AUTHOR'S INTRO:
Hey guys and gals! I'm Toa Aerrow, and welcome to the start of my Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons Superhero AU!
This is a project I've been working on with Superfan44 and to some extent Hanaekaptr for a while now, more than a year and a half in fact, and I've been trying for so long to get it off the ground. The only reason I've really failed at doing so is my own tendency to just sloth around every time I don't have to travel for three hours a day to go to catch a university lecture.
However, now that I've been accepted into a place really close to uni, with a move-in date of February 20, I am doing my best to start changing now so I can make the most of it when I get there. And that starts with this chapter.
I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Not only do I want to impress despite the fact that my writing skills have definitely faded due to my hiatus, but I also have links at the bottom of the page that I want to bring to your attention. I want to start being someone I want to be, and I need your help to become that person. I'll explain at the bottom of the page.
For now, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the prologue of Night Fury.
WARNING: As per all my stories, this one will contain mild swearing. I will try to keep F-bombs to a minimum, but, like the MCU, most other words are fair game.
Prologue: This is Berk
Toa Aerrow Presents
In collaboration with Superfan44 and Hanaekaptr
A story Inspired by Dreamworks' 'How to Train Your Dragon'
With characters from:
Dreamworks' 'How to Train Your Dragon'
Disney's 'Frozen' and 'Wreck-It Ralph'
And Disney-Pixar's 'Brave'
This is Berk.
A mountainous island sitting in the freezing Atlantic breeze. Most of the island was made of treacherous cliffs, heavily clouded and overshadowing the sea below. There were no beaches on the island, the cliff lining the entire coast, keeping the crashing waves at bay. But on the south-west side of the island, the cliffs dropped down to relatively flat terrain, upon which a small city had been built. Nestled into the wall of the taller cliffs, the town was separated from the climb by a single spire of a mountain, imaginatively called the Spire.
It's forty-four degrees north of the equator, and only three degrees south of freezing to death.
It's located solidly off of the east coast of Maine.
The city itself sat on a smaller cliff, held safely way from the torment of the harbor below. The only access from the water was a small port sitting in the mouth of a cave sitting at the base of the cliff, which had been built into a fancy seaport. [1]
My city. In one word: Resilient.
It's been here for little over two hundred years, and yet almost every single building has been rebuilt recently.
The town was small, for a city, with not much room on the island to work with. But small as it was, it hadn't been left behind by the world the way some small places have, boasting not one, but two booming industries that practically ran the island.
The most prominent of these industries owned the Tower that sat next to the Spire, the one and only skyscraper on the island. Rivaling the height of the mountain, the Tower boasted the logo of one of the fastest-growing conglomerates that side of the US: DunBroch Corp.
We have TV, Wi-Fi, and a charming view of the sunrises,
At first glance the island would seem peaceful. Small, far from the rest of the world, with great views of the ocean and almost no noise from cars, since the city was only barely big enough to need one to get from one side to the other. A nice retirement home, you'd imagine.
The only problems are the criminals.
You'd really miss the mark on that one.
5:12 AM
Friday morning
In summer, dawn started early. By five o'clock in the morning in May, the sky turned from black, to grey, then blue and gold as the sun's rays started to peak over the horison, bathing the ocean in light. It was a spectacular sight, and there weren't many people on Berk who want to miss that.
But today they had no choice.
DunBroch Tower sat at one end of a plaza, one that most considered the centre of the city, economically if not geometrically. During the day it was usually empty, with most people either already at work, at school or at home. It was the evenings and the mornings when this place was most crowded, with people trying to get from here to there.
At this point in time it was indeed crowded, but no one was going anywhere. They were too busy being held back by the police blockade.
News helicopters roared in the sky above Dunbroch Tower, cameras trained on the foot of the Tower, where the few officers who weren't keeping civilians back carefully kept their distance from the building. They stood, watching, weary of the building, more specifically of the people currently inside it. After all, no one wanted to be caught by surprise by the Outcasts.
The Outcasts were a criminal gang that called Berk home. Most of them lived in the dankest of alleyways or the sewers, living off the scraps and junk of the city around them. But in recent years, under their leader, the man who had united the low-lifes of Berk, they had become a formidable force that simply liked to cause havoc for the people of Berk. Mostly they hid in the shadows, taking pot-shots at the few businesses on the island and just being nuisances. Taking DunBroch Tower hostage was a step-up in their game.
And that is what had all of Berk on alert.
A single police car rolled to a stop outside the plaza, joining the others sitting outside the barricade. Out of the car climbed a mountain of a man. Six feet tall, with an auburn lion's mane of a beard adorning his chin. His arms were muscled, well-toned from years of giving bad people a piece of his mind. The blue-and-white Kevlar uniform he wore was nothing special, apart from its size, and the golden badge with "Chief" emblazoned on it. Right now, this man was the most important person in the city.
