Elya fell into a stance, controlling her breath carefully. She felt the wind, the street, the world around; and focused pinpoint on the Pacis about to shoot her. She put herself light on her toes, waiting for a fraction of a second to exhale and concentrate in the moment between breaths. In an instant she knew where they were aiming--and she dodged right up between the trajectories.
The gunfire went off, and the bullets zipped away from her without leaving so much as a scratch. She dashed towards the Pacis between shots, reading their movements, lines of sight, and overcompensated pivots to redirect their weapons. Elya leapt over the next few bullets without any trouble, feeling all the elements around her to read where she'd land.
Hitting the ground, she swept her katana across two Pacis, enacting cries of pain and droplets of blood. She skirted around the next few, avoiding more bullets. They started improving in accuracy, and she had to stay on her toes to keep away. Gunshots, bullets flying, her sword flashing in the lamplight; she balanced it all, filtering out everything unimportant and hyperfixating on everything else.
Duck one bullet, dash up and slash.
Weave between two more, cut down another Pacis.
Kick off a wall to dodge another shot--this one more accurate than the rest. It grazed across her arm, but she filtered the pain. Elya finished the last Pacis with her backwards momentum, hitting him in the chest with the end of the blade before whipping around to slice.
She let out a puff of breath, then gave herself a moment to see how the other one was doing.