Syril couldn't waste any time.
Wasting time could mean losing another person who mattered in his life.
Wasting time could destroy the life of his long-time saviour.
Wasting time could mean not completing the mission.
He dashed into the busy streets of Almandale, the Mechabeetle's picture breeding primal urgency.
In no time, he reached the convenience store, thanks to his improved agility.
But as he stood at the entrance, staring at the opaque glass door and reading the "Closed" insignia hung on the door, clarity came.
He remembered what brought him there in the first place—earlier on, he had seen Sherry being maltreated by two goons, rough handled by ability users she couldn't overpower.
Now, he's supposed to stop them? His ability is currently useless now, so, he could only rely on his fists.
Fists against abilities? That was crazy.
