Vibroswords are the weapon of choice in this corner of the battlefield, it seems. Kylo, long trained in combat, is holding his own, though it's far more of a challenge than he had given his muted powers credit for. The strangeness of lacking the Force was something he was well aware of before now, but it only becomes more glaringly obvious as he struggles to keep track of his surroundings and things escape his notice.

One of those things happens to be a bullet that thankfully misses anything vital but does graze enough to leave a noticeable gash on his left arm.

"Kriff!" he swears, wincing, then draws in a breath through gritted teeth, trying to focus. Pain can become power; he's been taught that over and over again. But there's no Force to draw on, only the pain itself.