You can’t take the power–it’s too much!

You col­lapse to the ground, glow­ing an eerie light, of uniden­ti­fi­able color.

It’s not quite a pain… it’s some­thing else en­tirely. A rip­ping, as if your body is tear­ing it­self limb-from-limb–but ei­ther you can’t feel it through your power-filled daze, or it is some­thing so be­yond pain that it can’t man­age to hurt at all.

It’s too much–you try to spend some.

You shoot flame out of your hands.

Whoosh! Well, now the room’s on fire.

Great work. Es­pe­cially since you’re still stuck on the floor, un­able to do much more than twitch a mus­cle. You can feel the fire lick­ing at your an­kles… but it’s al­ready spread to the walls.

You try wa­ter. Well, now you’re drown­ing–three feet of it fill the room, sub­merg­ing you.

Not to worry, it’s not like the house is wa­ter­tight, right?

But it’s tak­ing much too long to drain, so you try mak­ing a bub­ble of air.

So much for a bub­ble–un­less your de­f­i­n­i­tion of “bub­ble” is “room-sized”–and it’s not.

The fire, still burn­ing the walls, steals the oxy­gen away in a bril­liant ex­plo­sion that, had you not been un­der­wa­ter, surely would have killed you.

On the plus side, the house is now gone, so it is no longer trap­ping wa­ter for you to drown in…

But you’re still stuck on the ground.

You man­age to roll over onto your back, but then–

Pop! Pop! Pop pop pop!

Dozens of shad­owy forms pop into ex­is­tence around you, seem­ingly shadow them­selves.

You try to move, but you just can’t, stuck on the ground as you are. They all jump at once, and sur­round you.

All goes black, and you know no more.