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Strategist awoke, the dust in his eyes stopping him from seeing clearly. Confused, his hand reached for his face, only to find that his visor was missing, probably knocked away when Positron fired his atomic blast.
Positron. Did he win? Yes, he did. The League was taken down hard. Strategist...did he die? Was he dead now? As his vision cleared, he only grew more confused as he stumbled around, unable to see clearly without his visor.

After sliding down the edge of the rock formation for the fifth time, Strategist began to realize that perhaps the idea of climbing up the edge of a cliff with one arm wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. It then occured to him that even if his systems were shut down for the moment, his manual and self-operating devices wouldn't be, particularly his non-electrical devices. He pulled a grapple gun from his belt pocket, whose antimatter properties had shut down, leaving him with only one tool in each pocket. He fired the grapple, and the diamond-tipped blade cut through the rock and locked in. Strategist hit the button, and the de-cel line extended and stretched a bit before pulling him upwards slowly towards the top of the cliff.

A full day had past, and he'd managed to find an abandoned city in a state of ruin. The buildings were toppled and rusted, and the streets were more dirt than concrete. But he was able to find a few supplies. Nothing that could create a nuclear explosion, however. But he still had his suit. If he could give it a jumpstart, he might be able to analyze the circumstances that brought him there in the first place. That would mean it was time for him to find some kind of power source. Tim continued to think, as he rested his leg on an old, dilapidated coffee table. He was sure it was broken at this point, but the walking stick he'd picked up from the ground had served to be effective enough of a splint now.

A fury like she had never known before rose up in her when she saw Positron's attempt on Strat's life. It was this same emotion that fueled her next attack. She did not know where it came from but power like she had not yet been able to muster in her life fired out of the palms of her hands in two mighty bolts of plasma and headed straight for Positron with such speed and strength that it even threw her back in recoil. She fell to the ground but kept shooting the plasma his way in different forms. Spikes, shards, beams of straight energy as hot as lava, all shooting from her hands as her teeth were clenched in unrestrained rage.

Breathing heavily and exhausted, Katran groaned slightly, as she slowly got up from the ground, grimacing as she rubbed her backside where she had landed hard. She looked at Strat with a scowl. "Your welcome!" she snapped and then mumbled under her breath, "Brat!"
A sudden flood of relief washed over her as it sunk in that he was actually here with her and that he was okay. In an impulse, she grabbed him and hugged his neck for a couple of seconds and then let go. She cleared her throat in embarrassment and looking away began dusting the dirt off of her clothes. "We better get away from this area before Positron comes back."

Positron had almost reached her but Strat had fired the grapple and distracted him from her. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she knew she had better do something quick before Strat was injured even more than he already was. As they struggled, Positron's back was to Katran, she formed a plasma rope and lassoed it at his head with the intent of wrapping it around his neck from behind.

Katran smiled mockingly at his remark as a ball of light formed around her, encasing her in it just as the ice missiles hit, causing them to shatter on contact. The shield around her then lowered as she raised her hand and a beam of bright, blinding light shot from the palm of her hand, straight toward Positron's eyes, just as she raised her other hand and fired a barrage of razor-sharp light splinters, small enough not to kill but to maim.