The Chief of police stomped into the plaza, scowling up at the Tower as he let past the blockade with a small nod to his subordinates. He'd fought the Outcasts for as long as they'd been around. Long enough to know what they were capable of thanks to their leader. But no matter how strange their sudden attack on the Tower was, he would take it like any other incident: push on, and get everyone through it.
"Chief Haddock."
With a grunt, he turned to see the woman who addressed him, who, as it happens, wasn't actually a policewoman. The blond-haired no-nonsense woman was a Sergeant from the US Special Forces, one of their finest.
As an army Sergeant, she wore a standard army vest and overalls, as well as a utility belt that hung loosely on her hips, stocked with grenades, and of course her trusty handgun, and strapped to her back was a much larger, heavy submachine gun-RPG combo, ammo fully loaded and ready. In the Sergeant's hand was a smartphone-sized scanner, a compact device equipped with a miniaturized EEG, wavelength-scanner, Geiger counter and others, capable of detecting living forms within a short range, even from within a building. It was even able to differentiate different types of people within the given range. Small or large, armed or unarmed. In this case, it was useful for detecting the number of Outcasts that had stormed the building.
But her most impressive pieces of equipment were her grey steel boots, knee-high contraptions that shielded her legs and gave her a devastating kick you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of.
The Sergeant gave the Chief a salute with her empty hand as he made his way over to her. She didn't need to salute him. Technically, she outranked him, by far. However, having worked alongside him against Berk's most dangerous criminals for a year now, she had developed a respect for the man.
"Twenty hostiles." The Sergeant informed the Chief. "They've spread themselves throughout the Tower. Four in the living quarters, two in RnD, three on the production levels, another four in the control centre, and seven on the entrance floor. HE's one of them."
The Chief nodded, and his frown deepened, if that was possible. "He" was a very particular person he never enjoyed dealing with.
He stepped past her toward the Tower, pausing briefly to grab a megaphone held out to him. He stopped a few metres from the doors, and all eyes trained on him as he held up the device, and spoke.
"Alvin Treacher!" he yelled into the megaphone, "You have taken control of DunBroch Tower and taken hostage of its workers and residents! Come out unarmed and state your demands so we can negotiate without violence."
Click. He lowered the device. Silence reigned in the plaza. No one made a move, not the police officers, not the civilians behind them, and apparently not even the Outcasts. They were only barely visible through the glass walls, but none of them made any move to follow the Chief's directions. After a few moments, he held up the megaphone again.
"Alvin! I know you're in there! If you wanted my attention, you've got it! Come out and state your demands!"
Click, and he dropped the device to his side again. Only now did someone move inside the Tower. A man could barely be seen, placing something on the receptionist's desk, before moving to the doors and stepping out.
The doors swivelled open to reveal a man of the Chief's size, complete with a thick, wild black beard to rival the Chief's. But instead of his tactical, government-issued police gear, this man wore a patched and torn vest, jeans and boots under a brown leather jacket. The smirk under the beard was dreadful, marred by ugly yellow teeth that hadn't been brushed in a decade. A gun holder sat at his belt, the illegally-acquired gun itself sitting inside where the man had left it.
Alvin 'The Treacherous' Treacher, leader of the Outcasts, strode out of the doors of DunBroch Tower, and came to a stop at the top of the steps leading into the plaza. He stood relaxed, unfazed as multiple officers raised their guns at him. The air was thick with suspense as Alvin spoke in his gruff, East-London voice.
"Well, Stoick, ol' friend." He greeted without respect, "You wanted me; 'ere I am."
Stoick, the Chief, the only armed officer whose gun wasn't trained on the criminal, handed the megaphone to the Sergeant and addressed the man in front of him.
"Enough of this, Alvin." He said to his old friend, "You already have a sentence of three decades. Stand down now, and you won't get a life sentence."
Alvin chuckled, a terrible sound.
"Y'know what? No." He said, "Y'see there are a hundred an' twen'y people in this Tower, five of 'em the richest family in Berk. One word from me, and there's a bulle' in each one o' their 'eads."
A gasp could be heard, and a number of people in the crowd put a hand over their mouths in horror. The grips of the officers' hands on their guns tightened, and the Sergeant spared a glance at Stoick.
"Y'know," Alvin continued, "It's funny how, after all these years, you still think you can 'help' me. Well guess wha', Stoick. I'm not following your orders any more. You 'aven' been my friend or boss for years."
The Chief of Police himself let out a huff. He'd given Alvin one chance, and he'd blown it.
At least one good thing came from that. The DunBroch's were six strong. One guess as to who was missing.
"What are your demands?" he asked.
"None."
Stoick frowned. "What?"
"Now," Alvin didn't even attempt to explain. "I'm goin' back inside, while you lo' stay ou' here and try not to ge' yourselves killed."
Then he chuckled again.
"Or rather, burnt."
And with that, the leader of the Outcasts returned to the safety of the Tower, even as Stoick yelled his name in irritation.
