The presence of the massive guard, standing confident and aggressive, coming towards you as you refuse her commands, initiates some instinctual defense mechanism in you. Your arms shoot up to cover your face from an animalistic attack, but you let go of the matter transposer in the act.
Dominique charges towards you as the gun falls to the floor, her heavy, booted footsteps pounding the tile with each long stride. The floor quakes under her march. Your eyes follow the silver device as it crashes to the floor, and you hope for the best.
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