Epic Clash - COMPLETE!

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

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Thomas staggered back a little, not in pain, but from lack of balance. His foot hit a stray stone, and he tumbled to the ground, his eyes a pure white, darting back and forth, staring at nothing at all.

Thomas' mind echoed with shouts:
Greg: "It was a logical reaction!"
Eric: "You know damn well what we've done is wrong!"
Walt: "What kind of person are we to be?!"
Bern: "Would you have rathered we died where we stood?! He'd've seen to that!"
Walt: "I'd rather die than keep on going like this!"
Greg: "We are the logical choice to survive here!"
Eric: "Shove your logic, I'm talking right and wrong!"
Greg: "Is saving more lives really a question of right and wrong?!"
Walt: "What of the long run, Greg?! How many lives will Spender or Michelle go on to save?!"
Eric: "Yeah! What about the long-term impacts of our various lives! Can you really claim to predict that?!"
Greg: "I- It's the-"

Thomas' eyes shifted, first to a bluish hue, then to more of a grey. His twitching subsided a bit, but he still appeared to be having something close to a seizure.

Bern: "Shut it, you two! Do you really want to die, here and now?! We're millions of light-years from home! Are you so eager to die out here?!"
Eric: "Even if we make it home, it'll be over a trail of bodies!"
Bern: "Would you rather BE one of those bodies?!"
Walt: "If those are our two choices, yes, I'd choose death!"
Bern: "Well you're a coward, that's why!"
Walt: "Who's the coward, one who accepts death or one who flees it?!"

Spender took a step back, pulling the field away from Michelle. "See?"

A puff of air tickled his ear, as though someone had blown into it, and he turned instinctively, seeing Thomas laying, twitching on the ground. He took a step toward him, and as soon as he came into the field, a cacophony of emotions, thoughts, and ideas hurtled at him, all indistinct and blurring together.

With what little advantage he'd gained, Eric mustered all the control he could manage. While the rest of his body lay twitching, his eyes bore into Spender's, and one thought, one idea burned to the forefront. There were no specific words, no particular phrase, but the meaning was clear.

Spender took several steps back, making sure the field was clear of Thomas. His hand went instinctively to the holdout coin stashed on his left shoulder- Commune with Spirits.

"What's wrong with him?", Michelle asked, standing clear of both of them.

"His minds are in conflict," Spender replied, "and he asked me- well, one of him asked me to go in and help."