Chapter Text
"…the children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"
The words drew out fear and the metal taste of blood in my mouth. I tried to make sense of it, but there wasn't anything else Lung could mean. My fear was subsumed by—not rage, but something else, fiery and hot-blooded—as my power kicked in, changing my body. My hair rose, spiked rather than curly. Four pairs of wings, made out of transparent light, formed and guided me into the air.
The emerald green glow that took over my whole body left me without any chance to keep hiding. I charged forward, and made my energy form a bubble shield around myself. Gun-toting gangsters all leveled their weapons at me, and most fired. All missed. I was moving too fast and too suddenly for their aim, extending a fist and letting out a cry as I descended towards Lung. As fast as I could, as hard as I could, I didn't want his fire healing him and giving me a monster to fight.
I couldn't tell at first if the noisy crack was the concrete below him, or the breaking of Lung's skull, spine, or any other bones. A blink, and reviewing my handiwork showed it to likely be the latter. I stare for a moment. Did I just take out Lung? I ask myself, unbelieving, when the supersonic crack of a rifle shot takes me back to reality. And after it, I heard the noise quite like glass shattering. I leap, and take flight to the solace of a neighboring building, through an open window four stories up. Turning, I can see where the shot had landed. My forceshield wasn't bullet proof, but resistant, and the bullet was sticking half through it, the clear material cracked like glass.
A brief exertion of will restores the shield, flinging the brass slug away. Before I could muse on the usefulness of that property, several gangsters recover their prudence of mind, opening fire on the window of my escape. I hit the floor, teeth grit. They probably couldn't hit me from this angle.
Yellow light. Some people yelling, and then running. Yellow light, getting brighter. Gunfire stops. I barely even think, standing and again leaping from the window. My recklessness paid off here, a fireball skirting under my feet and into the building. The explosion blows me further into the air.
I look down to Lung, holding myself in the air. The villain was taller now, and bigger. His hands had become clawed, and if I squinted, I could see scales forming across his chest. The first thing he'd done since standing up was to send a wave of fire in every direction. That helped light up the place, and it's why I didn't have to worry about gunshots coming my way right now.
That's good for me, I remark, as I burst down towards Lung, once more with all the speed I can manage. This time, the draconic armor was starting to travel up from his wrists, and he reacted to my charge. Not fast enough, as while he raises his hands, my bubble shielded self still hits cleanly. While this hit knocked him flat on his back, it really just made him mad. That's not good.
I rise into the air and strike down again. Again, and again, and again and again, everything I can manage into stomping this piece of shit further into the pavement. Then I'm stopped, by huge scaled arms gripping the forcefield with strength enough almost to crack it. Looking into Lung's masked face, I see that I got more than a bit carried away. Then he lights himself, and the surroundings of my field, on fire. The heat takes moments to seap in, but it feels like I'm being steamed.
He says something. I'm not sure what, or even if it was in English. The all-surrounding flames demand my attention. I force my will further into the forcefield, and the sweltering seems to abate. Slightly. It's not going to work like this, I need to get out of this hold. Lung takes a moment, readying to redouble his crushing efforts. That's the opening I need, closing my field and hitting the ground like a rock.
I flew away faster than I thought I could. My everything was scorched, but all of it except my hair had been put out by my expeditious retreat. The really burned parts of my body are numb at first, and would start to sting later. I'm laser-focused on Lung, my emerald eyes shining just as bright as his.
I blink.
The monster—the man—is on top of me. I yelp, and toss up another shield. He backhands it, and the entirety of the world before me is covered in cracks. I'm not hurt—until the launch from his swing takes me to a lamppost. The shield shatters, and the back of my costume has probably just saved my life. I'm lying on the ground now, but I could barely even tell that much.
Vision blurred, senses dull. I think a vessel burst in one of them: I can only see out of the other. Despite the pain, which is so intense that it's just dull everywhere, I seem more aware than ever. Lung, all but a dragonling now, was walking towards me. Flames in his eyes—metaphorical—told me there'd be no mercy. Flames in his hands—not metaphorical at all—told me the instrument of that vengeance.
I try to breathe in, but it's just a painful wheeze. I try to stand up, but there's no movement to be had. All I could really do was think about this… and use my power. Words fill my mind. Words and visions… I don't know what I'm seeing, or why I'm thinking this. But somehow, it drives me to my feet.
Lung's glaring at me now. My power is shining brighter than it ever has, and it's guiding me. One foot set forward, crouching. Put my hands together and stretched forward. I didn't know what it was until now, but the symbol of the G-Stone shines on my forehead. It guides me.
It tells me… words, in a dead language. I obey in a chant. "Gemu, giru… gan go gufo!"