[Ethan's POV]
…
Pike's hand began to fall.
And in that moment, the world slowed.
Not just slowed, it shattered.
My vision fractured into layers, like the city had been folded into a thousand glass panes and I stood at the center of them all. I felt like I was a graphic designer, and every image pixels became zoomed to the maximum.
Every enemy muzzle flash became a frozen ember. Every heartbeat thudded like a drum stretched across eternity.
The Wheel didn't spin this time. It watched, and I saw.
Eleven of Pike's men, they were all that were left of his cohort. I counted them like pieces on a chessboard.
Three on the rooftops, rifles steady, forming overlapping kill lanes. Four across the cracked asphalt, advancing with the slow discipline of wolves. Four more tucked into side alleys, waiting to flank.
Their eyes gleamed with abilities; one with the shimmer of body reinforcement, one with a crackle of fire dancing at his palms, another humming with resonance shock.
