The Slaver King was intercepted by both Kim and Eric on his way to an after dinner interrogation.
“Walk and talk. I’ve got a tight schedule,” he said. “You first, Kim, good news, I hope.”
“No,” she said.
“Straight and to the point. So, hit me with it.”
“Nothing new on the people from California. We can’t get anything on them. They’ve been blocking all surveillance attempts this whole time. I thought if we stopped being nice, hands-off and turned up our efforts then we could get through whatever it is they’re doing. Still nothing. Your invitations have been received and I suppose the next move is on them.”
“It would simplify things if they tried to make a break for it, but I’m not hugely concerned. We have them surrounded, after all,” he smiled.
“There’s been another development. A storm’s coming. From the Atlantic. I’ve talked to our news meteorologist—”
“She’s got a great rack and that ass,” Eric whistled.
“C’mon, bro.”
“Sorry, King… er… and sorry to you too, Kim. I meant that she’s great, not solely for her body, but also for the way she turns perfectly when she does the weather report,” Eric said.
“I checked with a few others with the class or something similar. Consensus says that it’ll come ashore tomorrow night, anywhere from between five and seven,” Kim said.
“That’s weird as fuck. It’s not hurricane season,” Eric said. “Why did we just see it now?”
“We lack the old technology. Namely, satellites,” Kim said.
“How strong do they think it’s going to be?”
“Not a hurricane. Tropical storm, but not particularly dangerous. Lots of rain and winds topping out at around forty miles per hour,” Kim said.
“Quite a coincidence… well, can’t do anything about it. I believe we already have canopies over our outdoor seating areas for my guests.”
“Not for all of them. I’ll make sure the rest get covered,” Kim scribbled in her notebook.
“Thanks. As for the other stuff. I’ve already got my forces on high alert. Maybe, put more first responders on alert, but I’ll let you make that call, Kim.”
“My turn?” Eric said.
“The shipment?”
Eric cleared his throat. “Yeah, about that… they ran into some problems. So, anyways, the you know what is kinda crazy strong, right?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“No, it’s mostly cool,” Eric held up his hands. “It didn’t get away or anything like that. It only, sorta, maybe killed a few people and damaged a few trucks… but they got it back into its cage. And none of the other monsters escaped. Anyways, the captain assures me that they’re doing repairs and getting replacements. They’ll be on the road as soon as all that mess is taken care of,” he shrugged.
“What’s the new timetable?”
“Anywhere from midnight to nine in the morning…”
“That is not soon.”
“I’ll… uh… call the captain and tell him you want him to do it quicker,” Eric said.
“Thank you,” the king sighed. “Any other bad news?”
Kim and Eric shook their heads.
“Great!” he stepped into the elevator and waved them off.
His dungeons lay beneath his castle home.
It encompassed several levels where he kept particularly irksome individuals and special projects that were known to only a handful of trusted subjects.
Tunnels connected it to the most important building on his compound. The place that held the thing that made his kingdom work. Without it he would be nothing. Which was why he had quadrupled the guard in and around the building.
Armed guards on patrol greeted him as he made his way deeper.
He entered a long corridor with cells on both sides.
Most were empty.
The Freedom Championships had consumed his life nearly two years. It didn’t leave room for dealing with enemies. Lucky them.
He passed an occupied cell to his left.
The feral, unkempt man growled.
He stopped and regarded the man for a moment.
“I’m going to have more free time soon. I think we need to revisit our prior discussions and tests. Unless, you’ve decided that sitting in a cell for the past six, no, I believe it’s closer to nine, months is still preferable to swearing an oath to me for a place of honor and purpose. Not to mention all the ancillary benefits.”
“I’d never shake hands with a slaver,” the man spat.
King reacted quicker, jerking his head to the side.
“You and yours are filth. Gonna get outta here and gut you like the animal you are.”
“So very angry,” he chuckled. “Can’t wait to renew our… conversations.”
He continued on, passing more empty cells, until he neared the end of this wing.
One cell.
Nine people in various injured states.
The survivors of the escape attempt.
Such a shame.
They were fodder, but they had beaten the odds and survived several monster fights.
In the fullness of his generosity, he had halted their monster fights and made them available to be drafted as gladiators or into noble household guards as free people. No collars.
Obviously, he couldn’t overlook their little revolt.
Still, it’d be a waste to collar them when they showed such promise.
