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B 6 C 194: Open Air

Despite me being on the way to dying, my consciousness fading from me, I witness Lil’s ascension. The transformation begins. It's like watching a miracle and a cataclysm rolled into one. Lil's form shimmers, outlined in a corona of lightning. His scales start to glow, turning from their usual red to a vibrant, pulsating crimson, like the heart of a star. They're etched with patterns of lightning, a living tapestry of storm and fire. His wings unfurl, magnificent and terrifying. They're larger now, more powerful, each beat sending ripples of electricity through the air. They're like sails crafted from the night sky itself, dotted with constellations of sparking energy.

His eyes, once warm and friendly, are now windows to a storm, swirling with blues and whites, crackling with lightning. There's a depth to them, a wisdom and a wildness that wasn't there before. It's like looking into the heart of the storm, seeing the raw, unbridled chaos and beauty of nature itself. His body ripples with newfound power, muscles coiling and uncoiling with an easy grace. There's a sense of immense strength there, a force of nature given form. He's bigger, fiercer, more dragon than ever, but still Lil. There's a playful glint in those new wild eyes, a reminder that beneath the storm, he's still your best pal.

The horde finishes breaking through once more, and it’s upon us. Each of us are probably one or two small injuries away from death. Well, Lil was. Now he’s something else. Lil lets out a roar, and it's like thunder cracking the sky in half. It's a sound of triumph, of change, of a new beginning. The air crackles around him, the very atmosphere bending to his will. He's not just a dragon anymore; he's a living storm, a red dragon reborn in lightning and flame. Lil deserves this. Lil has fought so hard, for so long, to be a big dragon, basically his one and only desire.

That desire's always been to be a dragon powerful enough to protect himself and his family from everything. This is Lil, just... more of him. He's something beyond now, something extraordinary. I can feel even his mental avatar swelling to colossal proportions, taking up more bandwidth in our thinkspace. He’s new, bigger Lil, easily in the Behemoth class, if not Brobdingnagian class, and he's on our side. Imagine Lil trying to help Te with her ocean of emotions in thinkspace? Yeah, you're definitely going to need a bigger boat. Or maybe just a sturdier umbrella.

Suddenly I’m in RS2, my lycanthrope form faded, and the Stone in Two Parts feels like I’m wearing the core of a star on my finger. Friggin’ hot, ow, ow, ow. Wait. When the Sun shone a specific way, the true Hero is restored? Friggin’ prophecies. I think I just lost my lycanthrope transformation entirely though, I think it died as I was dropping back to RS2. Gorram it all. I got two fights out of the thing before losing it. I never even got to use its draconic lycanthropy. Just how much did the Stone in Two Parts restore me in this stone temple pit?

I feel at the top of my game, in every way. Sort of, mostly. Physically anyway. Today’s still gotten me more than a bit addle-brained. My electrokinesis and cryokinesis are easier to use than ever, and a heady feeling is washing over me, causing me to swell with unearned confidence. Parts of me want to be cocky and face down the horde together. Those parts of me are idiots, and would get Teuila killed at the very least.

I can already see sand dragons returning to their natural forms as they swell, charging their breath weapons. If any of them have animate breath… I shake my head quickly, rattling my skull. No time to think about that. Lil, I hope you’re getting used to your new body buddy. I hope it’s permanent too, but based on the strain in our mental realm, I don’t think Teuila, me, or Lil could handle it being permanent yet.

Stumbling as I’m run through by several javelins rather surprisingly—so much for being physically refreshed—I cough and burble, stuck on the barbed lances now shunted through my form. Wow. Just wow. One thing you never want to do? Back a good dragon into a corner. Another thing you never want to do? Let him achieve a new evolution. Lastly, the thing you should really, really, never ever do? Nearly kill that dragon’s best pal in front of them as they’re acclimating to a new tier of power.

I could cry with joy at the ferocity with which Lil saves me. It feels like having my best friend back, seeing the love and hurt in his eyes as he witnesses me being injured. I’m so touched by his love. Touched, and being dragged away into a snarling mass of zealotous horde on chained, hooked javelins. Oh, right, that one effect of that one runic clip. OW!

Oh holy fekking gods, ow ow ow. Okay, so, good news, the runic clip that locks me in place like an immovable object still works—functions really well actually—but the bad news is barbed large objects running through parts of your body don’t stop moving just because you do. Nor does the horde of maniacs stop slinging painful, near-disintegrating spells your way, nor do they stop swinging their lightning-laced weapons at you.

Holy effing crap. Okay, that was agony on another new level I never want to experience again. Been a few of those today. Of course, I’m also getting a migraine now, maybe from the sudden change in the amount of blood in my body, or lack thereof.

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Lil and Te aren’t taking it sitting down either, but I’m seeing Teuila flinch and falter. Pleading, I call out, “Lil, grab us and get us out of here! Teuila, focus on the seat of power with Packbutt’s dragonforce, and nuke the site from orbit! It’s the only way to get clear.”

