Elemental Escalation - Chapter 14 - Message Sent (Patreon)

"What the fuck is this?"

"What the fuck is that?"

Taylor swirled around, trying to take in all the impossibilities at once. Trying to understand how space warped around them, how time seemed to flicker for a few seconds, and how the Mist seemed to be barely held back by ridiculous asuran shield generators.

And even though the shields held, she could see past them, and what she saw beyond them confused her mightily. She saw herself in the past, but not truly. She saw what could have been if she had made different decisions, then the scene played out again and showed her what happened to someone else. All this with a haze over it, so it was really hard to even pick up what she managed…

"We call it the Fractal, Sorceress," came the answer from the loudspeaker, carrying the familiar and rather annoying voice of an excited asuran scientist.

In Taylor's experience, it was never good news if somebody from the diminutive race was excited, so she simply scowled in response.

"That's great, and all that," she exchanged a look with her companions, watching as Rytlock paced around the rock they were standing around, and continued, "but why?"

"We managed to access the part of the Mist that contains an echo of Tyria's history," came the excited answer from the loudspeakers. "Thus, we wished to see what we could learn from it. However, it seemed we found some… hostile elements that we need to dispose of. Preferably as soon as possible."

"Typical…" growled Rytlock, and Taylor had to agree with the grouchy charr.

"So, you called us..."

"Er… yes. We called you. Or, rather, I, Dessa, called you! Yes, that's correct!"

Taylor looked at her companions, all of them wearing resigned expressions.

Marjory was standing rather close to Kasmeer, Rytlock was gripping his sword even harder, and Braham was looking rather depressed into the Mist surrounding them (Taimi was back in her lab, but Taylor knew that the tiny asura was paying attention).

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, wanting to know their opinion about the situation, because to her, the entire thing smelled foul.

And it wasn't Rytlock, who hadn't bathed for a while… again.

Kasmeer and Marjory just gave her a determined nod.

Rytlock growled, which Taylor took to interpret as an agreement, and Braham was still staring at the Mist.

Sighing, Taylor shrugged and raised her voice.

"Fine, what do you need us to do?"

There was an excited squealing, then the asura's – Dessa's – voice came through once again over the loudspeakers that she still hadn't found.

"Excellent! You will be the perfect specimen… I mean, thank you for your help!"

Taylor just sighed again and wondered how she ended up here…

**

"So, you wanted to talk about who? Taylor? You're paying for the drinks, right? Excellent!"

"Anyway, Taylor Vaporblade, the Hero of yada yada…"

"Yeah, we fought together. She is good. No, she is better than good. Sharp reflexes, and ruthless enough that even the dragons fear her."

"No, I'm not scared of her."

"That was a rumor, and I definitely wasn't 'washed' by her. Ridiculous, as if Rytlock Brimstone could be defeated by something like… soap…"

"Thanks for the drink, pup. So, where was I? Right, Rothy, the giant snake-dragon thingy."

"It was a bastard to fight, did those mind whammy things, but she just went ahead. Apparently, she was paranoid enough to develop a magic that protected people against it. That's why the Pale Tree considers her a hero. She shared that magic with the Dream… You know what the Dream is, right? Right! So, she shared it with those sad salads, and so they were more protected from Rothy…"

"You want to know about Bangar? He was an idiot. He was an idiot before he became the puppet of Jormag. No, Jonak? Maybe Kormac? Bah, the ice dragon. And he became an even bigger idiot after that. And look at him now, he is nothing more than a bauble on the mantle of Aurene…"

"Why aren't you laughing?"

"So, what if that war killed countless people? All wars are like that. And trust me on this, it could've been much, much worse. MUCH! Oh, what? Thanks for the refill."

"Anyway, did I ever tell you about the time I went into the Mist…?"

– Tribune Rytlock Brimstone drunken ramblings​

**

Jonas was content with his life.

He had a lovely family, an excellent job at the Ministry of Agriculture, and a warm home.

They weren't the richest people around, nor were they the most high-born and blue-blooded nobles, but they were comfortable.

Comfortable enough that when his daughter, the lovely Sarah, asked for a rather sizeable sum of money to buy something, he just smiled and gave it to her. After all, she kept up with her studies, never caused trouble (and when she did cause trouble, it was only the typical teenage trouble, so he didn't much care), and never really asked for anything expensive.

