[ The sudden rush forward doesn't catch Bradbury off-guard, but the grab for the halberd does. But even as Matt calls out, a hard wrench of Bradbury's hands tears the polearm out of Xanatos' grip. The blade's momentum forces him to take a step back, but Matt's words register:
Finish this!
Bradbury's grip on the halberd tightens, and he yanks it around sharply, axe-side first. It whistles through the air as he puts all his weight behind it, cleaving downwards with deadly swiftness, aiming at no less than burying itself into the man's head.
It all happens faster than he can think, but as he brings the halberd swinging down, too late to stop, a part of him watches in dull horror. If it hits, this isn't going to be a kill with a gun, clean and impersonal. It's going to be a fucking mess. ]
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Finish this!
Bradbury's grip on the halberd tightens, and he yanks it around sharply, axe-side first. It whistles through the air as he puts all his weight behind it, cleaving downwards with deadly swiftness, aiming at no less than burying itself into the man's head.
It all happens faster than he can think, but as he brings the halberd swinging down, too late to stop, a part of him watches in dull horror. If it hits, this isn't going to be a kill with a gun, clean and impersonal. It's going to be a fucking mess. ]