Now, where were my pants? I couldn't fight a Hero like Armsmaster naked now could I?
And why did that make me want to shriek and cover myself? My shame had burned away long ago, and, if I do say so myself, I have nothing to be ashamed of.
I looked down at myself. See? And that's without the Dragon kicking in.
Great... now I'm blushing. Stupid brain thing.
I looked around at the road where I had fought Lu- the little one. Skitter. Right.
Ah, there it was. I made a note to reward the Robe Bearer. He had done well.
Robe Bearer? Well, it sounded far better than "Lung's Pants Boy" now didn't it?
I chortled in the night air.
In any event, Whenever an altercation might occur that I need to take a personal hand in, he is to flee but also leave behind clothes. Not too near or risk burning them, and not too far that it'd annoy me to fetch them.
I don't know why it helped to explain things to myself, and, judging by the sound of that Tinkered bike, I'd only have time for the jeans. Something to think about later.
I drew them on and zipped up the fly very carefully. They tended to break if I tugged too hard, and while none of the men would dare say anything, it just wouldn't do for Lung's fly to be open.
Now that I wasn't naked, my mind drew towards Armsmaster.
Why was I upset with him? We had fought, yes, but that was what Heroes and Villains did. He was professional about it, he wasn't insulting like the bugs I splattered in the Empire88, nor disgusting to the senses like the Merchants, so why...
I relaxed and let my mind wander for a second. Resentment bubbled up.
Really...Maggots in the mucous membranes isn't terribly Heroic.
You realize none of that has happened right?
There was a moment of peace in my mind as it shrank into itself. A reflex action?
Naturally, that was the ideal time to pounce. I was good at that.
I am Lung. You ran from me. No Undersiders helped you. Armsmaster will not be facing me unconscious. Things have changed.
More silence. I felt wetness under my mask.
I dipped a finger and found something I hadn't had in a long time. Tears.
Not the pitch that leaked from my metallic eyes after being sprayed with pepper spray or stabbed, but actual tears.
How long had it been?
Since Japan fell?
Since my mother died? I felt a brief echoing spike, a synchronicity.
I dried the tears with a little bit of fire.
There now. Lung does not cry. Dragons do not weep.
Yes. But only when they are devouring their prey.
I turned towards the approaching noise. Seconds away at the most.
Now, what was my plan to be?
At the edge of the alley where I had gathered my jeans plenty of garbage was nearby.
I easily spotted a fly.
I pointed a finger at it. I thought really hard at it.
I am Lung! Come here.
The fly ignored me and continued doing that sinister thing that flies do with their hands.
She, I emphasized to myself, She could control them, you are not her. You are Lung. I am Lung.
At that, I strode calmly to the middle of the road.
There was a special spot under the yellow street lights this city used, and Oni-Lee and I had practiced for many late nights to get it just so.
Now, where was that spot?
I shuffled a half step forward. And now stand so my shadow is just so...
Ah, there, the light hit my mask and yet the shadows covered everything else.
Then a teeny touch of fire, inside, and my eyes glowed.
A proper dragon's face.
I felt conflicted.
I will do as I always do.
And you know this how? It never happened to you.
The conflict within me vanished.
I was Lung and only Lung.
---===---
As Armsmaster smoothly rounded the turn, his thermal sensors on his bike pinged at the exact instant his eyes caught sight of him.
Lung.
He wasn't moving. Should he charge him? Ride by and take a swing? Where was Oni-Lee? He wasn't getting any thermals on the rooftops, or clumps that would indicate gangs. Nor radio signals.
Was this a trap?
He slowed and came to a stop thirty yards away, coincidentally in his own pool of lamplight. He switched his bike to stealth-mode, where it sounded like he'd turned it off, but merely switched it to an extremely efficient electric mode. Ready to move in an instant. He dismounted and drew his iconic weapon.
Lung's mask gleamed and his tattoos seemed to glow. In contrast, the strong blue that had been carefully chosen by focus groups for his own armor looked almost black in the harsh yellow light.
Lung did not move. But he did speak.
"Morning."
It has been a good long while since Armsmaster had felt the presence of danger so manifestly demonstrated as this without hearing the Endbringer sirens in the distance. Almost every new cape was threatening because of the unknown they brought with them. Once he knew what they did, once the unknown was revealed, he always found a counter. And he had one to try now.
