Sorli staggered back a half step, the broadsword protruding from the direct center of his chest. He managed to get his arms up in front of his face and head before the burst of icicles from Atreyu's bow made contact, soared off of his feet, and landed in a crumpled heap at Isto's feet.

Isto dropped to his knees immediately, doing his best to cradle Sorli without stabbing himself on the weapon.

"Well, I got it away from him," Sorli gasped.

"That's... that's not what I meant, kid," Isto said.

His voice was soft, tender, on the verge of breaking, a stark contrast to his aura. The Dragon had manifested completely, roaring and thrashing swatting aside the oversized icicles and a frenzied rage.

"Are you gonna..." Sorli wheezed, "argue this thing out of my chest or..."

Sorli coughed and shook for an instant before going slack in Isto's arms.

"Kid? Kid! This isn't funny," Isto cracked, "Sorli? Sorli!"

"That shot was meant for you, Fafnir," Atreyu gloated "now that the riff-raff is out of the way -"

Isto's blazer impacted with Atreyu's face, silencing him for a moment.

"How dare you," Isto growled, his mouth crowding with teeth as he spoke, "that boy knew more about heroism than you, or your entire fucking line of ancestors ever could."

"You know not of what you speak!" Atreyu challenged.

Scales rippled out across Isto's skin and expanded, smothering the well-dressed man before billowing out into the very limits of his aura.

"You wanted to kill a Dragon, Atreyu?" Isto roared as the aura sank into his scales, illuminating him from within.

The remaining maze walls shattered and crumbled as Isto, in his true form, roared. Baleful emerald flames erupted from the gaps between his scales, his eyes, flaring nostrils, and mouth.

Atreyu leaped away, raining shot after shot down on the gargantuan target. The missiles bounced harmlessly off of Isto's scales as he curled around Sorli's body, shielding it from the onslaught. Isto's giant blue eye hovered just inches from the fallen super.

"I'll make him pay, kid."

Atreyu stalled in the air as Isto launched from the ground, unfurling two pairs of wings, and propelling himself at the super with a single flap. He dodged the maw of teeth and fire and showered Isto's side with razor sharp icicles.

"You'll have to be faster than -"

Atreyu's taunt was cut off as Isto's hand slammed against him, then squeezed. The dragon pivoted in the air and dove straight for the floor, slamming its hand, and Atreyu into it.

"You'll... not... defeat me... so... easily..." Atreyu grunted as he pushed against the scaly palm pressing him further and further into the floor.

"I haven't started trying to defeat you, Atreyu. No... not yet... first," Isto's voice seemed to resonate and project from the dragon's chest instead of its mouth, "first, you suffer, then you die."

The dragon's maw wrenched open and a torrent of flame poured out. Atreyu slapped his hands to the floor, creating a dome of ice that bought him the precious seconds he needed to coat his body in enchanted rime.

The viridian flames washed over Atreyu, and though they didn't burn him immediately, they did send him tumbling across the floor, rolling over the sharp craggy remains of the maze.

Then they burned.

Atreyu screamed, writing in agony as the fire clung to him.

Isto reared up and slammed both of his claws down on top of Atreyu's legs, shattering the bones instantly.

"You are a pathetic excuse for a hero! You are weak! Selfish! Arrogant! Unworthy!" Isto roared before belching more flame onto Atreyu's pinned form.

The flames parted in the center, washing over a billowing sphere of magic.

"Isto, that's enough..." The Supplier said.

"Move, Mallika, I'm not done with him yet."

She floated upward, toward Isto's elongated snout.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Tell me what happened, Isto... I'm right here, I'm not going to hurt you... you're safe," The Supplier offered her words slowly, deliberately, and softly.

"It was supposed to be me," Isto confessed, "he shot the sword at me..."

"And Sorli saved you, didn't he?" The Supplier asked.

Isto remained silent. The Supplier outstretched her hand and planted it firmly between his nostrils.

"Isto, I need you to look at me."

The dragon's eyes, burning red with hate in place of their normal analytical blue, locked on the floating devil-woman.

"Sorli made a choice, he chose to save you. he took that action, no one made him do it, right?"

"Yes, Mal... you're right."

"And we honor the decisions of those we love, even if we don't agree with them, don't we?" she asked.

"We do."

"Atreyu won't be able to hurt you anymore, he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore."

"He needs to die!" Isto roared, lurching forward and pushing against The Supplier's hand.

"And he will!" she answered, shoving back against him with strength that only magic would allow for, "I will end him for you. I will not allow you to lose yourself to the Dragon, Isto!"

Isto let out a pained sigh.

"I'm right here, Isto. You don't have to be big and scary anymore, come back, please?"

