It’s absence.
A dead, empty shock where my arm used to be attached to my body, followed by a delayed tidal wave of agony so intense my vision collapses into a red tunnel.
I snarl.
Not human.
Not controlled.
The jalshagar surges like a star going supernova inside my rib cage.
Kill.
Annihilate.
Erase.
My weapon is in my hand before I consciously register drawing it.
The second attacker steps into view at the far end of the corridor.
I put a round through his face.
The third one barely has time to scream.
Everything narrows into heat and recoil and bone-deep violence, my body moving faster than my mind, my mind trying desperately to catch up with the feral thing I keep in a cage and just lost hold of.
The flashbang detonates behind us.
The blast wave slams into my back and throws me into the wall hard enough to crack tile.
My ears ring.
My shoulder burns.
My vision stutters.
I kill the fourth one without remembering how.
Then there is silence.
Except for my breathing.
Except for my pulse.
Except for the animal roar in my skull that does not want to stop.
“Tur.”
Her voice cuts through the red.
“Tur.”
Hands grab my face.
Warm.
Human.
