DN - Machine Gun Fire

Wind tugs at my cape, and the tower is silent and dark. For maybe three or four seconds.

Then the machine guns start up. Art deco moldings clack open, miniguns unfold, and scarlet streams of tracers break themselves against me. One gun smashes apart under my fist, the other my foot, and it’s done almost before it started. No more guns pop open to shoot me. It’s amazing how fast this kind of thing becomes second nature.

- Dreadnought, Chapter 35