The "chance" was always more about stalling than anything, the idea that the longer Lazarus could talk to Damon, the more damage to property and people he could curtail. But the grace period's ended as he seizes Misa by the arm and drags her away from the ice-bound monster. The teleporter is the idea he has, if he can shove her through maybe he can still salvage this...

He hears it coming before he feels it. Even if Damon's reigning back, the force of the wave is still enough to knock him off his feet, and even the thick layer of ice he tries to shield them with doesn't protect them entirely. He flings what he can at the impending force as swiftly as he can react, and then they're on the broken, torn ground, the earth turned as if for their graves as their breath comes in ragged gasps and their eyes are dazed as they try to make sense of what happened too fast for a mere human to process.

Lazarus plants his left leg under him to push himself up, reaching for Misa's hand so he can do the same for her without even thinking to look at how badly she's hurt. He starts forward again, but his right leg won't support him and brings him down again, where he stays, having no other choice. A cursory examination shows him a serious burn, with pieces of his black denim pants melted into the wound. It won't support weight, certainly not to run, and therefore, this is where he stays.

He can't look at Misa. He's afraid of what he'll see if he does, if she's charred and blackened and unrecognizable. He doesn't want it to be the last thing he sees. If she's not, though, and she can still run...

"Go! You have to go..." he begs, pulling desperately at her hand.

It's all I want for my birthday, now.