Isto's blue gaze returned as the dragon rapidly receded into the tall, slim, blonde-haired man that was Isto Raita. He wiped the back of his sleeve across his eyes and took in a deep breath as The Supplier approached him and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Thanks, Mal..." he muttered.

"Do you think they are going to... you know... besar?" Go Loud asked Panzer in the observatory.

“Cállate, papi!” Shadow scolded.

----------------------------------------

"What a waste," Viskol scoffed, nudging Sorli's body with the tip of his shoe, "and what a fucking mess."

The director strode through the wreckage, looking out over it with disdain plain on his face. A pile of debris shifted and collapsed as Psycher toppled out of it.

"Guidry?"

"Director?"

"What the hell happened down here?" Viskol demanded.

Psycher was in rough shape, her face and hair were smeared with blood and there were holes through her shoulder, thigh, and chest.

"A bunch of villains got in, and the traitor, to spring Grimm Raven, Atreyu showed up with his own private army another building landed on top of this building, and then all hell broke loose."

"Sounds about right," Viskol commented.

"Sir?"

Viskol held his hand out in Psycher's direction, closed his fist, and twisted his wrist.

Her neck snapped and she collapsed to the ground as an inky black mist wafted out of her collapsed form and up into Viskol's hand.

"Still need more..." The Director muttered.

----------------------------------------

Sorli sat up.

The world around him was hazy, almost empty aside from the echoes of his movements and the far off sound of footsteps.

"Hello?"

The words echoed back at him and the footsteps he'd heard in the distance were suddenly very close.

"Who are you, boy?"

Another voice laden with Irish brogue, this time, a man's spoke from behind Sorli. He whirled around to see no one.

"My name's Sorli... am I dead?"

"Sorli, eh? Had a son with that name not long ago... you wouldn't happ'n to be him, would ya?"

The voice and echoing footsteps seemed to be coming from all around Sorli.

"I never met my father, and if you are him, I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"I doubt that boyo."

The footsteps stopped in front of Sorli as a man seemed to materialize out of thin air. His hair was blonde, streaked with blood like his hands that gripped a sinister looking spear and a badly knicked short sword. He was imposing, both in stature and physique as most of it was exposed.

"Oh, I dunno, I've fought bigger," Sorli challenged.

"I tell ya, boy, I've lived more lives than you might care to think, killed more men than you've met, and only e'er loved one woman -"

Sorli slammed two jabs up into the man's jaw, dropped a right hook into his ribs, and pivoted, planting his fingertips against the man's sternum before collapsing them into a one-inch punch, sending the large man staggering away.

"I hate liars..." Sorli growled.

"An' what lie did I tell?"

"Only loved one woman... where the fuck were you then?"

"Ah, I see. I didn't think you'd understand."

"You might be surprised."

"See, me n' your ma gettin' together was a bit of an accident. But once we were, well, everything else was on purpose," the man dropped the tip of his spear and short sword into the ground and took a lower stance, his hands out to the side and open like claws, "but if it's a fight yer wantin' I got one for ya right here."

Sorli lunged forward again, sizing up his opponent as he advanced. The same series of strikes he'd used to crack open Freefall's Crash Suit had barely left bruises on this man's body, his stance was grounded, he was strong, tough, and confident. Sorli stopped short of the man's reach went up on the balls of his feet and hopped back, narrowly avoiding the grabbing hands that pursued him.

He danced in, circling the man, weaving in and out of heavy sweeping strikes and firing off jabs at a blistering pace.

"Are ya tryin' to tickle me into submission?" the man asked.

Sorli dodged another swipe and drove a straight cross directly into the man's nose, forcing him to stagger back. Blood flowed out like water from a faucet.

"Nope," Sorli answered.

He rushed in again, repeating the same pattern, dodging around the man's heavy strikes and firing off as many fast punches as he could in response; this time though, when the man left himself open for Sorli's right-handed cross, the young super leaped up and twisted, striking the side of the man's face with a dragging left kick and driving his face down to the ground with a heavy falling left heel kick.

Sorli danced back, bouncing on the balls of his feet, still at the ready.

The man started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Chip off the ol' block you are, son," The man answered before getting back to his feet.

"The ol' fart that was here before I said some of the same shite that I did, about bein' better and whatnot, but I showed him nice and proper, and you've done the same to me."

"Is that why he didn't answer?" Sorli asked before he could reconsider.

"Aye, y'see for all of that 'Vidar' talk, the ol' fart was holdin' back your real power. I know that devil-woman helped you to get at it once, I'm gonna help you to get there again an' make sure you don't get shut out from it."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"I'm goin' to tell you who you really are, where your power comes from. I'm gonna tell you who I am, an' who your mum was."

"Okay, so who are you?"

"I am Cú Chulainn."