Each shot spaced, controlled, deliberate, turning the machine gun into something closer to a sniper's tool, ten rounds in total, each one striking, testing, measuring.
Then she switched to Shotgun.
The blast spread wider, heavier, the force different, pressing against the general's defenses rather than piercing cleanly, forcing him to brace harder, his shield shifting slightly with each impact.
Then...
It finally shifted to the Grenade Launcher.
Four of them were launched in sequence.
Each explosion rolling over him, fire and force crashing against his defenses, dust and debris swirling around his figure, obscuring him for a brief moment.
When the smoke cleared, he still stood, but with small wounds marking his body.
Kiara lowered the weapon slowly, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself a thin, strained smile, one that barely held together under the quiet weight of her own awareness.
It had not been perfect.
Not even close.
