He was falling, his back facing the ground, arms spread wide as though surrendering to the heavens, eyes closed as he caressed the quiet corners of his inner self, readying his spirit for what was to come, and what he believed must be.

Though the earth still yawned far below him, the air rushed against his skin like an impatient hand eager to drag him down.

Then, His eyes snapped open, blazing, glowing with ferocious blue lightning that sparked and danced within them like storms contained in glass.

With a swift, controlled twist, he spun himself mid-air, turning to face the ground. Each passing second drew him closer. His hair lashed backward in the fierce wind, strands whipping like rebellious banners, while his eyes watered from the force of the air colliding against him.

Grrrrrr.

Goody's growl thundered through the sky. The beast's serpentine body streamlined downward, slicing through the air like a whip, wings curved tight to match the dive's rhythm as it closed the distance to Simma.

With a sudden recoil that bent the air around him, Goody swept Simma off the air and onto his back. Simma clamped his arms tight around the creature's scaled neck as Goody shot skyward once more, spinning and whirling aside to avoid a startled hover-car that nearly became their unwilling hood ornament.

Goody's speed was astonishing, the serpentine glide so smooth it made the sky itself seem like silk being parted. Those lucky... or unlucky... enough to glimpse the beast from their vehicles froze wide-eyed, mouths agape.

High above, Goody steadied his wings, halting in mid-air with practiced precision. His eyes glimmered like blue beads as his voice rumbled deep, heavy with his master's own anger.

"Goody senses… master is furious."

Simma's jaw tightened, his glowing eyes raking the city below like fire searching for fuel.

"What is master looking for?" Goody asked, tilting his scaled head with mock innocence, though his tone was more growl than question.

"Tell me," Simma replied, his voice sharpened by fury, "the moment you sense an attack."

Goody's eyes dilated, scanning the city with an eagle's intensity, as though every street were a nest and every shadow a thief. Then, his pupils constricted.

"There, master. At the city's edge."

Simma looked, and the sight carved a cruel smirk across his face.

"Go, Goody. Go."

With a thunderous beat of wings, Goody lunged forward, his serpentine body cutting the air with elegance and violence combined.

Simma held on tight, his orange-and-white patterned kimono flailing backward like a battle flag that hadn't agreed to be part of this mission. His long hair whipped wildly behind him, painting him like a storm descending from the heavens.

Why in daylight? he wondered. Singriths almost never attacked under the sun. But his question found its answer at once: there was no sun. The sky was smothered by a ceiling of thick, dull cumulus clouds. The day was choked gray.

"This isn't chance," Simma thought, his eyes narrowing. "the demon attacking the same time as the Singriths.? No. I think this is the Umbrax's doing."

But Umbrax was sealed in the mirror-dimensional prison. It should have been impossible for it to interfere. Unless.... unless someone was foolish enough to serve as its puppet. And carry out is evil biddings.

Within moments, the chaos below came into stark view. Simma's blood ran hotter. The base of the city's force field had been breached, Singriths poured in like ants through a cracked jar. Most of them rode vicious bikes, tearing through homes and civilians alike, feeding hungrily on the blood of innocents.

Homes lay shredded, walls broken, women screaming as they were drained of blood.

And then Simma saw the part that made his head swell with rage, the bundling of people. Men, women, children tied and tossed together like cattle, meant to be dragged off as living blood-bags.

The sight carved open old scars. Memories of when he was still in the Haydes. He had escaped that fate only thanks to the reincarnation of Zelihuth's power burning inside him. Without it, they would not have trained him, they would have devoured him.

His slave days flashed back, the humiliation of being seen as less than human, the cruel training, the endless hunger. He clenched his teeth until they nearly cracked. Never again.

Now, seeing these innocents treated the same way...

His jaw clenched. His grip tightened on Goody's neck.

He tugged sharply at Goody's scales. "Faster!"

Goody doubled his speed, wings flapping huge and hard, his body a lightning bolt hurled at the earth.

Simma's face was a storm, glowing blue.

"Goody!" His voice rang out sharp, commanding, final.

"DRAKARES!"