He needed a proper punishment to discourage future rebellions, while not ruining them.
Perhaps, they could be marketed as rebel gladiators.
He smiled.
The story lines wrote themselves.
A scar-faced, one-eyed girl glared balefully up at him.
The others strong enough to stand moved to shield her from his gaze.
“You’ve got a good look for a gladiator,” he said to the long-limbed young man with a Glasgow smile.
He left them to think about what they did and dread what he was going to do to them.
Past the wing, through several turns, found him at a special chamber for more dangerous individuals.
Guards saluted and opened the thick, steel door taken from the prison.
The center of the chamber contained a small cell. Large enough for a cot, a toilet and not much else.
It was enclosed in multiple layers of thick, bulletproof glass sandwiching iron bars.
Four mages sat at each side ready to cast shields.
“No escape attempts?” he said.
“No, your majesty.”
He tapped the glass. “Hey, you, wake up!”
The woman on the cot turned and eyed him with… nothing.
He had expected hatred, defiance. The usual.
Instead, he got the sense that she saw him as… what?
“Hanabi, if that’s your real name. I have an offer for you. Normally, I’d be really mad about what you did. You killed a lot of my subjects in your stupid escape attempt. Destroyed several trucks and guns. One armored vehicle. Do you know how hard it is to keep those running? It’s a total loss the way you sliced it up. Ironically, that’s why I’m going to be magnanimous and offer you the world. Swear an oath to serve me and I’ll give you whatever you want. A noble title? Wealth, status, power? You can take your trainees with you. I’m sure they’d make a great household guard, sponsored gladiators or any other useful position. Quite a long way from being fodder or collared.”
“You mean slaves,” she said flatly.
“Essential workers.”
“What’s their class?”
When he didn’t reply she continued.
“Thought so.”
“This isn’t a debate. It’s a job offer. So, that was the carrot. This is the stick,” he sighed ruefully. “Why do you people make it hard on yourselves? Your alternative is more pain than you can ever imagine. You see, I have to make an example of you, but I’m not one for wasting human capital. You’d agree that it’s the most important asset to have in our ongoing quest to reclaim our world and prepare for future invaders. So, you wouldn’t get a collar. It’d ruin you. Ruin your class. Swordmaster. First I’ve ever seen and so powerful. On an individual basis and as a force multiplier. You turned fodder into something with potential. Think of what you could do for high quality people.”
“You don’t know what that means.”
“Actually, I have a good eye for talent. It’s part of being a king. I have to know if people can be assets to my kingdom,” he chuckled. “As for this example? There’ll be… realignment. We’ll break you down and build you back up. Same for your fodder. Although, I might use them in your process. In that case, well, no guarantees for them, right? But, I wouldn’t stop with just them. You see, I’ve got a whole host of useful people under my command. Appraisers, diviners, profilers, analysts and so on. I’ve had them working overtime on you. Do you want to know what they’ve discovered?”
“Nothing useful. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“True, but they’ve come up with some stuff. Some interesting discoveries. It’s about links in the chain of you. Officially, you joined up with some mercs somewhere in Louisiana. Ended up here. Somehow flew under the radar and got a job training fodder. Up until that escape attempt. I was watching the video of it when I got an idea. An itch in the back of mind. A lot of things I hadn’t been paying attention to because I was so busy with everything else. Anyways, something about your fighting style… so, I had my people really look at it. Then compare it to all the fights we’ve recorded for the championships. Had some nerds program an algorithm and boom! Something interesting,” he grinned. “You see, I figured you’re a natural teacher. So, you taught somewhere else, yeah? Maybe… California?” he watched for a reaction. She was as still and cold as a statue. Impressive control. “The algo hit in a couple of cases. Subject 1: Amberknight part of the Watch from Northern California. Over ninety percent match to your style. Subject 2: Chandra, Rayna’s Rangers, Southern California. Subject 3: Swan Princess, also of Rayna’s Rangers. Both under sixty percent, but close enough for me when I consider the problems I’ve been having with those people. Did you know that I’ve lost contact with the ambassadors and soldiers I sent there?”
She stared at him.
“Strange that I had no problems with the northerners,” he shrugged. “Anyways, I tell you this because they’re all in my hands. Even though they’re Silver Division competitors and they didn’t win their events, I’ve invited them to my party. Nothing? No denials? No threats?”
She said nothing.
