Teamwork wasn't so bad when the other half actually did what he said - or wanted them to do. At least Qilby didn't seem too resigned to it, but a mutual agreement on how to kill the thing did wonders for resonation. Barricade felt like less of a spectator now, taking an active role in injuring the beast even if it was by Qilby's movements.

Under that kind of pressure, the bones didn't last long. The Kishin jerked and thrashed its body, tail slamming against one wall and then the other, trying and failing to get loose. While the rest of its body writhed, its head was immobile, held impossibly in place by the claw and the Meister wielding it. Half mad with pain, it lifted one leg to take a swipe at Qilby, and at that point the bones splintered completely.

The best response Barricade was capable of was laughing, which was even less pleasant to hear than his smile was to look at. The talons went clean through its jaw, the pulverized mess pouring out of its jaw in a flow of gums and teeth and blood. That gave it the freedom to pull back, though it squandered whatever opportunity it had by slamming its head against the cavern wall. How that was supposed to alleviate the pain, Barricade didn't know, but watched it take aim at the other wall and repeat the motion with morbid interest. Kind of reminded him of Starscream after Megatron was through with him.