[The room is furnished well, but something about it still makes her stomach turn even before she lays eyes upon the scene in front of her. Perhaps it's the smell--sterility mixed with cigarette smoke, and a metallic twinge in the air. She gasps for breath, looks up. There's a child in front of her, a pleading woman and a man with a gun. A gun pointed at the woman, who begging and crying to the child.
The man with the gun is counting down, and Diana recognizes what's going on. He's almost at one, and finally, the fog lifts a little. She stumbles to her feet, still disoriented, and lunges towards the woman, arm outstretched for her bracelet to deflect the bullet.]
falling
The man with the gun is counting down, and Diana recognizes what's going on. He's almost at one, and finally, the fog lifts a little. She stumbles to her feet, still disoriented, and lunges towards the woman, arm outstretched for her bracelet to deflect the bullet.]
No!