Dyson suddenly pulled out a dark wooden plaque from who knows where. The plaque already had an S carved on it. On the balcony beside him, another plaque stood with the letter L. "Have you lost your mind? What is this, some kind of funeral ritual?" Caroline said coldly. She readied herself for an attack. Dyson just kept smiling his creepy smile. He looked thinner now, almost handsome, but holding that plaque he looked grim among the rows of wooden plaques. "Have you ever thought this might be my ability?" Dyson said with a grin. He lifted another plaque from the floor. Caroline felt something appear by her side. Years of battle sharpened her instincts—she dove aside instantly. Dyson stayed where he was, smiling. Then he began to mime attacks. Caroline felt wind from fists all around her, but she could not see anyone. One time she was a beat slow, and a phantom punch sent her flying. Dyson stood back, clutching a plaque, and pretended to throw punches. "My ability is special," he said. "If I kill someone, that person becomes my puppet. Invisible, but a puppet. Their ability becomes mine. I stand far away, make attack motions, and an invisible person fights you in front of you. "Caroline, I never had big dreams. But this ability changed that. It became my dream. I want more power. I want your ability and Tyler's ability. "So I have to kill you." A hint of longing crept into his voice. Caroline looked at him. Though Dyson had lost weight, that same unsettling smile from his heavier days still lingered on his face. It was the kind of smile that came from someone always watching, always calculating—carefully matching his expression to whatever emotion he wanted others to see. From the first time she met Dyson, she always felt he existed but never much. He was the kind of man who craved attention and loved to show off, yet somehow spent his whole life living for everyone but himself. Even now, saying his ability was his dream sounded like nonsense to her. "You want to kill us? Then go ahead and try." Caroline smiled coolly. She opened her Zero System and picked an ability. Without hesitation she spat dozens of fireballs at the plaques. The plaques turned to ash fast. When the flames neared the house, she used her ability to put them out. She did not know if Dyson's power was tied to those plaques. She burned them first and asked questions later. When Caroline set the plaques ablaze, Dyson tried to stop her with his ability, but failed. She had been through too many battles to be easily caught off guard. Even when she couldn't see her enemy, she could read Dyson's movements and dodge his strikes with precision. She could tell this new attack came from someone tougher than before. A wave of heat rushed toward her, and when her sleeve brushed against it, the fabric hissed and began to corrode. Dyson was using an ability he had taken from someone dead. It had corrosive properties. Caroline frowned. Too bad. If she could copy that ability, it would be useful. She burned most of the plaques. Only the two Dyson still held remained. But his power kept working. His ability was independent of the plaques. "Burning my collection won't help," Dyson said with a grin. "I keep those plaques so I remember who I killed. It helps me organize which abilities to use. If you burn them, I'll just carve new ones later." Caroline said nothing. During the fight she closed in on Dyson. She tried to stab his neck with an ability. But an invisible wall seemed to block her. Her attack could not pass through. "You see," Dyson said, smiling. "I have many abilities. You do not even know which one I am using. You cannot beat me like this." Caroline stayed silent. She rolled her wrist slightly. A small yellow snake slid down her leg and slipped into the shadows to approach Dyson. "Tyler might find this place soon," Dyson said. "Taking on both of you will be tough—so I'll finish you off first."