That machine was about to attack me and I dodged it, but I felt the second hit.
It was a force with artificial skin over what I thought was titanium. It was a miracle I had nothing broken, but I hoped nothing was cracked.
There were others evacuating, but the exits were blocked as more of those blasted machines were impeding their paths.
I did my best to fight back, but this was an opponent I never expected to face.
In the back of my mind, I could picture my nephew Elijah saying those fatal four words.
“I told you so.”
What an ironic reversal.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 