Martin knew the Masked would arrive. There wasn't a point in trying to sleep, not when their privacy would be invaded, when their sense of security would be torn. Best to stay sharp for such an occasion.

And they arrive, kicking in the door, the sonic boom shaking the walls of his room, where he'd been reading, not really committing anything to memory of analysis, just a way to pass time. Martin saunters towards the living room first, then runs as he hears an inhuman, piercing voice address the Masked. Bright, stinging blue light flashes and moves in a straight light, the very same that pulses in cracks out of Anders.

Martin will ask about this, later. For now, he's frozen in shock as the Masked take down Anders in an instant, pouncing upon him like beasts to a kill. They won't hurt him, Martin knows, but it's still not pleasant to watch, his teeth gritting into a snarl as they finish, and set their sights on him.

"Get this over with, so I may heal my friends," Martin says as his arms are pulled back, robe pulled up and away until only an undershirt and a pair of loose pants remain. They chip him at his collarbone, tossing him onto the floor, then his robe after him.

Impotent rage threatens to overtake, but Martin drives it down as he props himself upwards, then runs towards Anders, checking his pulse. He'll live. That doesn't mean he'll leave his friends with wounds, so Martin casts a wave of healing magic onto Anders, more than necessary.

He'll do the same for Nathaniel.