Extending his magical senses as far as they would go, while all the time on the lookout for the one dragon that they'd seen on the security cam, he slithered down another identical corridor, taking in the bracing and refreshing chill the air had to offer. It was a faint reminder of what he thought of as home. Smiling at having won the bet to be the one out here on the hunt for the cold, weak and defenceless dragon, he knew that under different circumstances he'd have thought it unsporting. But everything they'd been doing was to get their king back. Without him they had nothing. He'd been away too long. He could almost taste his monarch's freedom, and after that... retribution.
They hit the door at speed. Two of the medics had insisted on going first, something 'Nurse Conscience' had little problem with, fully aware that there would only be a few seconds in it. She knew she'd get her chance. As the door crashed off its hinges, twisting and writhing up in the air as it did so, the singular naga, its body swaying from side to side in front of a computer console, was the picture of surprise as eight enraged dragons tore through the opening and headed straight for him. If he'd managed to erect his shield he might have had an outside chance. But he was surprised, and slow to react. In his panic, he chose the wrong option and decided to go on the offensive. Lashing out with sickly green bolts of magic, the naga gave himself over to his power, one hundred percent.
They were, of course, much slower than they should have been, the cold, even now, taking its effect. But they were dragons. Born to fight, born to win. It was ingrained in their very DNA. Odds didn't matter. Not now. Not ever. In truth, the naga never really had a chance. His poisonous bolts tore through the wings of one of the leading medics, sending him spinning off to one side, before crashing into a bank of servers. One of the nurses had a bolt pierce her thigh, causing her to slump clumsily to the floor mid run. But by now they were on him and had already showered him with a whole host of brutal dragon magic. One had used a medical mantra designed to cut through scales during dragon surgery. It superheated the air into a fine beam strong enough to penetrate almost anything, tearing through the naga's chest, clean through to the other side, hitting the far wall. The next two dragons both had the same idea, now that they lacked their flame. Part of their jobs involved cutting, sometimes organs, sometimes bone, scale, muscle or tendon. You name a body part, they've probably cut it at some point. As they'd charged in, not knowing what to expect, the thought that had come to the fore in both of them was that it was easy enough to cast if you'd had the practice (which they had). The mantra in question could produce one, two, or many more, tiny, metallic circular spinning blades, with edges so sharp you could almost slice the air itself. Presently, eight or so of these blades were flying through the air, all at different angles, all headed for the stunned looking naga. 'Nurse Conscience', fifth through the gap where the now battered and smoking door had stood, readied the power within her. She was angry about everything that had happened today, and was more than happy to help destroy the cause of things. Unfortunately for her, she never got the chance. Stunned from the hole that now traversed his torso, the naga could do nothing against the spinning blades heading his way. Instantly, they all found their mark, all piercing his slippery, grey flesh. It was over before it had started. As a group they stood still, not exactly admiring their handiwork, more... taking stock. A split second later they realised they hadn't finished. While three of them tended to the injured, the other three tossed the naga's remains into a corner, and started to check out the computer, with a view to making things much more toasty.
Nipping around the corner of an intersection, reflecting on his decision to part with the sword, on the grounds of it being far too heavy to carry in his weakened state, the distraction and the fuzziness in and around his head almost cost him his life... almost, but not quite. The naga sent to find Steel had just slithered backwards out of a room marked 'Solar Recovery', in which three giant dragon sized beds lay, atop which stretched fabulously strong solar lighting and heating, designed to revive and rejuvenate sickly dragons, particularly those that had suffered the effects of severe cold. Just getting his head around what the beds were designed to do, the naga spun round only to find Steel directly in his path. Both were equally shocked to find the other one just standing there, and both recovered their wits at exactly the same time. Spinning three hundred and sixty degrees, the naga whipped his tail around with ferocious force. Steel leapt back, but the tail managed to catch the talons on his left foot, rolling him off balance into a small table full of books, newsletters and research papers. With Steel in a crumpled heap, the naga slithered over, determined to press home his advantage. But Steel, despite every bone in his body aching from the freezing cold air, wasn't done. Rolling onto his knees, he grasped the trunk of a huge potted palm and swung for all he was worth. The pot on the end of the plant shattered against the naga's skull with a resounding thud that echoed off down the corridor. Unusually unsure of himself or what action he should take next, an unaccustomed momentary lapse gave the confused naga a chance to get back into the fight. From the look on his face, he was determined to make Steel pay for what he'd just done.
A decision had been made, albeit just a little too late. They'd all finally agreed that they should leave the store cupboard and try and either find the others, or find somewhere warmer to hole up. The problem now was that it had gotten so cold, the doctor was struggling to access his magic and remove the mantras put there to stop the door from being open. And the longer he couldn't do it, the colder it got. Ironic really, given the lengths they'd gone to in an effort to prevent the door from being accessed.
"You need to reverse the effects and get the temperature up quickly," implored one of the medics treating the injured nurse in the control room.
"I'm trying, but I've been locked out of the environmental system. It's going to take me a few more minutes I'm afraid."
"I don't think he's got a few more minutes," stammered a nurse watching the bank of monitors on the other side of the room. As one, they all gathered, apart from the dragon that was trying to crack the computer. There, large as life, was Steel, being pummelled and beaten amongst the remains of a table, barely able to bring his hands up in front of himself for protection. No doubt the cold had taken its toll, more so on his newly reformed scales than it had on any of the others watching.
"He needs an injection of heat... and fast," put in the nurse that had called them over.
That was stating the obvious.
"What about the solar recovery room?" suggested 'Nurse Conscience'.
"I'm not really convinced he's got time to lie down and be recharged. I can't be sure though."
These medical staff, she thought, were unlike any she'd ever worked with. They were always so arrogant and sarcastic, more often than not missing an idea or a point entirely.
"I don't mean to go and lie down on. I mean, is it possible to overload the beds and make that entire area hot?"
"Ohhh," replied the sarcastic one, scratching his bony jaw line. "Maybe it is, maybe it is," he mumbled, wandering over to one of the other computers. "Is it just the environmental controls you've been locked out of?" he shouted over to the other dragon, working hard to get the heating up to speed.
"As far as I can tell," he replied.
With blinding speed, and no thought other than overloading the solar recovery beds, commands were punched in, sliders moved, safeguards and alarms overridden.