“Worried about truth spells,” he nodded, “smart.”
“I will kill you.”
“Now that’s the truth… as you see it, but as I imagine you know, the spell isn’t perfect. Delusion can fool it. Just because I think there’s a conspiracy against me doesn’t mean I’m paranoid,” he chuckled. “And, you’re adding to the pieces of the puzzle just by being in there. Whether you talk or not,” he shrugged. “Hell, maybe I use you to flush the rats out of my walls? Instead of the other way around. Ultimately, you have two paths before you. One is good. One sucks. And it’s not just for you. You want to drag those people, that one-eyed girl into the worst hell you can imagine? She’s already had a rough go of it from the way her face is carved up. Hmm… your profile says you’ve got a thing for helping poor little females get strong enough to protect themselves from the big, bad males. That’s what prompted you’re escape attempt after all.”
“Only your kind would have an issue with girls and women having the power to deny you.”
“Not true at all. I have plenty of capable women I rely on. Many of my finest gladiators are female. Even my first champion. Until she stabbed me in the back. So selfish. Are you selfish? Will you stand by and watch while your little girls pay for your stubbornness?”
“I already told you what I would do.”
“You’re in the real world now, girl. Not your make-believe fantasy land. There are consequences for your actions. I will hold you and yours accountable. You won’t destroy all the good I’ve built here. Frankly, the fate of the world rests on my shoulders and challengers like you only push our species closer to the brink. You have one hour to decide your fate. You can tell one of these guys,” he gestured to the mages.
The steel door shut with the sound of doom.
Not for him, but for Hanabi and the rest of her co-conspirators.
----------------------------------------
“I know it’s part of the plan, sir, but we don’t like the look of those clouds.”
Captain Butcher glanced to the east. Her HUD outlined the dark clouds approaching from the east many miles away.
“Scared of a little rain, Skyrat?”
“Not me, sir. Not with this awesome flight suit. I’m never taking it off again. It’s Neo Bahamut, he hates getting wet, right, my dude?”
The brown and green wyvern spat.
Fortunately, he had aimed down.
“I’m more worried about the lightning,” Kettleball, the co-pilot and gunner said.
“Don’t worry. It won’t touch allies.”
“I’m not doubting that, captain, just thinking that things get hectic in a battle. You know, friendly fire and such,” Kettleball said.
“You just have to be professional. Do you job and trust the others to do theirs.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Captain Butcher didn’t trust Tlaloc, but she trusted Cal Cruces and that was enough for her.
Not that she could do anything about it either way.
Do her job to the best of her ability.
That was the only thing in her control.
Their current Quest was an example of things going off plan, out of control.
They had been set for their ambush when word came in that the demon got a little loose and set the slaver convoy back hours. They hadn’t gotten back on the road until almost dawn.
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Damn shame that the demon hadn’t just killed all the slavers.
That had forced her to head back to base because they’d attract attention otherwise outside Lilah’s wards.
And so, her attack squadron had to stand down and try to dial it back down to zero while they waited.
It wasn’t good to be sitting at a hundred for hours while you waited.
“Can’t wait to try this out,” Kettleball’s gloved hands mimed holding a mounted machine gun. “This AR shit is too cool! It’s, like, I’m the gun!” they said.
The reason that Captain Butcher was the only other passenger on Neo Bahamut was the alien weapon mounted in a harness below his chest.
They had done testing with mounting weapons on the wyverns and drakes, quickly running into obvious problems.
The weight of the weapon and the ammunition was one.
The other was the recoil causing flight problems.
It had appeared that whatever magic allowed such heavy creatures to defy Earth’s gravity couldn’t compensate for that pesky third law.
Hence, weapons that broke said law.
Threnosh-made recoilless rifles, except scaled up significantly.
The weight remained an issue, which was why it could only be mounted on a wyvern stripped of all excess, like riders and armor. The lack of the latter wasn’t going to be an issue since they were going to remain high up off the ground.
It was a shame that they could only afford one, which meant the other wyverns and most of the drakes would have to fly lower when they attacked the slaver convoy.
Two wyverns, Neo Bahamut and one other with a full ranger complement, along with five drakes and their riders winged their way northward.
They intended to hit the convoy at a point where it was farthest from possible reinforcements. On a stretch of freeway, out in the open, no cover.
“Captain Butcher, Ophrys has got eyes on the convoy, over,” Ace-2’s voice was crystal clear in her helmet.
