The echo of gunfire rattled through the supply chamber, sharp and deafening against the steel walls. Sparks burst from the floor as bullets ricocheted, the air heavy with the stench of scorched metal.
Belle stood firm, one knee bent, her rifle leveled with precise calm. Her eyes narrowed, focus razor-sharp as the glow of her skill activated.
"[Headshot : Lock]."
The bullet whistled, its trajectory unnaturally shifting mid-air, drawn to its target like a predator scenting blood.
But Nia's form flickered, gone in a blink. A split-second distortion of space left nothing but afterimages, and the bullet tore harmlessly through smoke. She reappeared at Belle's flank, eyes burning with challenge, knives glinting in her hands.
"You'll have to do better than that," Nia taunted, her voice mocking yet strained with exertion.
Belle clicked her tongue, chambering another round in one fluid motion. "Don't worry. I intend to."
