[The only things she really remembers are the sounds -- the final crackle of the flame as it dissipates, the snap of bone colliding against flesh, the deafening flash of a gun's rounds being emptied. When it's over, she's clutching at the back Cross's coat with one shaky hand, stepping forward just enough to see for herself.]
[To Cross, without letting go:] Are you okay?
[Glances up at Touma, then, lips parted for a few seconds before she says anything.] You should probably get out of here. [Before Cross gets any angrier, or before you get really hurt.]