"The best way to deal with a dragon is to make it think you’re a bigger dragon." — Sun Tzu, probably.
The Prism’s energy rolled out from Micah’s body in a wave. Nobody could see it, but everyone could feel it.
The pressure hit the vault walls first, then the floor, then the ceiling, saturating every inch of the enclosed space. Even the air felt harder to breathe.
The Obsidian Drake felt it too.
The creature’s jaws, which had been opening for a fire blast, clamped shut.
The magma in its throat cooled, turning into grey chunks that fell from its mouth.
The beast’s orange eyes dimmed.
Its slit pupils widened, narrowed, then widened again as the creature struggled to understand what its instincts were telling it.
And right now, that power was radiating from the masked figure standing in the middle of the vault.
The Drake’s legs buckled.
All four of them, at the same time.
Its belly dropped toward the floor as its claws scraped against the concrete. Its heavy tail curled toward its body. The obsidian scales along its back shook against each other, making a deep grinding sound.
It was submitting.
"Oh wow. The power I’m holding right now must be pretty damn potent. Potent enough to make this ugly-ass monster submit to me."
The Drake lowered its head. Its horns pointed toward the floor. Then it made a low, weak whine.
It sounded like a dog that knew it had just done something very stupid.
He needed to act now, while the power was still strong, before the beast realized he was only bluffing.
Through Beast Analysis, Micah’s system highlighted the weak point. A single red marker glowed beneath the Drake’s lower jaw, pulsing faintly in his vision.
The soft tissue that the obsidian scales didn’t cover, the direct path to the central brain stem.
Most likely, one hit was all he needed. One clean strike with Kinetic Disruption to the jaw, and the frequency would travel straight into the creature’s brain and shut it down permanently.
But the Drake’s jaw was three meters off the ground. Even with the Shadow Step Boots, he couldn’t jump that high from a standing position, not with his Flux reserves nearly empty and his body falling apart.
He needed height. He needed momentum. He needed a surface to launch from.
His eyes swept the vault, searching for options. The server racks were too short and too unstable. The Stone-Ape’s corpse was a pile of rubble. The containment pedestal was too far away.
The wall?
The titanium wall behind him. The same wall that had caught him twice during the fight with the Stone-Ape. The same wall that still had the shape of his body pressed into the metal.
It was six meters behind him and four meters to the left. If he sprinted, hit the wall at the right angle, and ran up the surface, he could launch himself from the top of the arc and come down directly over the Drake’s jaw.
It was a terrible idea considering the state of his body.
The moment he moved, the Prism’s aura would fluctuate, and the Drake might snap out of its paralysis.
But if he didn’t move, the aura would fade on its own in a few seconds anyway. The Prism wasn’t his power. It was borrowed, and borrowed things always ran out.
So basically, it was 50/50. He had to make a move, sooner or later.
Micah turned his back on the Drake.
The movement was deliberate, slow and controlled. He didn’t want to startle the beast. He just needed to put himself between the wall and the creature, with enough distance to build speed.
The Drake’s eyes tracked him. The trembling lessened slightly. The pupils contracted a fraction.
The primitive brain behind those orange irises sensed something shifting. The supposed apex predator was turning its back, walking away.
Prey didn’t do that.
The creature’s jaw slowly opened again. A faint orange glow appeared between its teeth as magma began to gather at the back of its throat.
"Faster. Go FASTER!!!"
The Shadow Step Boots fired. The thrusters kicked in at full power, sending him racing across the vault floor.
His whole body ached with every step, sending pain through him. Blood filled his mouth, and he spat it out as he kept running.
The wall came up fast.
His boots hit the titanium surface, and the thrusters adjusted, shifting his momentum from horizontal to vertical.
He ran up the wall, each step carrying him higher.
The metal was dented and uneven from the earlier impacts, and his left boot slipped on the third step.
His knee slammed into the titanium, sending a sharp pain through his leg.
But his right boot caught, thrusters flaring purple against the metal, and he kept climbing.
He reached the right height and pushed off.
He pushed off the wall, his legs swinging upward as he twisted into a backflip. The ceiling, floor, wall, and Drake seemed to shift around him as he flipped through the air.