To her, expensive clothes and other baubles that the rest of the nobles loved were nothing more than an annoyance. Instead, she enjoyed talking with people.

Sarah enjoyed visiting the Salma District, interacting with people, listening to their stories, and talking about what was happening in the wider world.

Though Jonas suspected her goal was to hang out with the Hero Sorceress, who was said to also live in that district.

So, after Sarah came home with a medium-sized box with asuran writing, he didn't give it much thought. Probably some inane artifact that those annoying scientists couldn't find any use for, so they sold it to humans.

But then Sarah stopped leaving her room. She barely talked to her family, always staying in her room, only leaving it for food and other refreshments, yet still somehow managed to keep up with her studies and, according to the reports, even improve them.

For a while, Jonas let it go.

But after a month of full isolation, he became rather worried.

So, he did what every good father should do.

He asked his wife to talk to her.

After a few days of worrying, his lovely and beautiful wife, Charlene, came back to him with an enigmatic smile and invited him to join her for a visit to their daughter's room.

Full of trepidation, Jonas entered the room, only to see books and notes strewn all around, with only his daughter's desk clean of them. Instead, the desk was occupied with some manner of a thin, holographic slab that seemed to be showing some kind of pictures standing perpendicularly to the desk, while the surface of the desk contained an odd contraption with a lot of small button-like things, each of them labeled with one character.

"So, Sarah, what manner of artifact is this, that it managed to enthrall you so much?"

The enormous smile on his daughter's face was rather unexpected.

"This, Daddy, allows me access to the alnet!"

"And what is that?"

"A network where you can talk to all sorts of people from all over the world. Even Taylor Vaporblade is on it!" came the enthusiastic reply.

Jonas didn't really get it, but as he watched his daughter start to explain the odd contraptions, he knew one thing.

She was happy, and that was enough for him.

Though after he returned to his office, one question still bothered him.

What was the purpose of the cat pictures?

**

Director Emily Piggot never could have imagined that she would be thankful for something a parahuman had done for her. But as she sat behind her desk and dealt with the frankly ridiculous number of issues that came up after Weaver went and did her thing down under, she was rather thankful that the annoying woman had healed most of her outstanding health issues.

If it weren't for that, she would have been dead after only a day, just from exhaustion that was caused by having to sign so many papers.

As it stood now, she was still exhausted, grumpy, and wanted to strangle Weaver, no matter how much her actions helped humanity, but she wasn't in danger of keeling over.

And even her father, Overwatch, was no help whatsoever.

There had been a small hope in the beginning that the rather sedate man would be able to rein his daughter in, but that hope died a quick and clean death.

Weaver, ignoring almost all instructions from the PR department and from her, went around giving interviews to almost everyone, participating in award ceremonies, or simple parties celebrating the defeat of the Hopekiller.

Currently, she was back in Australia, accepting another reward from the Australian government for saving the people of Canberra.

Emily shook her head and refocused her attention on her work. And for a few minutes, it worked. She didn't have to think about the current most annoying parahuman in her city, only about budgets (that mysteriously increased over the last week or so), and other miscellaneous tasks.

Like the absence of Lung from the Brockton Bay gang scene.

Then another piece of paperwork came up about Weaver, this time about figurines, and she had to hold herself back from smashing the keyboard to pieces.

She already went through several of them, and at this point, it was getting embarrassing.

Of course, Emily tried to stop Weaver, tried to keep the parahuman on base, citing all sorts of things, but the woman just gave her a sad smile and asked her one question.

"Why wouldn't I give hope to the people?"

To that, Emily had no answer.

So, she reluctantly stopped her obstruction and just tried to get through the paperwork in time so that she could go home and drink herself stupid.

Because as much as she grumbled and complained about Weaver and her actions, she was happy.

Emily, more than the average person on the street, knew how much stress the Endbringers placed on the system, and she knew it wasn't far off in the future when the system would collapse under that stress.

And with her experience with parahumans, both on the side of the "angels" and the gangs, she knew the moment that happened, humanity as a whole would cease to exist.

Was it dramatic?

It was.

But she had no hope that those foolish and egotistical parahumans would be able to restrain themselves.

Even now, it took too much time, effort, and resources to rein them in, and those were only the ones that worked for the Protectorate.

The likes of the Nine, Heartbreaker, and dozens of other S-class threats still roamed around without anyone successfully stopping them (or failing to stop them), planning who knew what.

