She reappeared, close to the helicopters, but the impact from the shot I’d just fired had shifted her balance imperceptibly, shifted the position of the one hand perceptibly, so it didn’t come down with the speed or angle she’d intended.

One axe-hand punched into the back of a truck that was carrying people. The one I’d shot came down a second or two after, where Gibbet’s cranes were already growing and criss-crossing. Metal creaked, bent, broke, and toppled.

I’d bought a second or two, which let Gibbet buy another two. That was time enough for someone to get a forcefield up, for vehicles to veer away, one truck’s side scraping against another in its haste.

I’d been an Alexandria-Lite. Now I played the role of a faux Legend, counting my shots carefully, mindful of battery, taking in the whole battlefield and figuring out where I needed to deliver the heavy fire.

It required a different mindset. I couldn’t identify the biggest problem, charge in with ninety-five percent of a plan in mind, and figure out what I was doing as I got between my target and the thing they were trying to accomplish. I had to line up my shots, make sure nobody was in the way, either in front of my target or behind her, and make every shot count.

I shot again, not because of what Titan Skadi was doing, but because others were mobilizing, using powers, and I was betting that she was going to respond. I placed the beam in the hollow of her neck, and flew down as she leaned back, to ensure I had the angle to keep the beam focused on one spot and keep her as unbalanced as possible, as long as I had her unbalanced and off-guard.

Having multiple hands gripping the gun made it easier to keep it steady, but I was finding some sympathy with Crystal’s complaint that lasers were actually hard to aim. She’d given me a laser pointer at one point and asked me to keep it steady, and I’d thought I’d done okay then. I hadn’t had adrenaline churning through my body to the point I had tremors in my actual hands. I hadn’t been terrified then.

She started teleporting away as I did the damage. She reared back, pushed a bit by the beam, and was still rearing back as she appeared nearby. No attack on arrival this time. The axe that had plunged into the truck was abraded, and the abrasions collected blood and pieces of the people she’d guillotined.

I’d hoped for, wanted her to come after me. Lives had been lost or irrevocably changed by the attack earlier. This spot of anticipation had maybe saved others. But it wasn’t enough.