In an instant, Sam stretched his Nuetta out to the Fabricator. He needed a distraction, and there was only one thing he could think of that would do that. The harsh squeal of the Fabricator would be sure to grab everyone’s attention.

Sam directed the floating eye to the Fabricator and entered the code for twenty pounds of C-4, with detonators, of course.

The CONFIRM button was blinking when Sam spoke.

“I told you I’d tell you everything if you kept her alive, why the hell do you want to make this harder on yourself!?” Sam demanded.

“Because,” Billy said between yawns. “You’ll tell me whatever I want to know sooner or later, and a god does not compromise.”

“Guess you’ve actually bought into your own bullshit.” Sam said, about to press CONFIRM. Once the black box started printing, it would take about three seconds to finish, during which they would be distracted by the high-pitched screech. Then Sam would reach into the box with his Nuetta and trigger the C-4. That would take maybe another five seconds. That gave Billy about eight seconds to stop Sam.

That was tight. It would take the dragon a fraction of a second to kill Sam, so the only thing keeping Sam safe was the belief that Sam was absolutely harmless. That wouldn’t last forever.

A concussive blast rocked the entire treasure room, and Billy’s head rose in alarm, bits of stone and dust falling onto his scales.

“What was that!?” Maria shouted. A second later, another explosion shook the room, followed by the rumble of tumbling stone.

“Howitzers.” Sam and Billy said at the same time.

The explosions picked up in pace, and Sam could hear distant screams as Billy’s precious tower began to crumble above them.

“Return them to their cells then report to the wall!” Billy shouted, scattering gold everywhere as he rose to his feet and rushed toward a blank stone wall, phasing through the apparently solid marble. Secret entrance, Sam noted. He’d been wondering how something as big as the dragon got in and out of the room.

“You heard him.” Maria said, turning her back on the brutes leaning down to pick up Sam and Faera, intending to go ahead of them.

Here we go, watch my back.

You got it. Gurd said.

Two Jyin Suata leapt from Sam, the bright white spheres arching through the air to drill a hole through each of the two men tasked with carrying them. They slumped to the ground with sighs, the air leaking from their lungs.

Sam placed a hand beneath himself, and slowly climbed to his feet, his limbs shaking. He glanced up in time to see Maria turn, her eyes widening in surprise, and then fear.

“This must look odd.” Sam said.

You can drop the illusion.

Sam’s limbs became visible, gnarled and thin on an emaciated, scarred body. He flexed his hand, studying the bone structure beneath the skin. He tapped his left foot, happy to have it back, albeit underdeveloped. He’d have to take the time to regrow his eyes later.

It must be a little creepy to be unerringly stared at by an eyeless man that looked like a mummy.

“You should have warned your god about me.”

Maria screamed, throwing three Jyin Suata toward Sam, who met them with his own. He tried to leap forward, but his leg gave out, toppling him forward.

Sam caught himself with his Nuetta, pushing himself forward. Bracing his arm, he drove his knuckles into Maria’s throat. Maria clutched her neck, tears in her eyes as she stumbled back, wheezing.

Sam summoned three more Jyin Suata, aiming them at her brain, heart, and liver.

She blocked two of them.

Sam stepped forward on trembling limbs as Maria clutched her right side, desperately trying to heal herself as dark red blood spilled from her liver.

Sam wanted to say something clever, but he was just tired.

He hit her with another three Jyin Suata, and she sprawled backward, a hole in her heart, and one in her hand where she tried to stop the one aimed at her head. She watched him for a moment before her eyes went still.

Sam wanted to collapse, go to sleep for a month and let the battle outside settle itself while Gurd continued healing him, but he had things to do. This wasn’t over until the dragon was dead.

“C’mere.” Sam said, grabbing Faera with his Nuetta and lifting her off the ground. Now that he was free to use it, he was amazed at how much easier everything was. Between the eight rings of his Isayatta increasing fuel efficiency and the extra molts, Sam still had Nuetta to spare.

Faera didn’t take her eyes off him while she sailed through the air, her Suppressing Collar landing in his grasp.

Sam gave the curse a little juice, and it grew its way through the magic of the collar, causing it to crumble.

