I tilt my palm, and the small metal disks fly away from me.
The cerdos try to turn away, I’m sure to run, but they’re much too slow.
The metal embeds in the center of their thighs.
They both crumble to the ground, their screams as cowardly as their actions.
I may be new to the current world, but there will never be room for cowardice in authority.
My steps forward are relaxed while I gesture up with both hands, making my gravito pull both guns out of their owner’s hands.
The weapons float toward me, meeting me a few strides away from the fallen cops.
“D-don’t shoot us.” Tall Cop holds up one hand while he presses down on a bleeding wound.
“I’m not going to shoot you.” I don’t bother pointing out the fact that the guns are empty as I pluck them from the air. And squeeze them.
The metal groans and the plastic cracks as I curl my fingers and crush the guns into useless garbage.
Short Cop whimpers as he tries to lift something up to his mouth.
A radio.
I send out a pulse of gravito, knocking the device out of his hand.
They both look down at the dropped radio. And when they look back up, I jump to them.
The men crouching behind the barrel jolt in surprise as the two before me moan with fear.
I bend down, enunciating, making sure they understand me. “You do not want to be the reason the truce between the humans and the Alts fails, do you?”
They shake their heads frantically.
“Then we should keep this to ourselves. Right?”
They nod, just as frantically.
I stand up to my full height. “I think so too.” Then I unleash my gravito.
It wraps around them, invisible straps holding their arms to their sides as it lifts them to their feet.
They do not deserve the smoky gravito. They deserve the fear of unseen pressure.
I turn my head toward the other two men, who are still crouched behind the downed barrel.
They lift their hands.
“Morning.” I dip my chin.
“M-morning.”
“Tell me, do you know these men?”
They both nod, slowly.
“Are they good men? Or bad men?”
The older of the two huffs. “I heard both of them hit their wives.”