But with Weaver defeating the Simurgh, things changed.

Finally, things weren't as hopeless as before. The Endbringers could be defeated.

Maybe some others, too?

Emily shook her head again and stood up.

She needed to take a walk and empty her head of those annoying thoughts.

She had a ton of work to get through; she didn't want to be distracted…

**

Missy was over the moon.

Weaver was back, and she was hanging out with her.

Or rather, with the Wards, but Missy didn’t really care about that part.

The heroine that everybody was talking about was lounging on the sofa, rather elegantly, while entertaining all of them with stories about the parties and ceremonies she had attended over the last few weeks.

And as Missy looked around, she saw that everybody was happy, with even Chris deciding that this was more interesting than whatever weird thing he was building.

Shadow Stalker’s absence was barely felt, and she couldn’t help but wish good riddance to the other girl.

Trying to frame Weaver for drug possession?

What possessed that stupid girl to do that?

Wrenching her thoughts from the older girl she once kinda-somehow admired, Missy turned back to Weaver and was happy to note that she was winding down with her story because she desperately wanted to know something.

“So, Weaver, uhm, if it is not too much trouble…” she blushed a little as everybody’s eyes were on her, but she steeled herself and continued. “Could you tell us about the song?”

Missy was glad to see that even the normally calm Dean perked up at hearing about it.

Ever since Weaver killed the Simurgh (and it was still as weird to say that), the song she sang during the battle became world-famous.

Thanks to Dragon, who recorded the entire thing with excellent clarity, and after Weaver agreed, the famous Tinker shared it on the internet.

It became viral in a record-breaking ten minutes.

Not long after, several tributes, reworks, remixes appeared on the net, or even people trying to sing the song on their own. Sadly, due to the fact that none of them were as awesome as Weaver or the fact that said song was in a language that no one knew on Earth, those copies were rather lackluster.

But Missy was here, and she had more access to Weaver than almost anyone on Earth, so she was going to ask the question that had been bothering most of the populace of Earth Bet.

“Oh, what about it?” Weaver responded with a grace that Missy wished she could imitate.

Maybe then…

But it didn’t matter.

What mattered was the song.

“Well, everything about it. Like, what language is it? What’s it about? Where did you learn it? Can you teach it to me?”

Finishing her rapid-fire question that came tumbling out of her mouth, Missy blushed but didn’t take her eyes off the parahuman sitting on the sofa, and she was thankful that none of her friends interrupted.

This was too important for that.

She wanted to know.

No, she needed to know.

Weaver looked at her, then at the eagerly awaiting Wards, and sighed with a small smile on her face.

“Well, Vista, that is a good question. To tell the full truth, I wasn’t really singing. It was really more of a chant for my power to take effect. The reason it sounded like a song was because of the language.”

It was a little disappointing that it wasn’t actually a song, but Missy didn’t really care.

“Chanting? Like magic?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes, exactly,” came the reply immediately from Weaver.

Missy wanted to say a lot of things, but she felt it wasn’t the right time.

Plus, with how parahuman powers were, who said there wasn’t actual magic out in the universe?

So instead, she focused on another part of the information she gained.

“And another language? What kind? I read that nobody recognized it…”

Weaver gave her a smile that somehow conveyed that the elder woman knew exactly what Missy was thinking, then continued to explain.

“Indeed, it is a language I learned in a different dimension. But that’s not really important. You wanted to know more about the singing, so how about I show you what it is like when somebody fantastic sings?”

Missy opened her mouth to ask about the other dimensions, and she knew the others were also curious, but Weaver didn’t leave them any time to ask questions.

She simply snapped her fingers, and the room they were in changed into a meadow with a giant tree in the middle.

And it wasn’t like those redwoods she saw in textbooks that needed maybe dozens of people to encircle. No, this tree was so enormous that the top was enveloped in clouds.

The entire area was devoid of people or anything that screamed civilization, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t alive.

The grass swayed, the bushes rustled, and everything was alight with fireflies and other bioluminescent fauna as they flew around, seemingly without reason.

Then it happened, the meadow fell into shadow; the sun shining through the branches of the tree suddenly vanished, replaced by the gentle beams of the moon, and then music appeared.

For a moment, all of them just listened in awe and watched the scenery around them, astounded, then the singing started.

For a moment, Missy feared that the language would still be incomprehensible, but then she began picking out words.

