Aloft on his garish, golden wings, Tycondrius stared down at Rixen Ra's true form.
--impressive and monumental in size...
...but less so, after Tycon had properly donned Divine Armor Sol.
If he were grounded, he'd reach almost half the red's height.
Err... perhaps a third if Rixen were to stand on his hind legs.
The god of gas and plasma had successfully dealt with an entire wave of colossals. At first glance, there were more chunks of pink and grey scaleflesh, viscera, and body parts than buildings still intact.
"Well done, enemy of my enemy," he chuckled. "You're next."
Rixen stood on his hind legs.
Bah.
The lizard swept his white-hot ⌈Breath Weapon⌋ in an arc on the ground, devastating a swath of smaller godbeasts.
...Hm.
Interesting... That gave Tycon a beauteous window of time where he didn't have to worry about solar fire.
