“Maybe you should get down from there,” Skylar said.
“I’m not going to let him choke,” Devonte shouted. He held up his hands and tried to pacify Akuma in the way he always did. “Let me help,” he said, his voice calm and even. “Open your mouth.” He opened his own mouth wide to demonstrate what he wanted.
Skylar stood on the side and watched the events unfolding when something caught her eye. Akuma’s tail was sparking with blue lightning as it thrashed about. Fissures between the scales emitted a light that grew in intensity from a muted blue to almost white in color. As she watched, she felt the temperature in the room rise. She turned to Devonte, mouth hanging open as she realized what was happening, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Akuma made another choking sound.
“What’s wrong?” Devonte asked the creature.
The next few seconds were a blur. She bolted at Devonte, knocking him from the chair and audibly knocking the wind out of him. The words “what the fu—” were drowned out by a sound like thunder. A beam of energy so hot she thought the skin would melt from her bones erupted from Akuma’s mouth, vaporizing the space where Devonte’s face had been just a few seconds prior. Akuma reacted just as surprised as they had, panicking and jerking its head upward. The energy that had melted a hole in the ground a few yards away now burned through the tent canopy and the ceiling of the hangar. Akuma held this position for what felt like hours before the light around its tail faded, and the beam grew weaker and dimmer until all that remained was a sound like a gas leak that trickled off into silence.
A wreath of electricity coiled around Akuma’s head, which he shook away in irritation. He blinked, that thin reptilian film glazing his eyes momentarily, and turned to look at her and Devonte toppled and tangled together in a mixture of horror and confusion. He scratched at his throat again, grumbled and settled himself on the ground. Almost immediately his breathing slowed, and he was fast asleep.
“That’s very new,” Devonte broke the silence, repeating his earlier sentiment. He looked down at Skylar who lay pressed against him, head turned to stare at the creature. She smelled like cherry and disinfectant. He pushed the thought from his mind. Not the time, he thought, then, with a hint of sadness, not a chance. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “Guess we’re even on the whole saving each other thing, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Skylar said. It took a second, but she also realized that her body was practically draped across his. She leapt up, face a red beacon of embarrassment.
There was an awkward pause, which Skylar eventually broke by saying, “I suppose we shouldn’t be too shocked that Akuma is capable of discharging some kind of energy since both of his parents did it.” She extended a hand to Devonte.
“I’m not shocked by that,” Devonte said, gripping her arm and pulling himself up. He made no comment about the fact that he landed on his injured shoulder, or that the pain had turned his vision blurry. “I’m shocked that I almost lost my head to said discharge.”
“You’re welcome,” Skylar said, then gasped. “You’re bleeding.”
Devonte glanced down at his shoulder. “Yeah, it does that when things get too rowdy. I’ll clean it up after we make sure Akuma’s alright.”
Gunner and Skids burst into the research tent. “What in the goddamn hell…” they said, practically in unison.
“…is going on?” Gunner finished as he noticed the molten hole in the concrete hangar floor and the still burning roof of the tent. He craned his neck and saw the hole in the ceiling that practically dripped down to the floor below. His eyes scanned down the tent landing on Devonte, his shoulder now slick with fresh blood, and the deer in headlights look that he and Skylar both shared.
“Well fuck me sideways,” Skids said, letting out a low whistle. He looked at Akuma. “That thing do all this?”
“Yeah,” Devonte said, struggling to his feet. Skylar lent him a helping hand. “Puberty is hard.”
“All kinds of discharge,” Skylar said.
The two of them couldn’t contain their laughter and broke down into fits of it, clutching their sides and doubling over.
“I almost died,” Devonte said, still cackling. “And you’re making jokes.”
Skylar put a hand on his good shoulder for stability. “I’m sorry,” she said, “the setup was too perfect.”
The two men stared at the cackling researchers with a mixture of fear, concern, and a side of confusion. They gave each other a look.
“I think they’ve lost it,” Skids said. “The stress was too much.”
“It’s the shock,” Gunner said. “Nerves.”
“We’re fine,” Devonte said in between deep heaving breaths. “Just…”
“Just give us a second,” Skylar finished.
“Okay, okay,” Devonte said finally catching his breath. “I’m good. I’m good.” He turned to Skylar. “You good?”
She coughed, sputtered, and then steadied herself. “Yeah.” Another deep breath. “Yeah, I’m good.”
They turned and regarded Akuma, who slept soundly.
“First time is always exhausting,” Devonte said, threatening to send Skylar into another laughing fit. She controlled herself enough to prevent a full-fledged breakdown.
“You gonna muzzle that thing?” Skids asked, interrupting the laughter.
“No,” Devonte said, offended. He regained a more serious composure.
“We’re trying to keep him as placid as possible,” Skylar said, “any restraints beyond the few he seems comfortable with at the moment may trigger a negative response.”
“Like firing a death ray all throughout our hangar?” Gunner asked.
“From what I can tell that was more of an overproduction. Like how baby rattlesnakes can’t control how much venom they inject,” Devonte said.
“That’s actually a myth,” Skylar corrected, “but given Akuma’s alarm it does seem like it wasn’t intentional. I don’t think he knew he could do it.”
“Is the rattlesnake thing really a myth?” Devonte asked.
“Yeah. Babies have less venom,”