Her advance scout pinged the location on the map overlay in her HUD.
“Copy that. All units prepare for combat. Hold nothing back.”
This wasn’t like the other ambushes when they had to take care not to hurt the people they were rescuing.
The demon was very dangerous according to Cal.
If they couldn’t kill it from a distance then they needed to drive it away from Miami.
The squadron reached attack range quickly.
Cloud cover was light.
The sun still shined brightly.
If the slavers were alert they should’ve spotted them already.
Dark specks in the sky to those without something to enhance their vision.
“Target the lead vehicles, Kettleball. Then prioritize disabling the rest if they try to get around. Do not shoot the cages until we have confirmation on the target. Remember, once you hit fifty percent ammo you’re to stop. We’ll need it for the demon.”
“Got it, captain. Everyone, stay out of my lane,” Kettleball said.
The ranger’s fingers squeezed.
The recoilless cannon would’ve been quiet as a buzzing bee if it wasn’t for the hand-length flechettes breaking the sound barrier.
“Wooo! Eat lead, slaver fucks!” Kettleball whooped.
Captain Butcher patched into the gun camera to watch the lead truck explode into a ball of fire.
Every fifth flechette carried an explosive.
Kettleball was judicious with their ammo expenditure.
Five more shots.
Another truck gone.
The remaining vehicles swerved around the flaming wrecks, all cohesion lost.
Panicking… amateurs, she thought.
Another burst.
Kettleball cursed.
A magic shield ate the shots before shattering.
“Fifth truck, blue big rig!” Ace-2 warned.
“Ranger!”
“On it, captain,” Kettleball located the target.
The huge trailer was covered in a tarp, which men were frantically cutting loose to reveal dozens of cages filled with monsters and mutant animals.
She saw the metal collars around their necks glow with light.
“Take them all out.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Kettleball squeezed their fingers and metal death rained from the heavens.
Too late.
Enough of the cages where opened.
The slavers pointed thin, silvery rods to the sky.
Toward Neo Bahamut and the others.
Monsters and mutant animals leapt into the air on twisted wings, magic or other impossible abilities.
Most were smaller than the drakes, none compared to the wyverns, but they were many.
The ranger mounts roared challenges as their rider fired bullets, loosed arrows, bolts and spells.
A Skill confused a gruesome mockery of a human-sized heron with two heads as it tried to lance its impossible sharp beaks into a drake’s neck, allowing him to tear it apart with his dagger-like teeth.
A monstrous winged mountain lion, weaved through fire to latch on to another drake’s neck with fang and claw only for the co-pilot to lance it with glittering ice.
A half-man, half-moth monster spread spores from its wings only for a wyvern on a flyby to batter it out of the sky with a blow from her iron-spiked tale.
The soporific spores made her yawn a little.
The rangers on her back were protected by their sealed flight suits.
“Ace-2, Ophrys, have you found the HVT?” Captain Butcher was above the rest of the aerial battle. She heard gagging, followed by a splashing sound before the communication was abruptly cut off. “Ace-2, Ophrys, copy, over?”
“I copy,” Ace-2 said. “Uh… Ophrys just hurled all over my back, over.”
“Sorry… captain…” Ophrys sounded sick. “Pinging… target… going to—”
“Shit! Ophrys! Ophrys! Uh… captain, she passed out,” Ace-2 said.
“Explanation. Quick.”
“We were getting weird readings on one of the trucks. Heat signatures flickering from really hot to really cold and everything in between. Ophrys used her Skill to take a closer look. That’s when… you know.”
“She didn’t get mark it, captain,” Kettleball said.
“Which truck, Ace-2?”
“Crap, I’ll ping it. Black cab, white container.”
“Got it. Should I try to use a Skill?”
“Negative, Kettleball. Blow it to hell.”
“Copy that, captain.”
The recoilless cannon spat death, stitching a line of devastation from the cab through the container.
The demon leapt out of the fire.
It landed on the road, cracking pavement.
“Backward knees…” Skyrat murmured.
“That’s what you notice!” Kettleball laughed.
“You know it’s dangerous cause of that…”
“Just bring us around. Circle it. I’m gonna blow it to bits.”
Skyrat directed Neo Bahamut into a circular orbit hundreds of feet above the demon.
Captain Butcher studied the monster.