Oh, that’s what you use it for. Gurd said.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m just using an eye made of Nuetta to see, and I got some help with the arms and legs.”

“Eh hee ae uu aakiii abaaa? Eeh kii a Agaa.”

Translation? Cass asked Gurd internally.

I think she said, ‘The hell are you talking about? Let’s kill a dragon.’

“Alright then,” Sam said with a smile. “Can you move things with your Nuetta? I could use some backup.”

“iii aa oow”

I can now.

“Alright, I’m gonna put you in a spot where you can see the whole room, then you’re going to provide support.”

“’Kay.”

‘kay.

Sam set Faera up with her bird’s eye view, then walked to the fabricator, dismissing the order of C-4.

“I’m starting on the order, but first, do you want a ham sandwich?”

“EEAH!”

Yeah!

Sam began building a qeue, starting with two ham sandwiches, water bottles, G.I Sludge, Kamikaze syringes, nannites, flame redardent body armor, claymores, grenades, a couple Anti-material rifles—Sans biometric locks--, ammo to go with it, and everything else Sam could think of.

Gonna show that evil fucker a real good time. Sam thought, his teeth bared in a feral grin. Maybe he had taken some of the torture personally.

#

Billy was mad with rage.

He’d flown above his city, looking for the elves with the artillery they’d stolen two weeks ago, and found nothing. Not a damn sign. Looking at the angle of the strikes, he’d flown west, searching the ground below for any sign of the hardware.

After an exhaustive search, he found a single hill with marks where a battery of howitzers had sat, gouging troughs in the grass every time they fired. There were no tracks leading to or from the location.

The Torensaga, Billy thought, fuming as molten hot liquid spattered from his jaws, catching the grass beneath him on fire. They were using the relic of the other world to steal and transport his own artillery without a trace, use it on his city, then pack up and leave as soon as they saw the tips of his wings above the city walls.

Whoever had introduced the concept of guerilla warfare to the elves was going to die slowly.

Billy screamed his frustration to the sky in a torrent of flame before taking to wing again, heading for Hope, not noticing the hawk circling high above him, where the air was too thin to support a dragon.

Billy flew back to the city, his mind churning out plan after plan to catch such elusive prey. Theold, an elven wizard powerful enough to just zap people around Billy’s domain was choosing to fight dirty rather than directly attack him.

Bastard was too scared of a fair fight.

I suppose that’s how those idiots felt when I blew them up. Billy reminisced about the other dragons he’d wiped from the face of the earth. Billy didn’t like feeling like them.

There wasn’t much he could do now but increase security. Twenty miles around the city. In every direction.

“Fuck!”

Ten minutes later he was approaching the walls of the city, finally calm. He didn’t care if a few elves turned a few of his people to meat paste, what bothered him was the smack in the face of being attacked without a chance to retaliate. The sheer rage built up inside him had turned cold. He could give that back.

If anything, this had convinced him to push against the elf homeland harder. Once he’d strangled out the roots of the nearby infestation of the long-lived meat candies, the bastard shooting up his property would have to choose between eating and fighting. he could get back to his work.

Maybe he’d string oubliettes with live elves along his walls, as further incentive not to shoot at him.

Maybe he’d shoot live elves back at them. That would be amusing.

Billy was finally in a better mood when he arrived at the castle wall, where his Acolytes were assembled. Every one of them about the equivalent of a meager Special Forces elf, with a little power and a few basic spells under their belt. Still, it made them much more dangerous than an average human.

Like how a common spider is more dangerous than a caterpillar.

The idea of a dangerous human was the most ridiculous oxymoron he’d ever considered, so when the image of the toy soldier flashed through his mind, his claws sank into the stone in irritation. Billy’s good mood had lasted a few seconds.

I can always take it out on my squeezy toy later, he thought. He’d wished for just such a thing after the toy soldier had tried to kill him, and lo, he’d been delivered into Billy’s hands.

But for now, put the livestock to work. What’s the point of all these years raising them and training them if you don’t use them?

“Acolytes, I want all of you to report to the front lines. Cut a path straight to the elven capital and cut out their beating hearts. This assault was a distraction, pay it back with blood.”

