He swore, reaching for Jonathan's nerves before the man could fire a third time.Victor caught them, turned the dial, as he had in the art gallery, and just like in the art gallery, the blue-white light of Jonathan's forcefield flared up, instantly shielding him. Victor felt his hold slipping, but this time he didn't let go.Every object had a shatter point, a limitation to its tensile strength. Apply enough force, and it would break.
-V. E. Schwab
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