Smoke curled lazily from the barrel of the revolver clenched in Merek's hand as the Type Two staggered, its head pierced by a clean, smoking hole. The zombie pitched forward, falling head first onto the blood-soaked ground.
Merek swayed unsteadily from side to side, his vision swimming in dizzy waves. He'd had to use telekinesis to empower the bullet—just a slight boost, but enough to make it impossible for the Type Two to block or dodge the fatal shot.
Yuki caught him swiftly, steadying his trembling frame as he closed his eyes and shook his head repeatedly, trying desperately to clear the haze that blurred his sight.
Nero came running over, urgency thick in his voice as he reached out to Felicity, who was slumped on the floor, her chest rising and falling with rapid, ragged breaths. "Are you okay?!" he asked, his eyes wide with concern.
Between gasps, Felicity gave a shaky nod.
