The needles flew around me in a deadly dance, each movement precise. I raised my arm, deflecting one with the side of my wrist. Pain shot through me like lightning, but I felt the needle shift slightly off its path. Not enough to take it, but enough to know I could do it.
I pressed forward. My feet slid across the white surface, body low. The needles came faster, swirling around the clone like a storm. One after another, they slashed past me. My muscles screamed, my skin stung with every cut, but my mind stayed locked on the pattern.
There was always a pattern.
The clone took a single step backward. The orbit of the needles expanded. For one second, the nearest one dipped slightly, slower than the others, almost brushing against her shoulder.
Opportunity!
