Lukas didn't care how he got here. He didn't feel good about himself.
"What are you standing there for? Attack him! Get him out of our house!"
The security personnel moved, professional training overriding their confusion. They are afraid, but they can't seem to delay their orders.
They raised weapons, advanced with coordinated precision, and prepared to subdue or eliminate the threat.
Jorghan raised his hand, and red light gathered at his fingertips.
The beams that shot forth were condensed mana, compressed into projectiles that moved faster than bullets and hit with devastating force. Each beam found its target with perfect accuracy, punching through tactical vests and flesh with equal ease.
The guards dropped, all twelve of them, dead before they hit the marble floor. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, spreading across white stone in abstract crimson patterns.
The family stood frozen, staring at the corpses, at the casual display of impossible power.
