It was probably the most difficult compound that Diego could construct within a reasonable timeframe. All in all, it only required hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, but the structure of the hydrogen and oxygen molecules was no simple thing to achieve, needing to be organized into three hydroxyl groups and then merged with white fuming nitric acid. Certainly, it wasn’t Dimas’ area of expertise, but he at least had to give Diego credit for being able to pull something like that off in the middle of combat.
And of course, even after construction, nitroglycerin was wildly unstable. Mishandling was liable to get himself killed, so it was a testament to his confidence that he would do it now, when a mistake would mean harming Yangéra as well.
Dimas just tried to focus on pinning Melchor down while Diego worked. It was nearly impossible. The two remaining Redwaters tried to assist again, but a ceiling of spikes finally claimed them. And it would have claimed Dimas and Joana, too, if he hadn’t slowed its descent with a gravitational wall.
As Melchor reared back for another attack, Diego lobbed his three severed fingers at him. One missed, but the other two were on target, making contact with the tattered suit that still clung to Melchor’s vague form.
All three explosions went off at once. They were even stronger than Dimas anticipated. The chamber didn’t just tremble; it spasmed, violent enough that Dimas nearly lost track of everyone despite the gravitational shield he’d placed over himself and the children. A wall of chromium stood before them as well, thanks to a crouched and cringing Joana, and Dimas could see Emiliana covering Marcos and Ramira with her own body.
The shock wave had smashed Diego against the rear wall, but the man was already picking himself up and healing so rapidly that, in a moment, he’d only have earned himself a bit of mussed hair and a few blood stains on his t-shirt.
An impressive hole now lay in the upper corner of the room, ushering smoke to the outside. The lamp that had been providing light was in pieces as well, leaving only the rainy gray sky for illumination. Diego ignited his fingertips in order to supplement that.
Dimas could see Melchor’s form through the smoke and dust, still alive and churning. He made a fist and punched through the south wall again, knowing that the best possible use of this downtime was to ensure that the Elroys escape.