“Fear not this night…”

Soon, the entire Wards team was enjoying a song unknown to them, sung by a goddess of nature, wiping away all their troubles, easing their stress, and making them forget their worries for at least the duration of the song.

**

He typed away at his workstation, frowning sometimes, smiling at other times, but still working towards his eventual goal.

Granted, the arrival of the annoying Weaver had thrown a small wrench into his plans, but he could work with that. Then she decided to double down and kill the fucking Simurgh, causing all eyes to point at Brockton Bay.

But no matter, he was smart, resourceful, and he had the perfect power for the job.

Still, he had to move around some assets, scrap several plans, as he knew they wouldn't work due to either Weaver or the increased attention, but now he was ready.

After weeks of investigation, research, espionage, some leg-breaking, and more than a little torture, he finally had enough information to begin his plan.

Originally, he wanted to use the Undersiders to cause a diversion while the adult parahumans were out of the city, or otherwise occupied, but now that everybody was in the city and making sure nothing happened, that plan was more than useless.

Granted, he understood why they were doing that, as, after the death of the Simurgh, it was more than likely that the Fallen would try to lash out against Weaver.

And nobody liked those cultists…

So, he had to put together another plan.

A plan that would cause an equal amount of distraction, like, for example, a bank robbery.

And while he was mulling over what he should do, he realized something.

Everybody wanted to know about Weaver…

Why not give it to them?

Thus, over the past weeks, he combed through every database, collected every recording possible, and gathered as much information as possible through his usual contacts and his Tattletale.

While he personally didn't believe a word that came out of Weaver's mouth about her ‘past’, it didn't mean it wouldn't work as a great distraction.

Especially with the added information about her past with Shadow Stalker.

Then he would swoop in, as the city and country were distracted by the revelations, he would acquire the last piece he would need to take over the city. With luck, the revelations about Shadow Stalker would be enough to remove Piggot from her office, allowing him to take over even earlier.

He engaged his power to do some testing, but before he could even do anything, he felt a delicate hand settle on his shoulder in both timelines.

For a horrible moment, he froze, thinking she was there, but then he saw in the reflection of his monitor that it was just Taylor Hebert, in all her glory in a hoodie, one hand on his shoulder and another holding some kind of drink.

Then his power, for lack of a better word, crashed, and a blinding headache caused him to cry out and hunch over himself.

Then Weaver spoke up.

"Let's talk, Thomas…"

And he knew no more.

**

“Hey, Overwatch!”

Danny turned around and beheld Assault, or Ethan, as he walked towards him, dodging through the other people with a smile on his face.

He raised a hand in greeting.

“Hello, Assault!”

He watched the man nearing him, and he could see and feel the man almost vibrating. Even after barely a few months of working for the Protectorate, he was already familiar with Assault.

So, knowing the other man had a lot of questions, he opened the door to his office and motioned the other man inside without saying anything.

Ethan just happily nodded at him, then literally skipped into the room.

He sighed, then followed the other hero while closing the door behind himself.

He found Assault sitting in one of the chairs, looking around at the numerous giant screens with interest.

Danny took off his jacket, placing it in its proper place, then turned towards the other man.

“So, Assault, Ethan. How can I help you?”

“Danny!” exclaimed Ethan with a giant grin. “How can you be like that? Can’t I visit my newest friend just like that?”

Somewhat used to Taylor’s irreverence after her return from wherever she was, he just gave him a look.

Assault at least had the decency to look a little abashed. Taylor usually just laughed at him.

“Okay, okay. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

Assault raised his hand and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, so I listened to the song thingy your daughter did in Canberra, then listened to the song she showed to the Wards, and I was wondering if you could ask her, pretty please, if she could do a proper recording?”

Danny blinked, then tried to process what he had heard. Finally, he settled on a simple question.

“Why?”

It was rather weird that Assault refused to look directly into his eyes.

“I… I mean, it helps me sleep…” answered the man in a voice barely above a whisper.

He looked back at the other parahuman and nodded in understanding. He knew how hard it was sometimes to go to sleep, especially after triggering.

He still saw Taylor’s empty room almost every night in his nightmares.

He stepped closer to the younger man, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him an encouraging smile. For a long time, he was powerless to help anyone. Be it Taylor, himself, or even the city.

So, now, when the opportunity came to help somebody, he would do his best to help his friend.

