CASSIAN
The impact didn't feel like a bullet. It felt like a sledgehammer swung by a giant.
The force slammed into my ribs, the ceramic plate of the vest catching the lead and spreading the energy across my chest.
It didn't penetrate, but the laws of physics still applied. My lungs seized. The air was punched out of me in a single, ragged gasp.
Underneath the fabric, the skin was already turning purple. It was a deep, throbbing ache that made every subsequent breath feel like a chore.
But the impact gave me everything I needed. From the direction of the force and the angle of the hit, I knew exactly where he was. Third floor. Behind the crate with the blue markings.
I didn't wait for the pain to fade. I rolled, came up on one knee, and fired a single, placed shot. I didn't need to check the result. The silence from that corner of the walkway told the story.