The beast's throat vibrated with a feral growl, its scaly face twisting into a predator's snarl. From deep within the coil of its body, a shimmer awakened, blue light pulsing like a heartbeat beneath thick armor scales. The glow surged upward, through its belly, climbed into his chest, then ignited in his throat.

And then Goody dove.

"RUUUUURRRRRRGHHHHH!"

Blue fire erupted. It wasn't flame alone, it was a torrent of light, laced with veins of lightning, so intense the very air cracked in protest. Houses ignited instantly, Singriths shrieked as bikes melted beneath them, whole streets bathed in fire.

The dive lasted seconds, but the destruction was biblical. Then Goody arched up, pulling skyward again, readying for another fiery baptism.

But the Singriths weren't retreating. No, they'd come prepared. Guns... horrible, ugly things, gleamed in their hands.

"Guns," Simma muttered bitterly.

A rain of red hot light beams spewed upward, bullets sharp and fast as lightning, stitching the air with death. Goody twisted, body coiling like a ribbon in a storm, dodging masterfully. But some found their mark, striking scale, forcing pained roars from the beast.

"Grip tight, master!" Goody bellowed, rage curling his words.

He kept the bullets from Simma, taking the hits himself, wings jerking but never faltering. He recoiled through the barrage, then dove again, fire already building in his throat.

Before he could strike, a portal shimmered open below. Azren warriors poured out, swords raised, guns in hand, beasts snarling at their sides.

The ground exploded into chaos as Azren and Singrith clashed, swords clanging, powers detonating, beasts both real and Lucent fought alongside their masters. The air filled with war cries as steel clashed, and the battle thickened.

Goody's fire died in his throat, Azren mixed among Singriths made his flames too dangerous. To rain his inferno would scorch friend and foe alike.

He twisted away, turning sharply to reposition, but Simma's eyes caught something that froze his blood.

A rocket launcher.

Huge, very huge, that it was carried by two men. But before he could warn Goody, who had already turned around and didn't see it, the rocket was already speeding at them.

"No," Simma hissed.

his chest tightened. He could not lose Goody. He could not lose anyone else, not the way he lost Ms. Shady.

The rocket screamed toward them, leaving a crimson chromatic trail in the sky.

There was no time to hesitate.

Blue lucent scales shimmered to life around his hand, and his sword erupted from the glow.

He crouched, feet steady on Goody's back, and with reckless resolve, he backflipped off.

"Master, nooo!" Goody roared, twisting mid-air.

But Simma was already in the air, sword raised high, facing the incoming rocket.

YAAAAAGHHHHH!

He swung. A clean strike which cleaved the missile in two.

The halves spiralled away.... And he started to fall..... but then...

BOOM!

The explosion ripped the air apart. Simma was far enough to avoid being vaporized, but the shockwave slammed into him like a giant's hand, knocking him unconscious and sending him hurtling toward the earth.

"MASTER!" Goody screamed, diving after him, dodging another rocket streaking through the sky.

Simma was now only 70 feet away from the ground as Goody threw himself fully into a full dive. - 35 feet from crashing into a building as Goody increased its speed, sonic waves engulfing its scales, winds bracing his serpentine figure as he cut through the air.

4 feet, - 3 feet and....

At the last instant, Goody's claws snatched him from death, cradling him close as his serpentine body twisted violently, crashing through the roof of the building with its back, and came screeching down across floors until its motion slowed and stopped.

Goody coiled himself up, he had taken the full crash, and Simma was safe, curled in his arms.

"Master…" Goody's voice broke, deep and guttural. He laid Simma gently on the floor, shaking him carefully. "Master?"

No response. His eyes were shut, face singed and smoky.

"GRAAAAAAR!" Goody roared, the sound raw with anguish.... And then...

"Aaaahhh!"

Simma jolted awake, gasping.

Relief pulsed through Goody.

"Master is good. You saved Goody from peril. Goody is grateful."

Simma staggered to his feet, shaking his head clear, his eyes steel once again.

"We're not done, Goody." His voice was low, resolute, burning with unquenched rage.

"Take me back there. We have to finish this."

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