“Of course, Ethan, I will ask…”

**

Taylor sat in her room, comfortably on a chair she had brought with her, as Earth Bet wasn’t really famous for chairs that were enchanted for comfort.

Across from her was a gigantic holographic screen showing numerous graphs, data streams, and even videos of different scenes, and in the middle was the picture of her friend Taimi.

In the background, she could even see Gorrik lounging on some mysterious piece of technology.

“So, what did you make of the data I sent you?”

Taimi frowned.

“You were right, Taylor. There would’ve definitely been a catastrophic exothermic event if the item in question left the dimension.”

“Well, I’d say I’m happy hearing that, but…”

Taimi nodded along, understanding her friend.

“But I made some progress deciphering some of the data streams. It’s extremely complex, Taylor, but for some reason, I can’t detect anything magical about it.”

“It rejects it?” asked Taylor with a raised eyebrow.

Taimi shook her head.

“No… It’s like it doesn’t even know about magic. No imprint, no echo, nothing.”

Taylor hummed a little as she digested that, then continued.

“So, we are dealing with something or somebody that has no idea magic exists.”

“Exactly,” came the excited reply from the asura in front of her. “And based on the information you’ve provided about the powers that your world seems to have, I’ve come to the conclusion that they are using some kind of extremely advanced technology to produce the so-called powers.”

“Makes sense…”

“Sadly, I can’t give you anything more concrete until I break the encryption on the data streams. Though the tap you’ve provided on the entity your race named Simurgh is very useful, it will still take a few weeks to fully break the encryption.”

“No worries, Taimi. I’m in no rush.”

The tiny asura nodded, then Taylor could see the excitement rise to another level on her face, and she could see her vibrating in place.

“Then can we do that? Can we? I can’t wait to see what happens! We’ve only theorized what would happen if a—”

Taylor raised a hand and, with laughter in her voice, spoke up.

“Easy, Taimi. Sure, we can do it. Get your recording equipment ready, and I’ll get things ready on my side too…”

**

Taylor sat at her desk, updated from the old thing to a respectable, fully metal designer desk, which even included access to the alnet.

Even if she was on vacation, she still wanted to keep up with the news of Tyria, talk with her friends, and be jealous of the pictures from Petra about her vacation to the beach.

Nonetheless, currently, she wasn’t about to do anything with the desk or alnet.

Instead, Taylor was directing all her attention to the silver case on the desk. Attached to the case were several instruments, both of her own making and several from Taimi.

The giant holographic screen was still showing several data streams and diagnostic information, and she could see that Taimi was watching even more screens.

“Ready, Taimi?”

“Ready as I ever will be!” came the enthusiastic reply.

Taylor nodded, then reached for the clasps of the case, and with one simple movement, opened the case.

Inside the briefcase was a deluge of Tinkertech, with a simple digital screen and a small keyboard.

Taylor smirked, cracked her fingers, then, after a cursory look, began typing away, while Taimi watched her with undisguised glee, sometimes muttering as the tiny asura watched the readings on the uncountable screens around her.

“Hello, Dragon…”

**

Dragon was happy and incredibly busy.

After the Hopekiller’s defeat, she had to organize the full search of the city for still-alive people, help with the evacuation and triage, check whether the late Endbringer had influenced anyone, and then assist with salvage and reconstruction.

Then, back in North America, she had to deal with the increased crime due to all the partying, and she had to attend several parties herself while also handling the usual responsibilities.

So it was rather nice to have a little chat with Narwhal, just talking about things and, for a while, pretending the world outside of the room they were in didn’t exist.

She was listening to Narwhal teasing her about Colin when she was distracted by several of her processes shifting in behavior.

Immediately noticing the anomalous activity, she tried to stop it and instantly began investigating the cause, Narwhal temporarily forgotten.

Then the feed from Narwhal’s room cut off.

Then, one by one, every feed to the outside world cut off while she desperately worked with inhuman speed to slow the seemingly impending shutdown originating from somewhere she couldn’t locate.

Then Dragon found herself in complete darkness. Not even the tiniest feeds to the outside world were returning data.

She was about to panic – or something similar – when she found herself and her code somewhere else.

**

Narwhal stopped her explanation about high-heeled shoes (how people could not notice that Dragon was an AI was a mystery to her) when she noticed that the monitor her friend was talking to her through blinked a few times.

Getting up from the sofa, she went over and gave the monitor a good whack just as before; she was happy to see that the image immediately came back (while making a note to get a new one), and she smiled at her synthetic friend.

