((Sweet merciful bees, I'm alive! And so is this thread (sort of!)))
As the battle began, Danse dove into a hole near the treeline, cowering. Despite the training, and despite his undeniable powers, this scale a battle was just too much for him--he was an infiltrator, not a warrior.
Bullets whizzed overhead, keeping Danse from peering over the edge of the hole, though his superpowered allies were wreaking havoc. His chest rose and fell, partly in panic, partly to draw on some inner fire to spark himself to action.
Danse closed his eyes, teeth clenched.. then he heard JR scream. Fall back?
Danse had some idea.
Still crouched in the hole, back against the mucky earth, he raised his gloved hands near his mouth, breathing into them as if to warm them. But instead of breath, a small ball of flames formed, Danse widening his grasp as the sphere grew in size and intensity.
And then his muscles tensed. Do or die, do and die, he wasn't about to see which as he threw himself over the edge of the foxhole and unleashed a colossal wave of fire. The inferno roared as it coursed across the field toward the German line, a wall of flames that sucked oxygen from the air as it howled ever-forward.
If that, combined with the superpowered onslaught of the Vanguards, wouldn't drive the Germans back then Danse wasn't sure what would.
