The moment Wash went down, there was a Nox on top of him. Combat training a decade old kicked in hard - when something with teeth was on top of you, that usually meant Covenant and that usually meant dead - and he whipped an elbow back, driving it into the creature's face. He rolled with the inertia, slamming the Nox's head into the concrete, and rolled again to get a knee under him-

Just in time to see Bones fall and Greg and Casey hit the pavement. The Nox wasted no time surging past Wash and swarming his friends, going after them with fangs bared and he-

And he was useless. He couldn't fight the Nox- he couldn't even hold them off long enough for his friends to escape, and now they were going to die along with him, and it was all his fault.

No- No, he had to do something- there had to be something- anything-

He couldn't let them die!

His control faltered and failed. Something inside him - something he'd been looking for since he'd arrived - something he wasn't even sure he had - snapped, pouring out energy that had been building up, untapped, for months. He got his feet under him and started to stand, reaching out for them as though it would make a difference-

And the air around him exploded, billowing out in a concussive force that bowled some Nox over and tore into the rest, even reaching far enough to damage the rift.

Wash swayed as a wave of exhaustion rolled over him and dropped back to his knees, catching himself before he hit the pavement. What had- how had- had that been him?!

Somehow, that didn't seem physically possible.