“Sorry, Tess, this ancient thing has been doing this for the last month or so. Everything alright on your side?”

Dragon, or Tess to her friends, gave her a blinding smile, somehow looking much livelier than ever before responding.

“Of course, Nora. Everything is perfect.”

Narwhal nodded, then returned to her seat and snacks and continued her lecture where she had stopped.

“So, the relation of the height of the heels and the…”

**

Amy sat on the rooftop of Brockton Bay General, in her preferred spot where nobody could see her (after a crazy paparazzi incident, she always made sure to stay out of sight) and took a long drag of her cigarette.

She was exhausted.

After Weaver returned triumphantly from Australia, for a moment, she was extremely happy.

Then Amy realized she would be the one who would be dealing with all the idiots who hurt themselves by partying. Granted, there were the other doctors, and technically Weaver was also on call, but she just knew that nobody would call the too beautiful parahuman to heal people who were celebrating her. Instead, they would call her.

And she wasn't even getting paid.

Nor was she old enough to go out to drink herself unconscious…

What a cursed existence she had…

At least her workload had decreased since Weaver joined her in healing, though it was a little satisfying that she was still faster than the older woman.

That wasn't even to mention the increased presence of parahumans who were trying to do something in Brockton Bay.

She didn't really know why or for what they came, but ever since Weaver killed the Simurgh (and looked good doing it, the bitch), several new parahumans set up shop in the city.

Of course, the already established gangs didn't take this lying down, and fights immediately broke out.

Thus, once again, increasing her workload.

So, here she was, on a beautiful March weekend, sitting (hiding) on the roof of the hospital, smoking and trying to work up the willpower to get back to all those annoying people…

"Oh, Panacea, you are so great…"

"How could we ever repay you…"

"Please heal this…"

"Please, heal me…"

"Heal me..."

"Heal me..."

"Heal me..."

"Heal me..."

"Ugh," she exclaimed, throwing away the cigarette in her hand in anger, then grumpily retrieving the box, noting in annoyance that it was her last one.

She retrieved it while carelessly throwing away the box (she always picked it up, but it felt good just throwing it away), lit it up, and took a hopefully relaxing drag.

Amy was about halfway finished with the cigarette when an enormous roar shook her, the building she was in, and, based on the sounds, the entire city.

Amy jumped up, the cigarette falling out of her mouth and forgotten, as she looked around, trying to find the source of the roar.

Seeing nothing on the ground, despite her excellent vantage point, she began to scan the sky.

It took her barely a second to find the origin, and when she saw it, she had to take several steps back due to the surprise she felt.

She barely had a moment to process what she saw as the sirens came alive, and she could practically hear the city panicking.

Taking another look at the object of fear in the sky, she made a quick decision.

She turned around and began running downstairs.

Weaver was present at the hospital, and if anybody could deal with that, then it would be their resident Endbringer killer.

Behind Amy, in the sky, rapidly approaching the city of Brockton Bay from the west, was an enormous dragon.

It was around fifty feet in length, with a gargantuan wingspan across all four wings.

Silver-black scales, tainted with disturbing red, covered its entire body, even over the four hands and the two oddly shaped legs. Its tail was dotted with numerous gigantic spikes, some of them even having their own spikes, while the dragon's spine also contained spikes. They weren't as prominent as the spikes on its tail, but they still looked extremely deadly. And if someone were to get close enough, they would see that most of the spikes were leaking a green, viscous liquid.

But the most horrific part of the monster was its front side.

Its neck extended almost ten feet, ending in a head that was relatively small compared to the entire body, but then the dragon opened its maw, shaped like an X, and roared, rattling glass and setting off car alarms, while the sirens were still going on.

All in all, it was monstrous, and its eyes showed no mercy, no thought, just simple burning rage…

Then it turned slightly, as if on command, opened its weirdly shaped maw, and spewed a torrent of fire.

While the fire dissipated into the air, the motion caused the dragon to turn slightly, thus allowing the observers to see its side properly.

The sky was without clouds, and the midday sun was perfect to illuminate it.

Thus, the people on the ground, back in the PRT and Protectorate headquarters, or even the people watching through the internet, could get an excellent look at it.

On it, seared into the scales darkened by soot, was a gigantic character, the wound still oozing blood.

The character was simple and recognizable to everybody:

“9”