“Yes, Lord Tyranus!”

“Maria, you return to the tower of blessing to guide the students until I have need of you.”

Billy cast his gaze over at the tower, which had an enormous, smoking hole in the side of it. That would take hours of Billy’s own time to fix.

“Belay that. It’s not safe in the tower. Move your students to the underground barracks.”

Billy didn’t hear a response. He tilted his head, and glanced back at the acolytes, his cooled rage once again igniting.

“How dare you…” he scanned the hundred or so Acolytes, searching for her familiar face.

“Where is the Headmistress?” he demanded. Maria would never refuse an order. If anything, she would have trusted the brutes to put away the prisoners so she could be on the wall a few seconds faser. The way Billy saw it, only one of two things could have happened:

Maria neglected to obey a simple order. Fat chance.

Something stopped Maria from obeying a simple order. Much more more likely.

What was it, though? The shelling had stopped as soon as he’d left the castle. Billy’s eyes widened. Theold. The wizard who could teleport. The shelling had stopped just as he’d left. As soon as they knew exactly where Billy was.

Was it some kind of rescue mission for his prisoners, or did the greedy little bastards want to steal even more of his property? Both were stealing his property, come to think of it.

Billy roared, flaming spit spattering around the wall. He pushed off of the stone, subtlety disregarded as he launched himself forward, a section of the wall collapsing in his wake and dropping a few acolytes to their deaths.

Billy ran to his stone monument and entered the pool of water, swimming down and then up, arriving in the tunnel leading to his chamber. He sprinted down the narrow tunnel he’d dug for himself eighty years ago, when he’d first started construction on the city.

As he ran, he could make out his bed, a massive, comfortable pile of gold that lay on the other side of the one-way illusionary wall.

Sitting on top of it was a disturbingly skinny, eyeless black man in body armor. He sat his monkey ass on Billy’s bed and waved, apparently able to see Billy beyond the illusion.

Billy unleashed a river of fire as he ran down the tunnel, charging toward the cocky little bastard. He didn’t know how he’d gotten his arms and legs back, but Billy was going to take steps to correct that. Assuming the toy soldier wasn’t vaporized.

Billy charged through the entrance, focusing his flame on the upstart, when he heard a click.

#

“Here he comes.” Sam said, dismissing the arcane eye and popping the plastic top off the needle before jabbing himself with it. Sam could feel every blood vessel expand uncomfortably, along with shivering energy that made his weak muscles feel stronger than they had been originally. His heart began to hammer in his chest.

“----“

“What? Sam asked, lifting his ear protection. Things were about to get loud.

“Ii AA Ae?”

Is that safe?

“Not really,” Sam said, tossing the Kamikaze syringe aside. It was a viscious little cocktail whipped up by scientists of the twenty-second century that boosted combat effectiveness of an individual soldier manyfold for hours. Sometimes it caused organ failure, but Sam had tougher than usual organs. At least he hoped so.

A second later, a blast of flame shot through the hidden doorway beneath them, filling the entire chamber with searing heat. The illusion of Sam resting on the dragon’s bed was lost in the fire as the pile of gold slowly fused together.

Sam leveled his gun on the entrance beneath him, and sure enough, Billy’s head came through, mindlessly blasting away. A moment later, the dragons foot caught the beam of the claymore, and the fireworks started.

The dragon’s foot was knocked out from under him, dropping his head to the ground, where his momentum carried it into some more explosives.

The marble chamber rocked with concentrated acoustics so loud that their eardrums should have been destroyed beyond repair. As it stood, between the drugs and the overwhelming reverberations, Sam felt like something inside as going to come loose.

Once the explosions stopped, Sam squeezed the trigger on the rifle, bracing himself with Nuetta. A fountain of blood shot from behind Billy’s shoulder blade.

Sam nearly flew back, the recoil was so intense. The dragon that was struggling to lift its head slumped to the ground, eyes wide in shock.

Sam briefly considered gloating. Then he emptied the rest of the clip, perforating the dragon’s vital organs with three more bullets half as long as his forearm.

The ringing sound of gunfire and explosions slowly left the chamber, and Sam took his ear protection off, hopping off their perch and slowing his fall with Nuetta.

