Ken grabbed Darrel’s free arm and started pulling, the two of them forcing Darrel’s secured arm to stretch across the street. When they were on the other side Ken grew his roots once more, now fixing Darrel’s feet in place. Darrel noted how the energy visibly drained from Ken’s body, he was sweating and breathing quite heavily. Growing new branches and roots must take a lot out of him, Darrel reasoned, that’s why before he only used the spikes. 

“Ok.” Ken confirmed, “You’re secure now. So let’s give it a shot, Slingshot!” Ken laughed a little, shaking his head to head to get his focus back. Darrel nodded and gave him a smile in return.

With that Ken headed to the center of Darrel’s stretched arm, leaning back in and beginning to push back with his heels. It was impressive how much this limb could stretch, Ken noted, as he was able to pull it a good few meters back. 

Darrel clutched a drainpipe with his free hand, and looked solemnly at Ken. He was preparing himself for the launch; he grew two more barky spikes from his arms, fitting them together to make a massive wedge. This isn't gonna work, Ken, Darrel thought. Your angle is right, but your power won't be enough. My arm won't have enough snap. This kid is gonna faceplant. 

Unless....

“Ken!” Darrel called out, attracting the attention of the boy. “Give me a countdown!”. 

Ken smiled. “Roger, Houston!”. Ken was holding Darrel's tense arm to the ground with his foot, rooted lightly to the tarmac. His other foot he placed behind, ready to spring off it, breaking the seal and releasing the ‘slingshot’. Ken started counting, and Darrel prepared. 

“3… 2… 1!” 

On the mark, Ken broke the seal, and Darrel pulled all his force into retracting his arm. He felt his bones again; his quirk-powered muscles straining back to their natural shape. Ken shouted as he exploded from his startpoint, powered by the force of Darrel’s retraction. 

---

Ken flew through the air for a few seconds before contact. The robot wasn't too far, but it was still a journey towards the things “head”. Ken now realized that wood vs metal probably wouldn't win in his favor, but strong jabs were able to punctuate the little ones. He hoped it would be the same for the big guy too. 

His wood spike didn't just penetrate, but completely shredded the interior of the bot. Ken actually fell inside the robot, onto a narrow flat piece of machinery. Inside was a hollow space that he almost would have fallen into if his wood spike didn't lodge into this tough iron sphere. He could see all the interior parts moving and bending as the robot staggered forward. There was a hiss, and a small drone whirred up behind him, looking at the hole he had just made, and the boy inside it.

“Heya there,” Ken smiled nervously. His embedded arm started to shake; the iron sphere, suspended to the sides of the bot with wires and coils, was heating and trembling. Ken noticed a message painted into it  he hadn't before; 

AXILLARY POWER

DO NOT TAMPER

“Uh oh.” he muttered, breaking off the wooden spike that had apparently pierced the secondary power supply. He heard a click just as he broke free, and turned to see the drone popping out a nozzle. He had seen the drones before; they fired these little bean-bag balls at high speed, leaving some nasty bruises. And now it was lining him up.

He jumped out the back of the robot, grabbing the drone’s nozzle with his hands. It sputtered, dipping from the weight; and the large robots auxiliary power finally gave out. It detonated, sending scraps of metal flying in all directions from the blast, its broken iron sphere collapsing into its own body and serving to break all its internal limbs and joints. 

Ken’s drone got hit by the shrapnel, and within moments, he was plummeting to the ground.

---

Darrell's arm wobbled with the after shock, breaking his previously secured hand free, swinging back towards Darrel who had started grappling with the roots his legs were in, tearing them up and then running forward, dragging his stretched arm behind him. The enemy had haltered, a hole torn open in its head. Ken made it! But where was Ken? -- wait, there he was! He had jumped from the hole he had made, and grabbed one of the flying bots mid-air.

“What a weird way to take down a…”

Darrel was interrupted by the large bot’s head exploding, a huge shockwave of metal and smoke fanning out. Darrel saw Ken’s body shudder; then he was falling from the sky. 

Darrel rushed forward, pulling his arm behind him. He wouldn't be there to catch Ken, but maybe...

“Ken!” he yelled, spinning mid run. His lengthened arm spun behind him, and he jerked his shoulder, throwing it forward and upwards. He still had some movement in the muscles; he strained to reach upwards, towards the boy. The hand was just too short; but Ken compensated, growing roots from his wrist to capture Darrels’ hand. Wasting no time, he retracted his arm, forcing it back with a snap.

Ken’s trajectory instantly shifted, as he was pulled towards Darrel. Darrel braced; Ken’s body hit his, and they both flew backwards, rolling on the street a few times. 

Ken glanced up. “Darrel, hey Darrel, you alright??” He tried to stand, but his ankle betrayed him. It stung and puffed up, having been jumbled in the rolling fall.

Darrel sat up, holding his head. “Agh,,, yeah,,,, my body has a certain amount of “give”, cuz of my quirk. Rubber and all that..”

“Well,” Ken smiled, giving a thumbs up. “It broke my fall. Thanks!”

They heard a huge metallic crack, and the giant robot froze. Its limbs paused, and it kareened forward. Participants before it shouted and ran, narrowly escaping the collapse of its body onto the central city intersection. The impact sent a shudder through the ground, and a column of smoke to rise as the robot caught fire.

“Whoa” Darrel said, wide eyed. “You did it”

“We did it!”” Ken corrected, pumping the air before collapsing back onto his back.

Darrel smiled, but then noted a growing whirring sound. He looked up, and staggered to his feet when he saw the dozen or so flying drones making their way towards them. They seemed to follow some sort of “wasp” protocol; if the “nest” is destroyed, then find the ones responsible. And here they were, defenseless on the street. 

Ken looked up, and sighed. “Aight.” He sat up, raised his arm and grew a sharpened wooden splinter from it. He broke it off, making a fairly sizable wooden spear. 

“Yo,” he called, throwing the spear to Darrel, “These ones are easy, so I'll leave ‘em to you!”

“What??”

“Just aim for their little propellers; It's the weak point. Look out though,”

A bean-bag ball struck Darrel in the back of the head, ricocheting off his rubber. “GAHH” he cried, wincing.

“,,, they've got bean-bag guns. It's alright, your rubber can probably absorb the impact!” Ken leaned back on his arms, panting; he was pretty dehydrated, so it wasn't like he could help out much. 

“It still hurts!” Darrel protested, getting another 2 beanbags in the back. He spun around, figuring facing them would be better than being targeted blind. They had dropped in altitude and raced over the ground, guns at the ready; staying at head height against ground combatants to make it more fair. Each gun was focused on the candidate most ‘formidable’, or in this case, the one holding the weapon.

“You got this!” Ken cheered, immobilized by his ankle. “I'll watch your back.”

Darrel got pounded by 3 more bean bags, the Drones now swarming him. He lashed out at them, managing to snag one and smash it into the ground. In retaliation, its buddies unleashed another volley onto the poor boy.

“There you go!” said the very unhelpful Ken.

 “Only a few more minutes left to go!”

Examination results 

Darrel Clovers, Score: 55: Pass

Ken Hill, Score: 70: Pass