Test Number One

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I'm working in a concessions stand at the flea market. It's been a relatively calm day today. We got a bit of a rush at lunch, but otherwise it's been quite slow. We expect to be closed soon. I'm grabbing a tray of nachos for a customer now. I hear a gasp behind me and turn around. Today's cashier has her hands above her head. Across the counter, pointing a gun, is a man with a mask on. "Open the register. Pull out everything." He shouts. She nods and opens the register, whimpering the whole time. Everyone around is frozen, costumers and fellow employees alike. I hold up a hand and step forward. "Stop." I say to the cashier. She does. "What? No! Keep going." He shouts. I keep my hand up, and she stays still. "I will not hesitate to use this." He warns. I walk up to the counter. "I'm warning you." He says, taking a step back. I turn on a microphone on the collar of my shirt and speak into it. "Shield test number one: robbed at gunpoint." Quick as lightning my hand flies down and presses a button on a device attached to my waist. A yellow energy crackles to life around me and I vault over the counter. The man fires the gun at me twice, and the bullets ricochet off me, one shattering a vase, the other cracking the tile floor. I lunge at the robber, knocking the gun out of his hand, and bringing us both to the ground. I straddle him and punch him once hard in the side of his head. He stops struggling, out cold. Soon enough the authorities arrive and I hand the robber over to them.

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