Sam eyed the corpse, pulling a grenade from his belt. It wasn’t just Tyranus that was the problem. The people who came to retrieve his corpse were bound to make a martyr out of him and carry on his work. After all, the dragon didn’t have to be present for men to gain power on the leylines.

He had to kill the zealots too.

Grenades made some of the simplest traps. He’d remove the pin and place one under Billy’s claw, then when they tried to move the dragon, he’d take a big chunk of them out then and there.

Sam walked toward the dragon’s front claw, squatting down and pulling the pin, avoiding the dragon’s blood burning a hole in the marble floor.

“AAH!”

Move!

Sam turned his head and saw a gaping maw surrounding him on every side with teeth, snapping shut around him with breakneck speed. He channeled Nuetta into the Time ring, only managing to slow time after Billy’s lower teeth had sunk a couple inches into his shoulder.

Another curveball.

Gotta make the most distance with the least movement. Even as he thought that, the sword-like tooth was slowly sinking further into his shoulder.

Sam pulled his shoulder away from the teeth, put a hand on one canine and pulled himself up, intending to escape up rather than trying to step backward. He left Billy a little present.

As soon as Sam’s limbs were out of the way, he stopped using the ring, his Yuenan dangerously low.

The teeth slammed shut inches beneath him. Sam pushed off the dragon’s jaw, and the two of them looked each other in the eye for an instant.

Billy’s head jerked up, his teeth bared in a snarl as he tried to snap at Sam. Sam put his hand on his gums and used the upward momentum to ride out of the wounded dragon’s reach.

“Damn you!” Billy roared, looking up at Sam, who was tumbling toward a pillar some twenty feet off the ground. As he was flying, Sam remembered the pinless grenade, rolling on the floor beside the dragon.

Sam gave the explosive a little mental shove before he impacted against the marble pillar, placing it directly under the dragon’s stomach. Dividing his attention in two stopped Sam from sticking the landing, and his spine hit the unforgiving stone, sending a wave of schock through his entire body.

The drugs helped him ignore some of the pain, but Sam still tumbled to the ground, heading for the floor head first. Sam put his hands toward the floor, intending to absorb some of the impact, when he felt something gentle push against his whole body at the last second, turning his headlong fall into a backward tumble.

Faera, watching from her perch on the ceiling, had given him a little nudge.

“I’m killing you this time, toy soldier!” The dragon boomed, dragging himself toward Sam, aiming to get his long neck close enough to bite him in half.

Sam didn’t know how Billy was still alive after being shot six times in the chest with an anti tank rifle, but he didn’t have time to think about it. Sam climbed to his feet, his limbs nearly giving out beneath him.

“Try it, Billy boy!” Sam shouted as a raging inferno built inside the dragon’s mouth, aimed at him. “I’ll make a fucking coat out of-” An explosion of dust and debris shot outward from beneath the dragon.

The dragon’s eye’s widened, the flames in his maw blinking out. Billy had been crawling forward, so the grenade wound up a bit lower than Sam intended. Sam didn’t mind.

“Looks like you joined the club, little Billy!” Sam cackled.

“Enough!”

Sam felt something seize his head and twist. Sam’s head spun on his shoulders, and the most intense pain he’d felt in his life echoed through his body for a brief second as his spine popped free.

Sam’s body went numb and collapsed to the floor, his high-tech body armor soaked with piss as his bowels lost all control.

“OOO!”

Noo! Gurd faithfully translated.

Sam’s face was pressed into the floor, in the middle of the all-too-familiar whitening of oxygen loss just before brain-death. With his arcane eye, Sam saw Billy turn his head upward, attracted by Faera’s scream.

Had a good run, I guess. Sam thought. Why the hell didn’t the gun kill him?

Hold on Sam, I want to keep your vital organs running artificially, but I’m going to have to stop rebuilding your muscle mass. Is that acceptable?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Is that acceptable? Gurd repeated as everything in Sam’s mind was turning white. The sound echoed in his mind as he began to lose consciousness.

Yes!

The white began to fade. Sam’s thought’s cleared.