Lung was standing perfectly still in the middle of the road, arms at his sides, and Armsmaster sensed instantly that Lung was not standing at attention, he was standing at rest - like a savage animal confident of the brutality coiled up inside him. But no fire, no growth, no scales...
He realized he was staring. He needed to say something. "Surrender."
There. Commanding and efficient. Sure to provoke a reaction.
"That doesn't interest me, Armsmaster, and frankly, it's the sort of thing a weakling would say. Now try again."
His speaking voice had the precision of a man so arrogant he could barely be bothered to address the sloppy antics of the person in front of him.
It also was nearly without the thick accent he was known for.
Something was seriously wrong here.
Nonetheless, he took a step forward.
"You are a wanted criminal and-"
"No." Lung leaned forward at tad. "I am glory." He took a small step forward in return. Now his face was fully in shadow, only his eyes gleamed red. "I am your glory."
When Armsmaster didn't respond, Lung pressed on. "You come here, alone, to face me. No backup, no support, fully confident in whatever gadget you have made to defeat me."
He chuckled as he left the harsh pool of light, now just a tattooed man in jeans with a metal mask. "You are starving for glory, for recognition. Why else would you walk into the Dragon's lair?"
---===---
[Bigger! More Scales! More Fire!]
[No?]
Skepticism echoed. It took a while.
[Those always work. Against man. Against machine. Against Army. Against Culling Units.]
[Yes. And even against Another.]
Visions came of beings, vast, mighty, and multi-dimensional. Sometimes there would be two sides in competition over a single world. Conflict. Golden beams were deployed, as was Sting. But its scales would grow, and golden beams could be endured. Where Sting struck, it healed. Healed and grew thicker so Sting could hurt less. And fire, well, fire was simple yet efficient, and with enough of it, even Another would burn.
[Needles!]
[Scales!]
They had to go somewhere, and when the host shrank back into a man it retrieved them and studied the damage done, always seeking to improve, to refine, to study.
And of course, it kept the scales from inside the skulls as well.
It showed them off proudly. Echoes of Lung, from every battle worthy enough to pass the minimum threshold.
Such beautiful three-dimensional circuitry. And it knew them all.
And if he ever lost his head, well, plenty of backups.
Including today's.
It knew.
[Go on...]
---===---
I could feel my scales grow, the old itch that was strangely comforting, but it was strange. As my hands were kept palm up towards Armsmaster, I could feel the itch travel down the backs of my forearms to the back of my hands. My back, everywhere covered in jeans, in fact, it was...
It was everywhere Armsmaster couldn't see. And they felt different.
We were less than ten feet apart now.
I was ready.
"You can always run," I offered him. "I have things to take care of, I will not pursue."
He frowned and tightened his grip on his halberd. I shrugged, faintly hearing the tinkle of tiny scales by my ear.
"Very well then. Come take your glory if you can."
I didn't tighten my hands into fists, but I did hunch forward slightly. My toes curled slightly, digging into the asphalt.
He didn't move as much, but I caught the subvocal whispers, the minute motions as he was toggling things with his eyes behind the mask.
We were ready.
Then I smiled and looked over his shoulder.
"Do it," I said with a small nod behind him.
---===---
Armsmaster's eyes widened as he spun in a half circle, halberd screaming in a perfect arc to strike the teleporting man behind him. Only to strike nothing, not even ash.
A trick. Heavy footsteps were behind him.
He continued to spin as he sought to point the tip of his weapon at his target, only to find it battered out of his hands.
Lung was before him, glee on his face as scales crept along it.
But he hadn't escalated much yet, he still had a chance.
He clenched his right fist and swung, trusting in the armor to deliver the force.
His first punch met with Lung's own. Metal clashed against metal as scaled knuckles and power-armor met. Lung found his arm being pushed back by the force.
Emboldened, Armsmaster swung his left. As his fist approached, things poked out between the knuckles.
[Needles!]
Lung's own hand batted the blow aside at the wrist, only to step in and grab.
Armsmaster found his bracers groaning at the pressure they were under and then he was airborne, thrown down the street away from his bike and his halberd.
Perfect.
He turned the ungainly tumble into a roll and got to his feet with a fluid grace a gymnast would envy. As he turned to face his opponent he slapped a button on the inside of his bracer.
Lung would find out just how much non-lethal ordinance he could cram into a motorcycle.
---===---
I had taken a step towards Armsmaster when I felt the wires strike my bare back. I almost snorted. A taser, really?
