Shots surrounded around him as everyone on the street scrambled to move out of the line of fire. Henry felt Gabriel's hand grasp his shoulder again, hoisting him onto his feet.

“We need to move, now,” Gabriel said.

“What's happening?” Henry said.

Across the street, the hooded man Henry had spotted before now had a fireball, the size of a basketball, forming between his fingers. Pulling it closer to him, the flames compacted into a fierce white inferno that, with a flick of his hand, catapulted into the building with a flash of fiery red.

“All of this is probably meant for you. We need to run.”

Gabriel was pointing to a woman at the side of the street who held a large metal contraption, scanning the crowd. As her arc moved towards Henry, she slowed, eventually stopping directly on him.

“He's here,” she screamed out.

Following Gabriel's direction, Henry ran down an alleyway packed full of people fleeing the explosion, squeezing in-between them to get through. Protests sounded as Gabriel barged his way past, constantly shouting for Henry to hurry up.

“They are heading down here. Quickly!” The woman screamed from behind them.

Henry didn't look back. It was like trying to make your way across a tube station at rush hour, except now everyone’s incentive was to save their own lives. People fell either side of him, but were soon covered by others desperate to escape. Henry tried to blank the screams from his mind, but they would live with him for a long time. The alley was long and twisted, Gabriel shoving Henry down random offshoots and turns in an attempt to get away.

Finally, the people thinned out and the alleyway opened onto another street, oddly similar to the one they had first seen on entering the under-city. The place was some kind of strangely repetitive labyrinth. He breathed heavily, resting his weight on his knees and bent forward. Henry found himself laughing at his exhaustion and how beyond reason the entire situation was, even his dreams were not this abstract.

“Are you completely inept at physical activity?” Gabriel said.

“What?” Henry said.

“How on earth can you be out of breath?”

“Oh shut up. What happened?”

“Deliverance. They're the terrorist group that are the hunting you. We need to shelter somewhere until I can think of a plan.”

“What was that building?”

“Safety. They knew that was where I would take you and lucky for us, made it there before we did, assumed we were already inside.”

“They blew up that building, killed all those people, to get to me?”

Henry felt sick. How many people had died then? Tens? Hundreds? The initial explosion had killed so many, but then the attack had begun. And in the streets as they escaped, how many more had died trying to get away?

“Inquisitors are difficult to kill once they are trained, their best chance is when you’re green. It's especially rare to find one just transformed and not in an Inquisition strong-hold.”

“I'm not worth that many lives, you should have left me.”

“Don't be a fool, Inquisitors save hundreds if not thousands of lives over their careers. If not for them, this world would fall apart.”

What could Henry possibly do enough to make up for all of those deaths? The faces of those prone on the ground, their eyes lifeless, flashed into Henry's mind and he knew, if he survived this, they would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Gabriel reached into his jacket pocket and then paused, “Probably not safe to call for help.