At first, nothing changes in the fight. And then the cracks start showing - in helmets, in swords. A hefty swipe with a spear shatters a blade, leaving the guard gaping in angry horror. Slowly the rebels push the guards back as their weapons disintegrate in their hands. Angry shouts ring above the confused swirl of armed rebels and mysteriously disarmed guards, and Wil feels a hand land on his shoulder. "Wil!" He turns. "Cyrward? What?!"