Waver and Harry had something in common when it came to the lack of stamina. Making his way downstairs two at a time, as a man well over six feet in height was want to do, had his lungs burning and his thighs screaming in protest. Whatever that thing was had looked like it was working on shaking off the fireball Harry had thrown at it which meant he needed to move quickly. There were things a lot worse than death, he had no idea what sort of physics or metaphysics this place adhered to, and Waver's life depended on him making it down to the street before that thing caught up with him.

He cursed himself for not running down more flights of stairs as the burning in his chest reached a fever pitch even as he reached the door leading out to the street. Thankfully, the Second had the presence of mind to bring the thing closer and the huffing wizard stumbling out onto the sidewalk didn't have to go too much farther to level his staff, a seven foot length of uncut wood carved with intricate arcane runes, perpendicular to the ground, aiming at the mutating creature as it closed in. It sprouted tentacles of darkness even as he took aim, and he pulled all his fatigue and pain into himself, focusing it on a non-elemental blast.

"Forzare!" A rippling ball of energy shot from the end of his staff, connecting solidly with the mutating body of the creature, taking it off its manifesting leg-tentacle-things and sending it careening into the brick side of a building two blocks down. He took a steadying breath and tried to pull in more energy for a follow up attack, but he was evidently going to need more time than that, his limbs felt like jelly. He glanced back over his shoulder in Waver's direction, still breathing heavily.

"You okay back there, the Second?"