They had been warned about its dangerous voice, but their helmets had an automatic auditory shut off feature for over-loud sounds that could hurt their ears.
Its pale, pink flesh rippled with sleek muscles that writhed like it had worms under its skin even as it stood motionless like a statue staring up at them with black orbs set into a face that was uncannily close to a human’s minus the nose and a mouth. Over-long arms ended in human-looking fingers tipped with sharp nails. Its toes also mimicked a human’s with the exception of sharp, hooked claws.
“Eat future alien bullets, demon!” Kettleball didn’t hold back.
A steady stream of projectiles raked the demon.
Captain Butcher lost sight of it in the bloom of fire and smoke from the explosive rounds.
They circled it twice before Kettleball clicked empty.
“I’m out!”
“Did you kill it?” Skyrat said.
“For sure—”
The thick, dark smoke cleared in the breeze.
“Rangers, what have I told you about this,” Captain Butcher said.
“Don’t assume something is dead even if it’s in pieces,” Kettleball said.
The undead war in San Diego had taught them that lesson over and over again.
Non-corporeal monsters, though rare, existed.
The demon was definitely corporeal.
The rangers’ problem was that it had been barely affected by the storm of supersonic metal and high-explosive power.
Pale, pink flesh was smudged with black and gray.
Tiny holes covered its body.
Captain Butcher zoomed in.
Her HUD flickered.
The demon vanished from sight for a split-second before reappearing so fast that she decided that she was seeing things.
No blood.
The holes revealed nothing.
No bones and internal organs.
They closed right before her eyes, pushing out hundreds of flechettes.
Captain Butcher was about to order Skyrat to take Neo Bahamut higher when the demon suddenly keeled over.
“… is it dead now?” Kettleball said.
“Anyone with a spike in their danger senses?” she said into the comms.
One by one, rangers reported back that no, there was no spike, just the same buzz not out of place in a standard battle.
Captain Butcher ordered Skyrat to continue circling the motionless demon while the rest of her squadron finished off the flying monsters and mutant animals.
She noted a handful of trucks screaming south like whipped dogs tucking their tails.
The freeway below was ruined.
Craters from their munitions dotted the road interspersed by the twisted, burning wrecks of vehicles.
The smoke reaching into the sky like fingers would’ve been a problem if not for the seals and filtration system in their helmets.
Dead and dying, men and monsters, littered the road.
The demon vanished and reappeared again.
“Captain…” Kettleball ventured.
“Did you see it too?”
The ranger nodded.
“Our skies our clear, captain, over,” Ace-2 said.
She checked Ophrys’ status.
Still out.
Unfortunate.
She debated ordering the other scout-type rangers to use their Skills to determine if the demon was truly dead. Decided against it because she didn’t want them to end up like Ophrys.
“I want eyes on the demon. No Skills.”
The rangers immediately chimed in that they too were experiencing the same visual issues.
“Useful, hit it with something strong,” she ordered the strongest mage she had at her disposal.
“On it, sir,” the sergeant replied.
Useful was riding on the second wyvern in the squadron along with a full squad of rangers.
Sudden, the wyvern pilot, guided her wyvern, D.F.A., lower to get Useful in range.
100 meters.
75 meters.
50 meters.
The comms erupted with the voices of a dozen rangers.
Frantic warnings.
Captain Butcher didn’t hesitate.
“Abort! Ab—”
Too late.
The demon vanished.
A split-second.
It wasn’t prone on the road.
It crouched low, gathering its legs beneath it to—
Useful’s spell hit it mid leap.
D.F.A.’s teeth-filled mouth snapped shut like a bear trap.
He chomped on air.
“Where did it—”
Useful’s voice was drowned out by an ear-splitting shriek instantly cut off by the helmets.
The demon clung to the wyvern’s thick, muscular neck, biting, clawing, digging.
“D.F.A., Ironscales!” Sudden’s voice was high, panicked. “Get it off him!”
The wyvern shrieked. Its wing beats grew erratic as it instinctively tried to climb into the sky.
The rangers on the wyvern’s back didn’t have an angle for shots.
The ones attached to the harness on the wyvern’s underside peppered the demon with spells and bullets, which it ignored.
“Bail out!” Useful ordered.
As if the demon heard and understood, it turned its attention to the riders.
It rushed up the wyvern’s back, tearing deep gouges in thick, armor plate-like scales
“Stunning Strike!” Bonker planted his spiked mace into the side of the demon’s face.
