Diana deflecting bullets

Alia ran.  This time when Diana threw the table, she stood her ground.  This is madness, railed a voice in her head, but by then ten soldiers were open firing.
She didn’t stop to think, just let herself react.  Time seemed to slow as the air came alive in a hail of bullets.  This was like no sparring match or staged skirmish, and some part of her knew it.
Her muscles responded with effortless speed, instinct guiding her movements.  She forgot her pain as she barreled toward the line of men facing her down, deflecting their gunfire as she ran.  The bullets made silver streaks in her vision, strange music as they clanged against her bracelets, their impact like a hard patter of rain on a metal roof.
She rolled into a somersault, came up, sparks glinting from her wrists as another shower of bullets flew.