The moment the shotgun swung toward it's intended target, Zubair moved.
He crossed the distance before the man could blink…three quick strides and the shotgun was no longer controlled by the man with shaky hands.
Metal scraped against the walls of the mall as their hands collided. The barrel slammed sideways into a pillar. Plaster cracked and dust burst into the air.
"Put it down," Zubair ordered, twisting the weapon free.
The man's breath hitched. The gun went slack in his grip and clattered to the floor, stock split and useless.
Sera didn't flinch. She stood just behind Zubair, and her head tipped to the side as if deciding whether this amused her or caused her to be bored. "You're shaking," she told the man, her voice steady like she was giving him an important life lesson. "That means we scare you. And if you are that scared that you can't control your reflexes… then you've already lost."
He set his jaw. "You think—"
