Jonah was fast, but not quite fast enough. One dark round fired from the muzzle of Mistress at Shin, and that was the last shot he ever made with it. It had shocked him, the assassin rising from the dead like that, the mangled mess of his face, he had frozen for just a fraction of a second and it had screwed him. He stumbled backwards, a guttural groan leaving his lips as Mistress fell to the ground, his maimed right hand slumping to his side as his survival instincts took over. Another shot went right through him, and then the shadow leapt to his aid, blanketing the fire for him as he groggily levelled Spouse. 

Mistress clunked to the ground, and Spouse let out a barrage of fire, hard calibre rounds hurtling through the air as his shadow ate up the blasts from Shin’s weapon. He fired, one shot after another, slower than before as he manually cocked the weapon with his thumb. His shadow broke down after the third shot and he was hit again, but he gave as good as he got. Bloody holes appeared through his coat and his shirt grew red. He fired until his gun could fire no more, stumbling backwards all the way, even in his death throes every shot was on target.

“Well… sh-” The Tired Gun collapsed to the ground, his eyes staring up into the great blue sky up above, his one whole hand clenched tight around the barrel of Spouse. The wind blew while the world seemed to… settle. Then, his eyes closed.