Trick was fast. But not fast enough. She had disappeared in the time it'd taken 9 to launch his attack, but for a fraction of a second they'd both held her makeshift weapon. 

And for that fraction of a second her world was nothing but shadows of fear made solid. Flashes of torment, of suffering, of terrible hopeless desperation moved before her eyes. But there was more than just the visions. Phantom pains, too solid to be imagined, too chilling to be real, lanced their way through her body. They stabbed through her skin, into her very bones, destroying, stealing, scarring. They cut and tore, taking all that made her whole, leaving aching, empty fire in its place. 

Something hot burned like blood in her throat – a scream trying to claw its way out into the world.

Trick reappeared in the world a scant yard away from Black Jack, facing 9. She was pale and shaking, her eyes wide as they stared at nothing. She stumbled as she found herself in reality, unable to stay upright. She fell back, a hand barely catching herself as it scraped against the harsh edges of the road. She was freezing. She couldn't breathe she [i]couldn't breathe[/i]–

Air rushed out of her icy lungs in a loud shaking gasp. Frantic breath rasped through her body as she tried to find reality again, wide eyes finally coming into focus. Trick blinked in the sunlight. She looked up at 9. Then across the street at a tall, glass-walled building. Then down at herself. Breath still coming out in heavy, shaking gasps, Trick narrowed her eyes and forced herself to her feet. It was a difficult task when she was trembling so, and echoes of pain were still reverberating through her body. But eventually she managed to stand, though hunched and shaking. Her white-knuckled grip on her weapons released and they clattered to the ground.

She looked at 9 and time itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for a pin to drop.

Then Trick was gone, teleporting in front of him in an instant. He brought his hands up in reaction, but Trick was on him before he could do anything. She grabbed hold of his wrists and the two disappeared, only to reappear on the far side of the street, inside the building with glass walls. 

Or rather, 9 was inside the building. Trick was standing across from him, just outside the glass. With his hands. Trick let her arms drop, still holding them. The glass had cut clean through his forearms, halfway between his wrists and elbows. Thick, crimson blood poured down both sides of the glass, pulling sticky trails when Trick's pieces fell from the wall. Her eyes didn't leave 9's shocked ones as her hands fell limp at her sides, still wrapped around his wrists. His fingers were twitching. She dropped them and they landed with a wet [i]splat[/i] in growing pools of blood. 

She flashed away again, appearing behind him and already halfway through a roundhouse kick aimed at his head. Something halfway between a growl and a shout escaped her as her foot collided. He hadn't even hit the ground when she kicked again, this time sending him straight into the glass. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the impact. 9 lay still, more and more blood staining his clothes and skin. Trick stared down at him for a moment before teleporting herself back into the middle of the street. 

Her amber eyes flashed molten gold in the sunlight, something angry and feral and [i]desperate[/i] in them. The fire that danced within them, normally focused and controlled had become an inferno, overwhelming in its fury. She eyed the scene around her, taking in the environment, escape routes, threats – but those people gathered there, they weren't threats. Cops, civilians… they stared at her with wide eyes and blood-drained faces, frozen in what could only be fear.

And something seemed to click back into place. Her eyes widened imperceptibly. Her hands started to tremble as her fingers curled to touch each other, finding blood that was not hers. Beneath her scarf her lips parted in realization and she tried to swallow – only to find her throat dry and raw, as though she'd been screaming. Something hot pricked at her eyes as the reality of what'd happened crashed down around her. 

What [i]had[/i] happened?

Through sheer force of will, Trick shoved it down. Her eyes, shaken but clear, came back into focus. Her mouth closed, her jaw setting. Her shaking hands tightened into fists. She would deal with what she'd done, what these people had seen, how they watched her like she was a landmine they'd stumbled upon and were waiting for to blow – she'd deal with it all later. Her job wasn't done.

Her eyes found Black Jack, daring him to try something.