Inside the building, we opened the door.  Grue was staring down the last member of this particular group of Nine.  Tall, muscular in the way that suggested he was in his physical prime, with a wild mop of dark hair.  He was masculine in a way that exaggerated the qualities to a fault, with an overly square jaw, massive hands, an almost Neanderthal brow.  It made him look like a bad guy from an old animated film about princesses.  As if echoing that sentiment, a word was tattooed across his chest.

Tyrant.

I recognized the other half of the pair.  Hatchet Face and King together.

Untouchable.  King’s power took any physical harm he suffered and transferred it among his pawns.  People he’d touched within the last twenty-four hours.  Hatchet Face’s power meant we couldn’t even use abilities to circumvent it.  Tyrant here had the enhanced strength each of the two had possessed, the enhanced durability.

...

Foil’s bolts broke the rules.  Apparently his power didn’t work on them.

(Note: Foil's power is one of half a dozen powers in Worm that are absolute. Her crossbow bolts basically attack their targets in all possible realities simultaneously. There is nothing in Worm that can defend against them other than being large enough that a crossbow bolt can't hurt, and her bolts are large.)

Wildbow, Worm, 26.3