Jumping out of the way of a dazzling purple net that sizzled to the ground next to him, briefly the young hockey playing dragon considered reverting back to his natural form. Almost immediately though, he dismissed the idea. For the likes of Tank, it kind of made sense. His dragon body was huge, almost that of a laminium ball player. For Peter it was somewhat different... almost embarrassingly so. In his dragon form, he could fit quite neatly underneath one of Tank's mighty wings. So while he was reasonably agile and nimble in the air, that wasn't really a part of the battle he wanted to get involved with at the moment. Things were hard enough here on the ground... having glanced across the newly rebuilt bridge, he could see a massive force of dragons and nagas gathering there. He had little doubt that in no time at all, when Manson gave the command, the air above them would be filled with enemies. And while he was comfortable in the air, to him it seemed like the natural alternative was to stay in his human guise and help as best he could on the ground. Besides... it wasn't like he was the only one. Currently, George the king, Fredric his grandfather, Richie his best friend, Tank when he'd last seen him, and Flash were all in their falsehood human bodies, and so he figured he was in good company.
Evading monstrous heaps of rubble being dropped from the air by some of the dark dragons, Peter instinctively rolled off to one side as a spluttering, brilliant white, errant spark cut through where his head had been only moments ago. Thanking his lucky stars, and still reasonably sure he was protected by the shield from breaking the alea, even though he couldn't see or feel it, a sense of urgency started to niggle away at him. Glancing over his shoulders to make sure there was no immediate threat, it was then that he realised what the warning meant. Spotting the hulking, great, one-eyed prehistoric monster through the explosions and the magical melee, creeping ever closer to the love of his life, he knew he had to act. Without a thought for his own safety, he leapt over the lifeless remains of a silver shaded naga and sprinted straight into a cacophony of the supernatural, heading directly towards her.
Stomping towards his completely off guard prey, the humungous beast stopped when he knew he was in range. Ignoring some of the errant magical attacks that harmlessly bounced off his remaining scales, the sensation brought forth childhood memories of being tickled, causing him to pause momentarily. For a being so full of anger and violence, it was an odd turn of events, but one which fortunately allowed the young hockey playing dragon to close in on the threat he recognised to his beloved Janice.
Familiarity blossomed, causing her to open her eyes as her heart skipped a beat. There, directly in front of her, through the haze of the many different types of magic, her one true love appeared, poking through the multicoloured mist, rushing towards her at speed. Ignoring Fu-ts'ang's protests, her mind wandered. About to get up and throw herself into his onrushing arms, abruptly a cold chill ran down Janice's spine, filling her with dread. Slowly she swivelled her head and looked up to see the back of the gargantuan dark dragon, his head looking around at her, just like she was watching him. Roaring loudly with delight at the look of utter terror on the female bar worker's face, the prehistoric monstrosity raised his ferocious club-like tail in the air, and prepared to bring it down right on top of her.
Confused at his partner's temporary lack of concentration, Fu-ts'ang skewered the last of the six nagas that had been attempting to flank Yoyo's contingent of misfits, straight through the heart, all the time willing his comrade to come back to him. Unexpectedly he found their telepathic link cut. Stunned by the sensation of terror which had been the very last thing he'd got from Janice, the ancient artefact willed himself on, desperate to intervene. But it wasn't as simple as that. For his spirit to have physical control over the outer cage it resided in, he had to have a partner. Those were just the rules and had been that way for thousands of years. And so glancing at the young woman he now thought of as his friend, across the field of battle, he looked on helplessly as a mighty red and yellow spiked tail came crashing down towards her. The absolute dread on her face would have broken his heart, if he still had one. Clinking to the floor, the frost enshrouded weapon shivered ever so slightly as the prisoner consciousness bound inside it roared in fury and frustration at the futility of his situation.
Mouth dry, head pounding, heart threatening to burst through his chest, much like the alien in the film with the same name, he put everything he had into running as fast as he could. Not as fast as either Flash or Richie, he was still a blurred streak to almost everyone around him. Dropping his shoulder, he weaved around a bright blue bolt of magic that went on to strike a naga another twenty metres off his position. Unable to worry about how that turned out, he kept moving, aware only of what he was trying to do.
Frozen in place by fear, Janice cowered beneath the jaw dropping shadow of the wicked tail that was about to crush her. From out of nowhere, suddenly she was thrust to the ground. Barely able to breathe, she turned over to find the one being she'd climbed down into this fantasy world and fought dragons for. Peter! Shocked and elated both at the same time, without hesitation she leaned in and kissed him passionately on the lips. His surprise was palpable, but that didn't stop him getting caught up in the moment, losing himself entirely in his one true love. That is until the monstrous dark dragon decided to have a second crack at them, bringing his gargantuan spiked tail crashing down atop of them. Clinched in a warm embrace, the earth quite literally moved for them both, as what remained of the alea's shield saved them from a very unsavoury end.
As the two lovers scrambled to their feet, and with what magic was left of the shield protecting Peter hissing, spluttering and sparking all around them, holding each other's hand, they backpeddalled furiously as the crazed looking dragon, having turned around to face them, stomped forward. Gripped by blind panic, and just as they thought it was over, a distorted movement off to one side had their mouths hanging open. Before their attacker had a chance to react, a cartwheeling Richie landed on his tail, weaved around the deadly spikes and sprinted straight up the top of it. The floundering dark dragon waved his arms, flapped his wings and shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of this recently arrived menace. But it did him no good. Richie's balance was perfect, and just like a rodeo rider atop a bucking bronco, there was no shaking her. With the ancient beast about to take flight, figuring that just might get rid of her, the young human shaped lacrosse player reached around behind her back, pulled free the exquisite laminium dagger and in one single, very deadly move, buried the weapon deep into the top of the dragon's head. As his giant jaw slumped forward, the beast exhaled for the last time. Withdrawing her dagger, Richie back-flipped to the ground, barely missing the fountain of green blood spouting from the fatal wound. Landing with a THUD beside her two friends, she used the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe the blood from the blade as the dragon's dead body crumpled to the ground with a CRASH.
Temporarily stunned because of what had just happened, it didn't take long for the two lovers to recover. Janice was first to react, throwing herself at Richie, enveloping the petite lacrosse player in the mother of all hugs. All smiles and laughter, the sporting superstar returned the hug, telling the bar worker just how good it was to see her. Looking on, Peter could hardly believe what he was seeing.
'Since when did the two of them become so chummy? What on earth have I missed?'