Above him, Billy was lumbering to his feet, turning his attention towards Faera. Sam could barely see above the dragon’s chest from his vantage point.

Sam reached for his Yuenan, mentally touched his Isayatta and began drawing raw power through the connection. Nice to know the Yuenan doesn’t require a connection to my nervous system.

Sam grabbed his shoulders with Nuetta and turned them to face the dragon, letting the mind-numbing pain fade into the background. He had shit to do.

The wounds on the dragon were closing as he approached Faera. Jyin Suata came flying down from the ledge, splashing harmlessly off the dragon’s scales.

“Little piggy, it looks like you’ve slipped your pen. Well, you were fat enough to eat before, I’m sure you’ll be absolutely delicious now. Killing your friend has left me rather hungry.” Billy stretched his neck and almost daintily reached out, nipping at Faera on the ledge above the entrance. His teeth pressed against an invisible barrier, stopping just short of piercing her skin.

“Pathetic creature!” Billy roared. “Give up now, or I’ll eat you slow in the center of your smoldering capital!”

Sam slipped his remaining two grenades from their belt with two strands on Neutta, and recovered his rifle with a third. Sam pulled the pins out, floating the grenades fast and low, out of Billy’s field of view. He had them hug the bottom of the dragon’s huge body, floating up just underneath his jaw.

The grenades tumbled up and into Billy’s gaping mouth, never once entering his field of view. Feeling the steel balls hitting the back of his throat, Billy closed his mouth and frowned.

“What-“ a muffled explosion preceded a fountain of flaming blood bursting forward, soaking the ledge in fiery dragonblood. The only exception was a small semicircle where Faera’s barrier held out the stone-melting liquid.

Billy collapsed onto the ground, a few feet away from Sam, shaking the chamber with his weight, molten blood pooling from his mouth. A pained, raspy, choked groan escaped from the dragon’s mouth.

Sam reached out with his Nuetta, looped it around the dragon’s head, and hauled it toward him, using his full strength to slide Billy’s head across the floor until his eye was an arm’s length from Sam’s face.

Sam gave him a grin.

“You-“ Billy croaked.

Sam’s rifle speared downward, the long, heavy rifle puncturing the dragon’s eye. Billy flinched, reaching toward the foreign object. Sam pulled the trigger with a flick of Nuetta.

The Anti-Material rifle shot backward, the recoil sending it spinning outward, along with a fountain of molten blood and brains. Sam was spattered all over his body with the burning blood, but he could only feel it on his face. That was plenty.

The dragon began to thrash, twitching mindlessly, claws shredding the surrounding marble in it’s death throes. Sam grabbed himself and slid out of the way just before the dragon flipped over and destroyed the floor where he had just been.

Sam felt the individual droplets of molten blood burrowing into his face as he used the last of his Nuetta to retreat. The blood cooled in a matter of seconds, and the dragon stopped thrashing in less than a minute, slowing down to a faint twitch.

Sam stared at the corpse another minute before relaxing. Even if Sam didn’t make it, he’d done what he set out to do. Scratch one evil megolamaniac intent on making life hell for everyone.

Gurd, am I gonna die?

Working to stop that, boss. I think you’ll be in the-sssshshsh

Gurd’s voice was drowned out by a harsh static in the back of Sam’s mind. Sam’s arcane eye was swept away by a tide of energy, leaving Sam lying in the dark, completely blind and numb from the neck down.

Gurd must have stopped moving his heart and lungs, as Sam became lightheaded almost immediately. Small patches of Sam’s unwounded skin felt the cold, clammy sensation of a molt.

Sam touched his Yuenan. The surface looked like an ocean whipped by a hurricane as wave after wave of powerful death energy exploded from the dragon. It rebounded off the walls of the chamber and created a vortex of raw power in the room, with nowhere to go.

Sam tried to channel Nuetta to his lungs and heart, to keep them moving by himself, at least until the storm passed. The strands of magic were torn apart and joined the larger storm before he could do anything with them.

Son of a bitch is gonna take me with him! Sam tried again, ignoring the molt and forcing his body to take even one more breath, one more heartbeat. At least the oven-like properties of Billy’s lair should insolate the people outside and keep them safe.

