Lana was afraid.

She had pretty much snuck onto a van. And she had avoided the one bearing the leaders, because she didn't want to get pulled off and sent home. Some idiot had given her a gun, which she didn't know how to use. She watched the other members of the van, some of them nervous, more of them not (or at least hiding it well). There was a lot of talk of avenging David and hating on the Breakers. Some popped pills, some didn't. Some started to manifest powers, which Lana tried not to get distracted by. Many checked their weapons, used to relying on those during a fight. Lana mimicked them, trying to chamber a round with shaky hands. Her palms were too small and too slick to grip and pull the hammer of the gun. She hadn't expected the resistance to be so strong; it looked easy when other people did it. 

She was the last one off this second van, and she only got out because the driver was going to pull away with her if she didn't. She fished one of the pills from the pocket of her tight jeans and put it on her tongue, wincing while she swallowed it. It was cold as metal going down. 

She edged to the side; no way was she going in there with a gun she couldn't fire and no sign of powers yet. Just as she was crouching down beside a wall, it hit her, splintering her world and making her sway with vertigo. It curled pleasurably in the pit of her stomach and rocketed through her veins, amping her, making her feel inexplicably invincible. The dizziness that accompanied it was unpleasant and disorienting - the way she seemed to be able to see and feel two different things, like she'd doubled. The power, however, was undeniable, and she palmed the top of her gun with her left hand again and successfully slid the rack back. It probably had more to do with confidence than actual physical strength. Which, speaking of, where were her abilities? 

She glanced around and was surprised to see a stray dog cowering in the space between her and the wall. How had she not seen it before? It was mangy and tan, the color of [i]"don't notice me please."[/i] A frightened canine should have avoided eye contact, but it locked glossy black eyes with her, as if begging her to understand something. She assumed that it was as frightened as her, but that it understood what was happening less well. In a fragmented way, she could appreciate the animal's perspective: loud noises, aggression, people trying to hurt each other. Domestic animals were usually the first to get injured when people got angry. 

Lana shifted to her knees on the gritty asphalt, further away from this terrified creature. She was shaking to match it, but she tried to rally herself. She held her gun out away from her body and looked at the sieged building, the people pouring into and out of it. She recognized everyone from H10, but she wasn't confident that she could hit someone who wasn't, not from here. Especially not without accidentally hitting one of her own. Not with her vision as wonky as it was. 

A smell alerted her, startling her with its clarity and suddenness. Whoever was approaching was [i]not one of them.[/i] She pulled toward the intruder, firing automatically. It was a Breaker who hadn't even been intentionally approaching her, just backing towards her as he tried to get a good vantage point to fire on the arrival gang. A shell hit the ground near his feet, drawing his attention. As he turned around and targeted her, Lana made a terrible decision. Instead of shooting back, she cowered and threw her arm over her head. Not because this would protect her - it wouldn't - but out of some primal reaction to too much stimuli, and the half-baked hope that by looking defenseless, she would be left alone. 

Pain ripped through her side. Gasping, Lana immediately looked down at her white tee shirt. She expected to see it stained with blood. It wasn't. She pawed over herself: completely unharmed. Her ribs hurt like she'd taken a pointed kick to them, though, and her breathing hitched. 

A labored whine from beside her reminded her of the stray dog she'd hidden with. It had taken a hit. She put her hand out to its side, pulled it away awash in red. She could feel the film of dirt and dander in its fur. It lay its head against the ground, eyes going dim. Yet it continued to breath, heart pumping blood out of the hole in its side, soaking her black-denim knees. 

Lana's fear felt [i]less[/i]. While part of her senses were starting to close down myopically, the fear was going with it. Which didn't make sense, because the shooter was approaching her, and this dog was dying a death she would soon share. 

What happened next was completely impossible: the dog faded out. 

Lana's eyes grew round as saucers, she felt for where it had been, finding nothing but air. Her body still hummed with Neon, but the vertigo was gone, the heightened smell, the doubled vision, the duality of self. 

[i]What is happening?[/i] The blood was still there and very real, she hadn't imagined it. 

"Aww, did I kill your best friend?" asked the man, and she felt the barrel of his gun pushing through her hair at the back of her neck. Lana still felt fear, but it was smaller, weaker, shrunken and pushed aside. 

She reacted foolishly, hopped up on whatever the hell this crazy drug was, and she twisted around to glare at the Breaker. She tried to lift her gun, he kicked it out of her hand. She felt pain in her wrist as a result and scrambled back from the cold metal now at her throat. 

"You cunts are really fuckin' pathetic. You gonna' bring a thirteen year old bitch into [i]my[/i] hood? You're all as soft as David. Bet his chest was like jello. What's yours like, whore?" 

This time, Lana felt it happen. The moment of its manifestation was a wash of white-hot rage that swept through her, palpable from her prickling scalp to her curling toes. 

A white bengal tiger exploded out of her, pushing the guy back as its long body appeared. Its growl was modulated by the man's sudden little-girl screaming, the ineffectual pops of his gun, the sound of teeth tearing through viscera and crunching bone. 

[i]Ferocity.[/i]

Lana could taste the man's blood on her tongue, even though her back was against the wall, staring half in wonder, half in elation as she watched it happen, felt it happen, [i]made[/i] it happen. 

The cat shredded its claws on the man's body a couple times merely for the fun of it (he was already dead) and then looked back at Lana. Its blue eyes were bright as sapphires, blood like rubies on its fangs as it snarled at her, and Lana smiled back.