Blackie, realizing his 'toy' was finally empty, kept squeezing the trigger anyway, as if sheer stubbornness might coax a few more bullets out of it. The result was nothing but a rapid series of dry clicks echoing through the jungle. His face twisted with fury, and with an irritated snarl he hurled the useless submachine gun aside. Only then did it occur to him to actually charge the spot where his target had been moments ago.
By that point, however, it was far too late. Through his Soul Sense, Ethan had already watched the mutant Noah scramble to his feet and flee in blind panic, sprinting back toward his own lines without once looking back. By the time Blackie finished his pointless burst of empty fire and finally started moving, Noah was long gone, swallowed up by the chaos behind him.
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and facepalmed for what felt like the hundredth time today. He sent a sharp mental command, a telepathic whisper that hit Blackie's mind like a shout.
