Terezi isn't sure which one hits her first: the sharp crack of sound or the tearing pain that punches her in the back and spikes through her chest. Her legs freeze up immediately from the shock, and momentum carries her forward as she collapses, sending her tumbling for a few feet before stopping on her side. Dampness spreads quickly down both her back and front. Eyes wide and mouth partly open, she struggles to get a breath past the searing pain in her chest, but only manages something closer to a whimper. One hand comes up to grasp as the wound, quickly stained teal by the blood seeping through her uniform.

The pain makes it difficult to move, but even more so to think. Her thoughts keep hiccuping over the same line: Shot. I've been shot. I'm bleeding. I need to stop it. But the how escapes her. Her world focuses down smaller and smaller until all she can think about is the hole in her chest and the steady flow of blood draining out of her.