mind. Not as long as it meant Trace died.<br/><br/>"Don't talk about Alaina? Your sister that you left by herself after you run away like a coward piece of shit after you killed a bunch of people because you were a terrible big brother and let your baby brother play by himself, which lead to him probably dying in the wastelands? Is that who you don't want me to talk about?" He asked, feeling the pain worsen, Alan's eyes growing brighter. "Because I have a lot of thin-"<br/><br/>There was suddenly a loud bang, a bullet smashing into Trace's head, crumpling up and falling to the ground. "Shut up, your voice is annoying as all hell." Jane walked up next to Alan, a quite confident look on her face. "Geeze, I'm gone for a few minutes and they get their ass handed to them. How you doing, kid?" She asked, noting the fact he looked like his eyes were replaced with light bulbs. She also noticed he was shaking and covered in sweat, and she noticed there was an odd paleness to his skin. "You know what, don't answer that." She said, raising her revolver. and slamming it into the back of his head, knocking him up and causing him to fall to the ground, kicking up some sand. She bent down and picked him up with a single hand, her gun still aiming at Trace. "I'll take this pain in the ass, if you don't mind."<br/><br/>"...." Trace was silent, not counting the heavy breathing he was doing as the pain faded away. He stumbled forwards, grasping his chest. When his ability to speak returned, he mid it quite clear he DID mind! "Drop him. Don't think I won't kill you if that what it takes." He said, reaching out his arm, the claws formed by the black claw quite noticeable. He had wanted to kill Alan while he was alive, but at this point he didn't give much of a shit.<br/><br/>At this, Jane burst out laughing. "Haha! You think I'm afraid of you? Please, I've seen dead men I was more scared of than you. Some high-pitched voice brat is about as scary to me as....nothing really. I mean, look to me this kid was handling you by just staring at you really hard, and I can do that pretty easily." She smiled as soon as she noticed Trace begun to move towards her. More importantly, he begun to move away from Garret.<span style="font-style: italic">"Okay, Silver, any time you're ready."</span>She thought to herself. "Granted, if either of you two wants to stand up and help, wouldn't mind it!" She said, hoping that Alex and Garret were just on the floor in pain, and not dead. Them being dead would be bad.