It seems that the shouting was too much for my poor body to take with my rapid back and forth between near death, full resuscitation, and back to the former. I’m blinking slower and slower as I see Teuila trying to buy herself time while flying—maybe just leaping, can’t tell in this much pain—to Lil’s back. Lil makes a mad blitz through the horde. Unfortunately, despite his ferocity, his new storm related powers aren’t really helping him out here. Fortunately, Lil’s still one of the most ferocious Reds to ever have lived, and now more powerful, more full of air in his lungs than ever. I welcome the flames that wash over me as he rushes to pick me from the ashes of the horde as more swarm through to finish us off.

Focusing on my internal electrokinesis, I try to work on patching up the damage as quickly as I can while I’m still conscious. I hear Teuila screaming, “Air!” with tears in her eyes, but can’t see her for some reason. I can hear Lil’s rumbling and the roar of his flames, but it sounds so far away. I feel like I’m falling, slipping, being pulled or sucked into someth—I am—something bad, maybe. There’s a memory, something calling out to me.

Forgetting myself, forgetting the dangers that memories pose to me, I start to give in and let it happen, curious what the force is trying to tell me. Then I remember, that remembering could get me killed, could get Te killed. I struggle against this unseen force, this pull, and it feels like it takes years to fight it. I’m clawing and scrabbling at nothing, as more and more of my hair falls into my face. Wait, no, not more hair, longer hair. More white hair. What? Ow, my brain. Holy crap ow. I… I can’t. I’m slipping.

Thankfully, I’m not alone. Two of the strongest people in any universe, that care about me as deeply as I care about them, fight through—something—to get to me. Everything is hazy, but when Teuila drags me into her arms, and Lil wraps us both in his limbs against his chest, and wraps his wings around his limbs, I feel safe, content, warm, happy even. There’s a pain as we become a shared lightning bolt. But it’s hardly one we’re unfamiliar with.

The entire world is rumbling as we leave it behind. I’m not using hyperbole. I mean, as far as I can tell anyway. It feels like it takes no time at all before Lil is high above the clouds of the Worldstorm. He’s grunting, and struggling with something, so Te and I climb out of his grip onto his back to free his limbs and wings. Below us is absolute chaos as a storm—the Worldstorm obviously—swallows a mountain, and the mountain tries to fight back, to no avail. All of that coalesced, collected energy, the missing chunk of the Worldstorm? It’s breaking free as Teuila hits the figurative self-destruct button on the supervillain’s lair.

It seems like Rayileklia itself is pissed off at the confrontation, shaking and spasming beneath us as it tries to make room for the soon-to-be-crater that was once Stormspire Peak. There’s a cacophony that I can’t describe, and somehow the scent of death, of gore, overpowers everything else, even the impressively intense aroma that is the odor of ozone of the ever-present lightning of the Worldstorm, or the acrid tinge of its acidic clouds. Then, it’s as if thousands of voices cried out at once, and were suddenly silenced. Oh, wait, they probably were. Gruesome, but effective.

Way to go Teuila, way to go Lil. Because of you two, we took down over ten percent of Terrorzin’s forces in a single offensive. Their mental avatars smile my way, but each of us has a pounding headache as Te and Lil try to maintain Lil’s new form. This isn’t tenable. We’re going to be okay, but we’re not strong enough yet to give Lil the form he deserves permanently.

Flashing him a sad expression, my telepathic avatar’s eyes wet, I start to apologize, but Lil interrupts me with an unholy pained whine and a shriek of agony as he has to begin letting go of his enhanced form. It isn’t fair. I’m sorry Lil. I whisper, “I’m so sorry buddy.”

A half-sob catches in my throat, Te and Lil similarly gulp back their emotions as the overwhelmingly powerful tether between them begins to fade, shrinking down to the thin filament of energy we’re used to sharing with each other. Whispering to Lil, I console, “You’re still the best, bravest dragon pal I could ever ask for Lil. I love you so much. Can you still get us home pal?”

With a sad half smile, Lil nods, responding, “Sure thing Rej, ain’t no problem pal. I think Te and I have this little tether stable. I can be a mega cool, mega mega mega cool jet-dragon long enough to get us home with it in a snap. You good for that Sunshine? Sunshine?”

My eyes go wide when Teuila doesn’t immediately respond or snark back at Lil using a nickname on her. We’re holding each other tightly, so I know she’s not derezzing, and her limbs are vibrating, moving, she’s not unconscious, she’s—oh Te—just crying her heart out silently into my chest.

I know exactly what she’s feeling, and my eyes well with tears as Te and I hold each other atop Lil. I whisper over and over, “You didn’t fail him. You didn’t. You didn’t fail him. You didn’t.”

Lil sucks back a sniffle as he wings us away towards Mount Solace, towards home. We were victorious, but the battle wasn’t won without its scars. Physical and emotional. Each of us has been pushed to our breaking points and beyond. I whisper to Te, “You did it Te. We did it. We went a hundred plus a hundred plus a hundred plus ultra percent.”

There’s a snotty, burbly laugh that cuts through the silent tears, the first sound I’ve heard Te make since we got free. I join her in making one of my own. I feel like I'm forgetting something though.