The moment the shotgun swung toward it’s intended target, Zubair moved.

He crossed the distance before the man could blink...three quick strides and the shotgun was no longer controlled by the man with shaky hands.

Metal scraped against the walls of the mall as their hands collided. The barrel slammed sideways into a pillar. Plaster cracked and dust burst into the air.

"Put it down," Zubair ordered, twisting the weapon free.

The man’s breath hitched. The gun went slack in his grip and clattered to the floor, stock split and useless.

Sera didn’t flinch. She stood just behind Zubair, and her head tipped to the side as if deciding whether this amused her or caused her to be bored. "You’re shaking," she told the man, her voice steady like she was giving him an important life lesson. "That means we scare you. And if you are that scared that you can’t control your reflexes... then you’ve already lost."

He set his jaw. "You think—"

Zubair shoved him into the column the shotgun now pressing against the other man’s throat. The sound of his head hitting the pillar was dull and final like even the mall wasn’t willing to fight for these people.

Elias shifted a step forward, ready to protect Zubair’s back just in case anyone else tried to be brave. Alexei stayed still. His hands might have been empty, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat.

"Stop!"

The glossy woman’s voice cut across the court. She strode in with the man with the bat, the pipe, and two more behind her, their heels striking the tile floors like a drum.

"I told you two stores!" she snapped, pointing hard enough to shake her wrist. "This isn’t a resupply. This isn’t a matter of survival. It is theft, plain and simple."

Sera turned her head away from where Zubair was silently strangling one of the glossy woman’s men and toward the woman herself.

"You keep using that word," she replied, deciding that she was bored of this whole thing. It was fun when there was a reason, but now it was just getting redundant. "I don’t think it means what you think it means."

"Everything here belongs to the General," the woman shot back. "We protect it for those who are worthy of the sacrifices that the General has made. Clearly, you don’t appreciate him, so you anre officially trespassing. Leave all the supplies behind and fuck off."

"Funny," Lachlan muttered. "Didn’t see your name on any deed."

Her glare jumped to him. "You think you can walk in here and take what you want?"

"Yes," Sera replied. Her response was simple... and final.

The woman blinked, thrown. "Excuse me?"

"To the victor go the spoils," Sera said. "And you haven’t won anything."

The man with the bat shifted his grip. The pipe man rolled his shoulders like he wanted to pick a fight and talk about it later. The quiet girl with the binder hovered near a pillar, eyes on Sera, knuckles white on cardboard covers.

Zubair planted his boots and glanced once at the roofline before looking at the storefronts.

There were no threats coming from the roofline. The left flank only had a sunglasses kiosk. The man there was already dead, so nothing to worry about. To the right was a pretzel stand. It was clear. Behind them was an open hall, echoing the steps of the glossy woman.

He logged the exits, the bodies, the hands, the eyes. He placed himself between Sera and the line that could break first.

"Two stores," the glossy woman repeated, louder now, working for an audience. "You’ve taken what you want. You’ll settle up, and you’ll leave."

"Settle with who?" Elias asked, dry. "You? Your ledger? His shadow?" He tipped his chin at the ceiling. "Pick one."

"With me," she insisted. "I speak for this floor."

"No," Sera returned. "You speak for yourself."

Murmurs ran through her men. They didn’t like losing ground they thought they owned. The bat man tried to slide a foot onto the duffel Lachlan carried.

Lachlan didn’t bother to look down. Instead, he caught the man’s wrist and squeezed until tendons complained and the man couldn’t help but scream from pain.

"Move your foot," Lachlan told him, his voice almost mild.

"Make me," replied the man, tilting his chin up just a bit.

A thin line of blue crawled up under Lachlan’s skin.

The sunglasses hid his eyes, but anyone with a brain could tell that Lachlan wasn’t going to take that response lying down. His palm lifted an inch, and the air around him seemed to snap, sharp and clean, and what looked like a small bolt jumped from his hand and kissed the bat’s metal cap.

The shock ran the length of the bat and bit the man through his grip. He jerked like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket and yanked his foot clear.

Lachlan blew out a small breath as he looked down at his hand. "Well," he muttered, almost pleased. "That’s new."

The pipe man swore and took a step back. The glossy woman flinched, then forced her shoulders high again, smile flat and white.

"You want to escalate?" she asked sweetly. "We can escalate."

"I wouldn’t," Alexei advised, his voice low and even. "You won’t enjoy the ending."

She ignored him and pointed past Zubair at Sera’s coat. "You think brass makes you special? You’re no one. You’re just a stray who found four men too dumb to know better."

Zubair felt Lachlan tilt a degree. Alexei’s eyes went colder. Elias’s hand opened and closed once, then stilled. Luci laid his ears back and showed a single tooth.

"Careful," Zubair told the glossy woman. The warning might have sounded soft, but the threat carried through loud and clear.

She stepped closer anyway, chin up as if she was looking for a camera that wasn’t there. "You’ll learn the rules or you’ll disappear. People vanish in places like this. The General doesn’t miss them."