As the two would-be assassins collapse, the pretty woman draws a vicious-looking curved knife from her sleeve, swears in a foreign language, and lunges towards you. There's nothing standing between you two. You level your handgun onto her, but she's like a blur, kicking it out of your hand with enough force it feels like your hand shattered. The assassin grins psychotically at you and flourishes her curved knife as you reel back. "Bhalwi al-sham asmik qalbik, dog." The Sekhmeti assassin spits, before lunging forward one last time to slash her knife up into your throat. A moment later, everything goes black.
<<case "snipedbysons">>
WIP
It's a particularly nice day out and you've decided to visit some of the more prominent citizens of your arcology, the kind of people you might call 'friends' if genuine friendship wasn't a quick way to get stabbed in the back in the Free Cities. As you're having a pleasant conversation with one of these notables on the raised porch of his luxurious apartment, $assistant.name pings you with an urgent message: DUCK.
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You blink once at the strange message. That's the extent of time it takes for the .50 caliber bullet travelling through the air from halfway across the arcology to impact the front of your head and exit through the back, splattering your brains into a fine gray goop across the suit of the citizen you were speaking with seconds ago. On the bright side, your death is instantaneous, unexpected, and totally painless, given that your head is essentially ripped off your body with the force of the sniper round.
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The next day the Sons of Sekhmet release a propaganda video featuring graphic footage of your death as a "victory against the decadent anarcho-tyrannies of the New World". The other silver lining to all this is that you aren't there to see the violence and strife that immediately erupts between your arcology's forces and the Sekhmeti cells nearby in the wake of your death.
