The two had gone according to plan, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Merlin scowled and walked toward the cafe, sensing a growing anger in the dust. Civilians screamed and ran in all directions, but he didn't care. They were about to scream a whole lot more. The target emerged from the cafe, clothes tattered and ripped, the whole side of his face covered in blood. He locked eyes with Merlin and growled. The air around him flamed up as he sent a blast of fire barreling towards Merlin. Merlin raised his hand and braced himself as the projectile smashed against his invisible shield. He sent a pulse to the other two to notify them he's distracted and they should attack. The heat from the spell made his skin red, but he held his ground.

Spero took a deep breath. Thankfully, the unknown target did not seem inclined to attack him. He took another deep breath, and then another. He was tingling, all over, and it brought back unpleasant memories when he first gained his power- when he would accidentally begin electrocuting himself, unable to stop or control it. He had worked on it and worked on it, forcing himself into seclusion, and now that he was actually out on the field, he worried he might lose control of it again. But he forced his doubts down, swallowing his fears, and quickly wiped the beginning of a tear. None of that- he might hurt himself with that big of water. He wiped it on his pants, and then stood up, without letting himself think about it. He summoned another two bolts of electricity, crackling and whipping up and down his arms, darting to nearby metallic objects and back, and then he let a path of ions gather in a line towards his target, and let loose his power. Electricity darted through the path, shooting down it too fast to be seen, and two more rolling booms of thunder shook the area. His two best strikes yet- the thunderclap shattered the nearest glass, letting the thunder be followed by a smash-and-crack, and then the musical tinkling of glass, as the two bolts darted to the target. It didn't matter if he had reflexes, if he knew what was coming. Lightning wasn't a bullet- it constantly seeked to enter and go through something, to find something that it could squeeze into and be absorbed. Even if the bolt went right by, it would still adjust, finding the wetness of our bodies, the such complex chemical makeups, so appetizing, so appealing, and the lightning would hit anyways. It was just the question of- How strong was he? Could he take it? He hoped not- this might be over quickly if he wasn't strong enough, and might drag on endlessly so if he was.