They kept up their attack and Kayla kept hers up, and as she kept attacking, her fury became more and more obvious. The Purifiers were like walking, talking, breathing symbols of all the pain and misery she'd been put through by the bigots in her life. As she got closer, several of the bullets hit. She felt them no more than she would hard rain.

She wasn't sure when she started screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, the sound practically tearing out of her throat. But she was certain that it felt good to punch them, and hard. Every blow sending shockwaves coarsing through their bodies, through their armour- enough to disrupt their systems, just shy of the amount needed to smash their bones through their armour, though there was no guarantee at the actual impact point, where her fist punched either huge dents into their armour or went through it totally.

Her rage boiled up, from the deepest pits of her being, through her core, into her fists and into them in devastating shockwaves. Kayla couldn't perceive it at the moment, but she was crying too, even as she screamed at them and punched them until they didn't get up.