"Sometimes the scariest thing you can do is stand still and let everyone wonder if you’re actually that strong or just that crazy." — DaMiLaRe.
Just like that, the creature’s jaw was right there, directly below him.
The soft tissue under the Drake’s jaw was exposed, glowing faintly in his Beast Analysis vision.
The Drake looked up, and for one fraction of a second, their eyes met. The beast’s orange pupils were wide with confusion and fear, staring up at the masked figure descending toward it from the ceiling.
Then Micah’s fist connected.
His right hand was ruined, but he didn’t need a good hand. He just needed contact.
His knuckles hit the soft tissue beneath the Drake’s jaw. The flesh compressed, then tore, and his fist kept going, punching through tissue and cartilage until it hit bone.
The contact was solid, clean, and perfect. The Kinetic Disruption frequency went off on impact.
Purple light exploded from the point of contact, so bright it left an afterimage burned into Micah’s eyes.
The shockwave traveled through the jawbone and shot upward, through the skull, past the nerve clusters, and slammed directly into the brain stem.
The soft tissue at the center of the creature’s nervous system, the part that controlled breathing, heartbeat, and every automatic function that kept the beast alive, turned to liquid in an instant.
The Drake made a sound.
Something was wrong with its breathing. A bubbly, pathetic sound came from its throat as magma leaked from the corner of its mouth and hit the floor with a hiss.
The creature’s orange eyes went dull. The glow dimmed, and eventually it completely vanished, leaving behind lifeless black orbs that stared at nothing.
The fire in its throat died, and the heat in the vault dropped so fast that Micah’s sweat turned cold on his skin.
The tail gave one last twitch, then went still.
The Drake’s legs gave out. All four buckled at the same time, and the enormous body dropped straight down.
BOOOM!!
It hit the vault floor with an impact that shook the entire facility. The concrete cracked in a circle around the creature’s body, server racks bounced off the ground, and a section of the ceiling collapsed, sending chunks of concrete and dust raining down across the vault.
The sound lingered for a long moment, then silence settled over the room.
The Obsidian Drake lay motionless in a spreading pool of blood that seeped from its shattered jaw.
Its scales, which had been gleaming moments ago, looked dull, and the body was already cooling as the leftover heat bled out of it and into the concrete beneath.
Micah didn’t land on his feet.
His body hit the floor hard, shoulder-first. He groaned in pain, his whole body aching from the impact.
He rolled twice, crashed into the base of the titanium wall, and lay there gasping for air.
His right hand was beyond pain now, as the Kinetic Disruption feedback had cooked what was left of the skin and the bone beneath was visible through the raw tissue.
He tried to laugh, but all that came out was a bloody cough. A few drops of blood hit the floor.
From the vault entrance, two people stood frozen in place.
Dexter and Myra hadn’t moved an inch.
Their weapons hung at their sides. Their mouths were open, their eyes wide, and their faces pale with shock.
They had just watched a masked stranger run up a wall, backflip through the air, and kill an Obsidian Drake with a single punch to the jaw.
One damn punch!
The Drake that they had been ready to die to, the creature that had made the academy’s second-ranked recruit drop his sword and hide behind a woman, was dead. Killed in one hit by someone they’d never seen before.
At first, Dexter and Myra had assumed the masked stranger was a Transcendent Warrior. Maybe even a powerful one.
But after watching what he had just done, they were starting to question that assumption.
Maybe he wasn’t a warrior at all.
Maybe he was just a monster wearing a human face.
Dexter’s legs buckled.
It wasn’t a choice. His knees just gave out involuntarily. The muscles holding them up apparently deciding they’d had enough.
He dropped to the cold floor with his broadsword lying forgotten behind him, and his hands went up in front of his chest like he was being robbed at gunpoint.
"We didn’t see anything!" Dexter blurted. The words tumbled out so fast they tripped over each other.
"We got lost. We were just exploring the ruins. We didn’t mean to intrude on your hunt. Please. We’ll leave. We won’t tell anyone. I swear on my life, I swear on my family name, I swear on everything I own, please don’t kill us."
He was groveling. The academy’s second-ranked recruit, the pride of the Ashford family, the man who had called Micah garbage and useless and a coward, was on his knees in a pool of mutant blood, begging a masked stranger for mercy.
Myra wasn’t much better.
She stood beside Dexter with her short blades at her sides. Her hands had stopped shaking, but only because she’d loosened her grip so much that the weapons were barely staying in her fingers.
Her green eyes were wide, and her jaw was clenched so tight the muscles in her neck were bulging.
She bowed her head.
"Please," she said quietly. Her voice was controlled and measured, but Micah could hear the crack underneath it.
"We’re just recruits. Students. We stumbled into this place by accident and meant no disrespect."
She paused, swallowed hard, then continued.
"Please spare our lives."
Myra. The woman who had formally requested a score review to strip Micah of his first-place ranking. The woman who had called his victory sloppy, desperate, and lucky. She was bowing her head and asking for her life.
Behind the mask, Micah smiled, even with blood on his lips and exhaustion weighing him down.
At that point, Micah completely forgot about the pain. All he could do was smile. He was smiling so hard that, if he didn’t hold himself back, he would have burst out laughing.