Damien stood on the other side of the hall while Lewis and three other members flanked him on either side.
"You're lucky you're not dead yet, Damien," Lewis said, his blue armor shimmering, his white gauntlets glowing with concentrated power. "Dragon blood is forbidden in this academy."
All of them wore different colored armor and gauntlets, but today, such distinctions didn't matter. Damien unfurled his shadowy dragon wings and launched himself toward them. He charged with reckless abandon, but his speed spiraled beyond his control. Lewis knocked Damien back several feet with his white gauntlet. A thunderous clap exploded through the halls as Damien's body hurtled backward and slammed into a nearby wall.
Damien staggered to his feet. He felt no pain. Why didn't he feel any pain? The wall should have hurt him—should have shattered his back—so why on earth—
Before he could finish the thought, another member descended upon him. The attacker smashed his red gauntlet into Damien's face, then drove a vicious kick into his side. His gauntlet plunged into Damien's stomach like a battering ram, creating a fist-sized hole. Black blood spilled everywhere, yet within seconds, the wound sealed itself. Only a faint mark remained where it had been.
Damien rose again. "I felt that one," he muttered.
A man with a yellow gauntlet leaped in front of him. The man with the red gauntlet mirrored the movement. They planned to strike the back and front of his head simultaneously. Both drew their fists back, channeling all their power through their gauntlets.
Suddenly, another instinctive roar surged through Damien—one he couldn't control. His mouth opened without permission. His muscles, his self-control, everything abandoned him. He unleashed a sonic roar that reverberated throughout nearly the entire academy. Some students abandoned their seats and rushed outside to investigate the disturbance. Others remained, listening to their teachers, indifferent to the chaos beyond.
The shockwave from the roar hurled the red and yellow gauntlet wielders backward. They crashed into the ceiling before plummeting down, their bodies falling limp.
"These dragons," Lewis muttered to himself, "such a pain to deal with."
The last man beside him—a figure clad in black armor with black gauntlets—stood there calmly. He raised his hand and unleashed a massive lightning bolt from his gauntlet. The black lightning blazed toward Damien, far too quick to dodge even with his enhanced speed. It struck him like a bullet train. His muscles locked. He tried to force his limbs to move, but they wouldn't obey. Eventually, the lightning ceased. Damien collapsed, his body rigid, his wings stiff. He hit the ground with a resounding thud.
Lewis and the black-armored man approached him. As they advanced, two figures walked down the hall. Both wore armor and gauntlets, but they weren't with Lewis.
"Let him go," the first man said, raising his gauntleted hand.
The second man smiled. "Yeah, he's ours."
The black-armored man raised his hand, but Lewis quickly pushed it down. "Save your energy for later," Lewis said. "I'll take care of these fools."
"Do you know that only the one who's allowed to hurt him is the one that's going to kill him?" the first man snarled. "Damien is ours. He'll always be ours, and we'll be damned if we let some little freak take him away."
Lewis finally recognized them. "Michael and Jacob."
Jacob smiled. "Oh, you finally recognized us, huh? Too late for that. Michael, go catch Damien for us. I'll take care of these losers—of course, if they don't intervene."
Michael rushed forward, seizing Damien before the other two members could react. The yellow and red armored men both stood, their consciousness returning. They assessed the situation, and the yellow-armored man immediately dashed forward, driving his fist into Michael's stomach. Michael's breath left him as he flew and skidded across the ground for several feet. He stood back up, correcting his posture and composing himself, but a red fist hurtled toward him. He dodged. Then a yellow fist came at him again. He dodged, weaving through both red and yellow strikes.
"You think that's what you really want?" Michael said. "I don't want to fight you guys. Well, actually I do, but I'll offer you something in return if you give us Damien. What I'll offer you is—"
Immediately, the red-armored man cut him off with a punch that sent Michael flying through the halls. The blow struck him directly in the forehead, rattling his brain. His head shook just enough to make him fall unconscious. Michael's body collapsed to the ground several feet away.
