Don held her gaze for a fraction longer.
Then moved.
Fast.
His arms spread outward in a sharp motion, shoulders rolling as his stance shifted forward. In the sa breath, he snapped his palms together in her direction—
WHUMPH—!
A compressed burst of air detonated outward, the force ripping through the space between them in a focused wave.
Debris still falling from the earlier explosion was caught in it instantly—tal fragnts, ash, dust—all driven forward in a violent surge.
The woman didn’t dodge.
Didn’t shift.
Her head tilted slightly—
Then her hair moved.
It whipped forward in a sudden sweep, strands bunching together into a dense mass that t the incoming force head-on. The impact hit—
THOOM—!
The air burst broke apart against it, splitting and dispersing around her fra as though striking a solid barrier. The force still carried through, dragging her backward several ters in the air, her body sliding with it—
But it didn’t reach her.
Not fully.
Her position stabilized again, hovering higher now, hair settling slowly back around her.
At the sa ti—
The two security personnel beside Don moved.
No hesitation.
They pushed off the ground together, boots scraping as they launched forward in unison, rifles already raised.
Their path cut past the burning wreckage, closing distance with the stitched man who had already regained his footing.
They stopped just outside imdiate reach.
Planted.
Aid.
Fired.
THUD—THUD—THUD—!
Rounds tore from their weapons in rapid succession, the recoil controlled as they tracked center mass. The shots crossed the short distance fast, aid straight for the exposed chest—
The creature didn’t flinch.
Its face remained empty.
Its arms ca up again, crossing over its torso as the rounds hit—
THK—THK—THK—!
So embedded.
So deflected.
None slowed it.
Its pincers shifted forward slightly, opening with a low chanical snap—
CLK—~
Behind them—
The woman turned.
Her attention shifted toward the exchange, her arm beginning to lift—
Don saw it.
Tracked it.
And didn’t move.
"Oh no you don’t." He thought.
Because sothing else had already lined up.
In his vision—
A flicker.
Green.
Upper levels of the tower.
A new marker appeared, overlay locking onto a position above—
**[Allied unit: Sniper | Angle: clear]**
—
High above—
A section of reinforced glass had been blown out, edges fractured inward where a hole had been carved through it. Wind moved freely through the opening, carrying faint heat and the distant scent of smoke.
A man lay prone just behind it.
Rifle braced.
Scope aligned.
His cheek pressed against the stock, one eye closed while the other tracked through the optic. The crosshair moved slowly, adjusting for distance, for movent, for the chaos below.
Bodies.
Fire.
Targets.
His breath slowed.
In his mind—
One thought repeated.
’The mont it looks distracted... shoot.’
His finger rested on the trigger.
It trembled.
Just slightly.
A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple, slipping past his brow as he held position—
Waiting.
Then—
He saw it.
The woman’s attention shift.
His finger tightened.
The shot broke.
CRACK—!
The sound split the air from above, echoing across the ruined periter.
The round tore downward—
Fast.
Direct.
But—
The woman reacted instantly.
Her head snapped toward the sound, faster than the bullet should have allowed. Her hand didn’t rise.
Didn’t need to.
Her hair moved again.
A violent whip—
SCRRRT—!
The strands struck the incoming round mid-flight.
The impact changed its path.
The bullet slamd into the ground instead—
THK—!
Dead.
Gone.
Don’s eyes widened.
"...It can deflect superhuman rounds?"
A brief pause in his thoughts.
’Even I can’t do that...’
Inside—
Mr. Olynk saw it too.
The projection in front of him updated in real-ti, the failed shot marking itself clearly across the interface.
His expression hardened.
"This is bad."
He didn’t hesitate.
His voice snapped into command imdiately.
"Falcon-3, Falcon-7—deploy. Priority target: airborne entity. Bring her down."
His hand moved across the interface, pulling up additional data.
"Use silvertine restraints. If capture fails—administer compound V-9. Do not engage at range."
He shifted slightly.
"Ghost-2, you’re up. Flank position. No direct contact until confird opening."
"Copy," multiple voices responded through the channel.
The mont the orders were given, multiple officers began advancing outside.
One of the advancing personnel broke off from the formation, dropping low as he reached for his side. A knife ca free, blade catching the light briefly before he flipped it in his grip.
His other hand pulled a small vial from his belt.
Purple fluid.
Thick.
He tilted it carefully, letting the liquid coat the edge of the blade. The mont it touched—
A faint vapor rose from it—
SSSS—~
He flinched slightly, pulling his hand back just a fraction before steadying himself again.
"Shit..." he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing as he watched the fus curl upward.
Deadly.
Close-range only.
Nearby—
Another operative moved differently.
He reached into his belt, pulling free a set of cuffs—dark tal with faint silver lining along the inner edges.
His fingers tightened around them—
Then his body shifted.
Not vanished.
Not completely.
But—
Blurred.
His outline bent with the environnt, colors shifting to match the background as his form faded into near invisibility. Movent remained—but only just. Enough that without focus, he would be missed entirely.
He stepped forward.
Outside—
The stitched man took the hits.
Rounds slamd into its raised arms in rapid succession—
THUD—THUD—THUD—!
Each impact tore at the thick layers of muscle, chunks of flesh ripping away under the force. Blood—dark and viscous—spattered outward in uneven bursts, hissing faintly as it struck the heated ground.
But the rounds didn’t pass through.
They lodged.
Crushed.
Deflected.
The creature’s fra shifted backward under the pressure, feet dragging grooves into the pavent as it was forced a step—then another.
The two officers didn’t stop firing.
One adjusted his stance, leaning into the recoil as he tracked upward slightly.
"What the fuck is that thing made of—?!" he muttered through clenched teeth.
More rounds followed—
Relentless.
Then—
They stopped.
Mid-air.
Every bullet hung in place again, trembling slightly as they were caught by an unseen force.
Both officers’ expressions tightened instantly.
Grim.
But neither lowered their weapons.
"Now—!" one of them barked.
Above—
The sniper fired again.
CRACK—!
Then another—
CRACK—!
The rounds cut downward fast—
But the woman had already moved.
Her other hand rose, palm open—
The incoming shots halted just short of her.
Frozen.
Her hair shifted again, strands rising and wrapping around her head and neck, forming a dense barrier that moved with intent—
Protecting.
Deflecting.
Holding.
But that—
Was the opening.
Don moved.
The ground beneath him broke first.
CRRSH—!
His legs drove downward, force exploding through the pavent as he launched forward. Concrete fractured outward in a circular burst, cracks spreading rapidly from the point of impact as debris lifted and scattered—
WHOOOM—!
He cleared the distance in an instant.
The woman reacted—
Her body shifted mid-air, trying to pull away, her focus splitting as she redirected movent—
And lost control.
The bullets she held dropped.
CLTR—CLTR—CLTR—~
They hit the ground in a scattered rain.
It was too late though.
Don’s eyes locked onto her.
His pupils flared—
Blue outlining the edges.
Telekinesis activated.
It seized her.
Not gently.
Her body jerked mid-air, movent cut off entirely as the force locked around her fra. Her limbs strained against it, hair whipping outward violently as she tried to break free—
Didn’t matter.
Don closed the final gap.
His fist drove forward.
It connected with her side—
BOOM—!
The impact folded her.
Her body arched inward around the strike, ribs compressing under the force as the hit carried through her entire fra. The air around them distorted for a split second from the force behind it—
Then she was gone.
Launched.
Her body tore across the street at high speed, limbs trailing behind her as she spun once mid-air.
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