With that thought, Sam lost consciousness.

“Can you hear me?” the voice of an old woman entered Sam’s ears. Ella?

“You’re in the hospital in First Word. Move your eyebrows if you can hear me.”

Sam wiggled his brows.

“We organized a raid on Tyranus’s cave, with the best First Word has to offer, and found you and Faera with the dead dragon. It must have been short minutes after he died, he was still twitching. We saw you were still alive, so we did first aid and brought you back here.”

Thanks for that. Gurd must have rebooted shortly after he’d passed out.

It’s my calling, boss. I haven’t had that much excitement in eight thousand years.

“The city of Hope has collapsed. Without the dragon, the entire country is most likely going to fall apart.” Thousands of people were going to die or be enslaved because Sam had killed the dragon, but millions, or even billions more would be safe. If Sam could feel his stomach, it would have twisted. He made the right choice, but it didn’t feel good.

What’s the ETA on my spine?

Splitting my attention between your spine and your vitals will be tough, I give it… maybe two weeks.

“The elves of First Word are indebted to you, and the ones born in the last four hundred and fifty years actually think you’re pretty awesome. With my vote and the pressure of the younger ones, you’ve been granted citizenship, if you still want it.”

Damn right I do. Sam twitched his brows vigorously.

Ella chuckled, and her voice raised above him, as if she were standing. “With any luck, you’ll walk again, you’re receiving the best treatment we have. No one can recreate eyes from scratch, though.”

I can. Gurd chimed in.

“Try to get some more sleep, Sam. Your recovery will be a long journey. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sam heard her footsteps on a clean tiled floor. Looked like it really was First Word.

Sam summoned an eye and glanced around the room, revealing a typical hospital room like he’d seen in so many of his simulations. Beside him, Faera lay on a bed, an I.V. bag full of painkillers above her. When his spine was repaired, he’d need to discreetly slip Gurd onto one of her stumps. A moment later, Sam dropped the eye, releasing the flow of Nuetta.

His Yuenan felt sore, like an overworked muscle the day after. Sam entered his Yuenan, and looked down at the burning ball of light. It had more than tripled in size, and his Isayatta looked like it’d been through a major earthquake, with cracks running through the entire tower.

Sam floated down to the entrance to his Isayatta, where he saw Gurd with a clipboard, inspecting the tower’s insides. Next to the construct was a floating pair of lungs and heart that pulsed rhythmically. below them were a liver and kidneys. All presumably facsimiles of Sam’s own organs.

“Looks like we’ve got a lot of downtime over the next few weeks.” Sam said.

“You do. I’ve actually got as much work as I can handle. Although once your spine is repaired and I don’t have to manage your vitals, my workload will get much lighter.”

“Think you can show me to the movie theatre?” Sam said with a grin. Although if he thought about it hard enough, he was able to draw the information straight out of the implant, it wasn’t as though he kept all five million years of information in his mind all at the same time. Watching a movie or two would be a great way to spend his impromteu vacation.

“There’s also a beach on the eighth floor.”

“A beach by myself? I’ll pass.”

“I could invite Faera.”

You can do that??” Sam asked as they approached the elevator.

“By all accounts, he’s a great guy,” Gunderson Kine, the mayor of First Word said as Ellanore joined him in the hall outside the hospital room. “But I don’t see the value in keeping him alive, he’s damn near a vegetable.”

“We know his spine is severed, but he’s breathing anyway. He’s hiding something that I can’t see. I think he’ll be up and on his feet sooner than anyone expects.” Ellanore said, glancing at Kine. The man wasn’t the bravest, or the brightest, but he did try to put the welfare of his people above his own.

“And when he is,” She continued. “We’ll have use for him.”

“Umm, I’m not sure he would be happy about us using him. He killed a dragon the size of a house essentially by himself, so if he decided he didn’t like it…”

“Make him happy to be used,” Ella said as if talking to an ignorant child. “Give him a peaceful job, let him bond with the community and find love before we ask him to defend it. And if all else fails…”

Ella’s gaze settled on the blocky, armored military laptop she’d printed in the dragon’s lair.

“We have the Failsafe.”