Jacob glanced at Michael's broken form. He couldn't pay much attention to it. He surged forward and tried to attack the black-armored man and Lewis. He knew which one was more skilled—clearly Lewis's companion. He thought Lewis's companion was far more dangerous than Lewis himself.
Damien finally regained consciousness. He rubbed his eyes, looking around. He saw Michael on the ground, passed out, and Jacob fighting both Lewis and the dark-armored man. The red-armored and yellow-armored men were both sprinting toward him. He unfurled his wings and shot into the sky without even trying. All he intended was to jump, yet instead he flew. He circled around them, dashing erratically. The red-gauntleted man threw a precise punch at exactly the right moment and sent Damien hurtling back toward a wall. He tried to stop himself with his wings, thinking his flight would save him.
Spoiler: it didn't.
The man's punch was too powerful. It knocked the wind out of him. He struck the wall, and a shockwave resounded. A massive hole opened in the wall, and Damien became lodged in the center—a human imprint embedded inside, along with the wing imprints.
The black-armored man stood motionless as Lewis fought Jacob. Jacob threw a punch, his green gauntlet glowing with power.
"You underestimated me, old man!" he yelled, striking Lewis in the head.
Lewis's head snapped back, but his body didn't move.
"Why are you so durable? Just die!" Jacob was growing irritated. He'd used all his energy in that attack, and all it did was move Lewis's head slightly. His body didn't even flinch.
Lewis laughed. "Pathetic."
"Don't you think I have considerable durability and strength by now?" Lewis said. "I've been fighting dragon bloods for a very long time. I admit, dragons are durable—very durable—but durability won't save you."
Lewis laughed again. "Now let's end this."
He drew his two blue swords from his back, crossing them as his blue armor shimmered. He removed his two white gauntlets. A portal opened and swallowed the gauntlets whole. As he gripped his swords, he flashed through the air, blade aimed for Jacob's neck. Jacob ducked, the sword nearly severing a piece of his hair. But Lewis wielded two swords. Jacob dodged as Lewis leaped up and brought his sword down toward him. He dodged again, and Lewis executed the exact same maneuver from the other side. Jacob dodged once more. The swords immediately flew back toward Lewis as if he possessed some gravitational force. He caught the blades and smiled.
"You're dead, kid."
A few feet away, Michael woke. He lifted his head. A fist imprint, bloody and deep, marked the middle of his forehead. He looked up, his eyes blazing with determination—determination to end the red-armored and yellow-armored figures. But they weren't in front of him. They were, in fact, fighting Damien, who remained stuck inside the hole in the wall, his wings and body imprinted into the surface.
"Pathetic, yellow-armored and red-armored figures," Michael muttered. "Completely worthless. Garbage. Undeserving trash. Waste of oxygen."
Michael cursed every insult under the sun as both figures stepped toward him.
"I'll show you all why you don't mess with me—"
Something cut him off and seized his neck. It moved faster than both figures combined. The figure wore dark armor. His face was obscured, and Michael couldn't see it. He was losing air. He tried to pry the man's hands away, but they were too strong.
The hands wouldn't budge as they clamped onto his neck. The man squeezed harder. Every time he squeezed, Michael felt his life force draining bit by bit, faster and faster each time. Black lightning coursed from the man's fingertips, surging into Michael's muscles, paralyzing him so he couldn't move, couldn't fight back.
Through his fading vision, Michael saw something that made his blood run cold. The dark-armored man's helmet began to crack, revealing a face underneath—a face Michael recognized. A face that shouldn't exist.
"No," Michael choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "You're supposed to be—"
The grip tightened, cutting off his words. Across the hall, Damien's eyes snapped open, glowing an unnatural crimson. Something ancient stirred within him, something far more terrifying than dragon blood. The walls began to tremble.
And then everything went black.