I felt the tingle, briefly, but my scales protected me from the majority of it. That'd drop a normal person but not-
The engine on his bike revved, then howled.
I was certainly feeling it now.
Then came the gas. Tear gas mixed with obscuring smoke and soporifics, all while the horn alternated between sharp rapid acoustic blasts to deafen me, and what my guts could only declare was large amounts of brown noise.
Thankfully there was a lot of fire in my belly by now, Lung was not wearing any brown pants.
I glared through watery eyes at the offending machine. Scales grew and it bothered me no more.
Best to deal with this like a Brute. He'd grow suspicious otherwise.
---===---
Armsmaster hadn't had time to switch to the ultrasonics to see through the cloud, barely two seconds had passed and he was toggling for the teleporter for his halberd. Thus he was completely surprised when his bike was returned to him.
He turned the panicked jump into a smooth roll as the motorcycle, trailing wires, smoke, and noise, crashed into the spot he was just at. Turning, he got to one knee just as the halberd teleported into his hand and he pointed it at the cloud ready for the inevitable charge.
The smoke cleared. Lung was nowhere to be found.
Where-
A blow struck him from behind, sending him crashing into a light pole and denting it severely.
Blurrily, he focused on the damage report on his back. A footprint. Lung had kicked him in the back.
But how? How was he so fast?
---===---
I had wondered where all the fire had went. It wasn't gone, it was all inside, in my belly, tiny channels of scales inside guiding it, ready to shoot out of my mouth, my hands, or apparently, my feet.
Now, why hadn't I thought of that?
I reached for the man and hauled him to his feet with one hand, keeping my other firmly on the halberd to point it away from me. His extra weight meant nothing to me, and I slammed him into the pole, denting it further.
Goodness, two decent fights, alone, in one day. I had to savour this.
"This was fun. But, you made the same mistake all men do when they hunt a dragon." I smiled, feeling the scales rasp at the alien motion. "You didn't notice all the bones outside the cave."
By this point, he had recovered enough to speak. I let go and reared my hand back, ready to finish this.
"No," he grunted at me. "You made the mistake. Rule One of being a Tinker: Always have a backup." And twisted the handle of his halberd.
With a metallic pop, I was holding the upper half. He pointed the lower half squarely at my face. A trigger popped out.
Fucking Tinkers!
The street rang with shots.
---===---
Seven darts flew towards the Villain. Six landed. He'd work on refining the aim for the short barrel later.
Two landed in his upper chest, one in his neck, two in the hand he'd thrown up to protect his face, leaving but one in his cheek.
Two needles would have been enough with the sedatives he'd created.
He smiled. He had won! Against the strongest cape in the city, against one who had taken on an Endbringer in single combat!
Even as Lung reared back to roar, the darts had clamped on, and were drilling in and-
And then they exploded. Chunks of scales fell off his chest, neck, hand and cheek, revealing smooth human skin.
"R-Reactive Armor?!?" Armsmaster could taste the bitter ashes of defeat in his throat. "You can do that?!?"
---===---
I can do that?
[ERA! SLERA! Learning!]
Neat.
And I crushed the lower handle before he could shoot me again.
---===---
Armsmaster hit the empty car and felt it slide in its parking stall.
He could still do this!
He tried to reach for his gauntlet but missed. His other hand was bent the wrong way.
He blinked and tried to focus. He'd have to fix that later.
"Colin..."
Reinforcements? But he hadn't told anyone he was going...
A hand gently picked him up. Who was strong enough to do that?
"Oh, Colin..."
His eyes swam into focus. What little of his face exposed became pale, and not just through blood loss.
"What are you?"
It chuckled.
---===---
I chuckled and turned to the side mirror of the car, the huge dent had placed it at just the perfect angle.
I was beautiful.
Thin, light sensitive scales, arranged like the compound eyes of an insect, had grown around my eyes.
That's why the gas stopped bugging me.
Thin, delicate scales covered every inch of me, but the pattern wasn't reptilian, more like living, woven mail. Even my mouth was covered now, which had disappointed it so much. It preferred the fangs and the segmented jaws, but here I could speak, and the loose skin was porous enough that I could both breathe and be heard.
And my hair had grown as well, long enough to reach my waist, just like it was supposed to be.
"I'm trying something new out," I said. "What do you think?"
He groaned and tried to reach for his comm.
"Time to join the bones."
And then there was nothing but the sound of metal being destroyed.