The man's grip on his rifle faltered, his knuckles turning white as his face paled. "You're bluffing," he muttered, but his voice cracked, his confidence crumbling like ash in the wind. His eyes darted between Angela and me, searching for any sign of weakness, any hint that this was all some twisted joke. But he found none.
Before he could react, I moved.
In a single, fluid motion, I lunged forward and wrenched the rifle from his hands. His finger twitched on the trigger in panic, and a shot rang out—directly at my face.
The bullet struck me square in the forehead and ricocheted off as if it had hit steel. His eyes widened in horror, his breath hitching as he stumbled back. "No... that's impossible—!" he choked out, his voice trembling. "What the fuck are you?!"
The soldiers who had been standing behind me didn't hesitate. In an instant, they surged forward, grabbing the man by his arms and dragging him out of the helicopter.
