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The world around me froze. My brain processed the facts at a speed hundreds of times faster than light. I heard three shots. Not one, not two, but three. Who the hell fired the third one? And, most importantly, where did those bullets go? Would I feel an explosion of raw pain as soon as time restarted? Was I… going to die?

I inhaled sharply, and all my senses returned. I expected the agonizing pain to come within a heartbeat, but it didn't. All I felt was a scorching cut on my right arm. I still held a gun pointed at the shooter, and his gun was pointed at me. Did he… miss?

Another second passed, and he turned pale. The hand holding a gun lowered to his side. Did I shoot him? My heart thundered against my chest. My ribs shrank, limiting my breathing to shallow gasps. I wasn't wounded. Not severely. Not by his bullet. But he got hit. He must have gotten shot, but where? It was hard to spot blood on the black shirt and black combat pants he was wearing. After a heartbeat, he fell to his