The pain stops again, abruptly, and for a moment Trilla can do nothing but lie there and try to breathe through the aftershocks and the anticipation of more to come. When nothing does, when she hears a sizzle and crash of broken machinery, she forces herself to move because she knows with all the certainty in the world that she will get no further chances.

Wrenching an arm free with a vehemence that would've left her with flayed skin if this were any sort of reality, Trilla just sees the guard closest to Cal move in time to throw a hand up as though she knew how to push him away with her sheer will.

"Cal, move!"

She claws the restraint off her other wrist and throws herself in the path of the guard's strange weapon, flinging Cal and herself to the ground a moment before the stroke can land. The impact is jarring to her already rattled nerves, but there's no time to stop. She's already trying to struggle too-slowly back up again.

"Can't... fight them. Run."