It deformed like putty as Bonker pulled his arm back.
The demon’s face was fine.
“What the fu—”
“Down!” Useful barked. “Multicast: Fireball!”
Bonker ducked back into his saddle.
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
The spells impacted and exploded against the demon’s face and chest, rocking it backward, but failing to dislodge its clawed toes from D.F.A.’s back.
Rangers leapt off the wyvern, trusting in their magic gems to slow their descent into something manageable and not instantly fatal.
The demon reached for Useful.
She couldn’t help but be drawn to the strange lines on its otherwise smooth palm. Perfectly symmetrical, they converged in the exact center as if it was the vanishing point on a drawing.
Bonker surged up, having removed his saddle restraints, with an upward sweep of his mace.
The blow took the demon on its human-like chin, rocking its head back.
It stared into Bonker’s eyes with those black orbs an instant later.
Bonker brought his mace down on the top of its bald head.
“Falling Star Smash!”
The spiked ball seemed to glow and trail flames like a meteor streaking through the atmosphere before landing like a meteorite on the demon’s head.
No blood, no brains, no bones.
Bonker dented the demon’s head for a split second.
The demon suddenly appeared uninjured.
It grabbed Bonker’s wrist and ripped.
A blur of pale pink swept Bonker’s head away.
Bullets peppered its body as rangers on drake-back circled.
The demon held Bonker’s decapitated body with one hand.
Useful screamed.
Shining light lanced from her hand.
The demon quirked its head.
There was a smoking hole big enough to fit a man’s arm through its chest.
It was gone in the blink of an eye.
So fast that Useful wasn’t certain if she had hit it.
“Multicast: Mage Shield!”
Bright, translucent light winked into existence in front of Useful’s outstretched hand.
Three panes solidified.
The demon hurled Bonker’s big body with a loud crack resonating through the clear sky.
Useful’s shields shattered.
Her pained cry silenced by the armored body hitting her so hard that it ripped the restraints tethering her to the saddle.
The demon scanned the back of the wyvern.
It was alone with Sudden.
The ranger drew a pistol and opened fire while urging her wounded wyvern to dive.
The demon was caught off-guard, losing its footing.
It flailed and clawed in an effort to cling to the wyvern’s back, but D.F.A. had enough of the unwelcome passenger.
He lashed his spiked tail like a whip, cracking the demon and sending it spinning to the ground like an out of control helicopter.
The wyvern’s blood fell from gaping wounds in his neck like hot rain.
Sudden knew that she still had a handful of rangers stuck in the belly harness. The same way that she knew D.F.A. wasn’t going to be able to pull out of his dive safely.
“Emergency Landing,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, D.F.A., Take One For The Team.”
Massive wings opened.
The wyvern pulled up, defying death for a few more moments with a surge of strength.
Taloned feet dragged deep furrows through the dirt before D.F.A. came to a stop several hundred meters away from the freeway.
Miraculously, the rangers escaped with only a few bruises.
“You have incoming on your six, rangers!” Captain Butcher shouted.
The demon streaked across the ground like a cheetah, sending up a cloud of dirt in its wake.
Rangers scrambled out of their harnesses.
Sudden turned the dying wyvern toward the demon.
They didn’t have much left.
“Predator’s Leap!” Sudden blinked.
She tried again.
D.F.A. roared a challenge.
“What are you doing?”
The Skill wasn’t working.
Predator’s Challenge.
Sudden found herself flying through the air.
D.F.A. had slashed the straps securing the saddle to his back
She landed with a thud.
The demon only had eyes for the wyvern many times its size.
They meant in a thunderous collision of slashing claws and biting teeth.
“No…”
Rangers reached Sudden and pulled her out of her saddle.
The fight was as quick as it was brutal.
The demon’s flesh was torn and pierced.
D.F.A.’s upper jaw was ripped off.
The demon’s flesh was unmarred.
It turned pure black orbs to the grounded rangers, ignoring the projectiles falling on it from the rangers on drake-back.
A line that hadn’t been there before split its face vertically to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
Its cry was unlike anything any of the rangers had heard before.
It ripped them to the core.
Some merely felt on overwhelming nausea that caused them to retch.
Others were less fortunate.
Stomachs emptied into helmets for those too slow to open their faceplates.
The demon turned its feature-less face to the grounded rangers.