Then he, and everyone in the plaza, heard the roar.
You see, where most places have hackers, or burglars…
An almost animalistic growl, but combined with the roar of a rocket engine. It was the sound of fire and evil. And everyone in Berk knew what it was.
Every single person's eyes turned to the sky. Every single armed officer aimed their weapons, and the blockaders held their shields up in fear. The civilians in the crowd became frightened, some of them even whimpering in fear.
But the Sergeant and the Chief stood their ground, bold. While almost everyone in the plaza had heard that sound before, these two knew how to keep their fear of it in check. Fear would not get them out of this. The Sergeant retrieved her big gun from her back, and Stoick unclipped his own handgun and held it two-handed. They were ready.
We have…
And then, one officer suddenly turned, pointed his gun at a nearby roof, and shouted in surprise the word that everyone had been thinking:
"DRAGON!"
And at that, all eyes turned to the building, where stood the menacing form of a Dragon. Not a giant lizard, but a man in a red metal suit. The suit was made of plated armour, with dark spines jutting out every piece of it. His head was covered by a helmet, fringed with smaller spikes, and his face was hidden by a dark red visor, only his mouth visible. His boots were clawed, fashioned into weapons, and tubes reached from the back of the suit into the back of each gauntlet, each connecting to a nozzle that glowed bright red.
That was why he was called a Dragon. In essence, he was a fire-breathing monster.
Supervillains.
Down leapt the villain, against a barrage of bullets as the officers opened fire. The bullets did nothing though, burying themselves in the metal armour but not reaching the flesh beneath. He landed heavily in the plaza, cracking the pavement beneath him as nearby officers leapt out of the way. He stood up and growled, and then he brought up and levelled his hands at the plaza, and the police and civilians in it.
A sticky green liquid jetted from his gauntlets, which parked and ignited it mid-air. The thick and sticky fire splashed over the pavement, forcing civilians and officers alike to scramble to the side to avoid getting hit by the horrific substance. People ran left and right, struggling to get out of there. A couple of officers guided them as best they could, but a crowd in a blind panic isn't the easiest thing to control. Luckily most of them were headed out of the plaza anyway.
But as if one Dragon wasn't bad enough, the supervillain wasn't alone here. From the streets leading into the plaza, three more armoured monsters stepped out of the shadows, blocking off the crowd's escape. People screamed and backtracked, herded by the supervillains, who hissed, growled and shrieked almost like animals, the fear tactic working tremendously well.
These are the Dragons. A year ago they started terrorising Berk. Why? No one knows.
And then someone took charge.
"Blockaders!" Stoick bellowed, level-headed, "Form a perimeter around the Tower! Jorgenson, keep the civilians together behind them, and make sure no Outcast tries to get out! Everyone else, with me!"
The officers sprang into action. The barrier was re-formed, shields pointing away from the Tower again, only now shielding the people rather than blocking them. On Captain Jorgenson's yelling, the crowd was moved to the steps, the man in question behind them at the door.
Just as the blockade re-formed, all four dragons opened fire, bursts of flame blasting at the officers. But their shields were fireproof, and the flames harmlessly glanced off of them, keeping the officers, and everyone behind them, from harm.
After a moment the barrage stopped as the Dragons saw they were getting nowhere, and that's when Stoick made his move.
The blockaders stepped aside to let him through. With a roar of his own, he leapt, not bothering with the gun, and slammed a hardened shoulder into the red Dragon's side, sending him tumbling back into the concrete. The others move to turn on him, but timely shots from the Sergeant and the officers behind her kept the Dragons' attentions off of him.
With a growl, the red Dragon stood up, and stormed forward with an arm cocked back, preparing a monster punch. But Stoick was ready, and dodged the blow, before swinging a fist of his own.
The monster and the man traded blows, fists and Kevlar versus red steel and claws. Most people would have broken their bones on the Dragon's armour, but Stoick's gloved hands, hardened and callous by decades of hand-to-hand combat, barely felt a thing as they pelted against the villain's armour. Every strong punch forced him back, giving the monster a hard time. They'd done this dance before, and every time the Chief's experience and training held up against the red monster's ferocity.
That's Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock, Chief of the police force here.
They say that, when he was a rookie, he took down the entire Berserker Crime Ring single-handed. Do I believe it?
The red Dragon's powered armour was strong enough to crush a human being, and Stoick knew it. When the villain swung his arm in an attempt to send him flying, the Chief dodged rather than blocked, letting the gauntlet plunge into the already cracked pavement. With a flat-footed kick, Stoick sent the Dragon tumbling to the ground again.
Angered, he roared and made a lunge for the Chief from all-fours. But Stoick had anticipated this, side-stepped the brute and grabbed his spikes, used his momentum to throw him into a shop wall at the edge of the plaza. The impact cracked the wall, but more importantly it dazed the villain, and the red Dragon collapsed, defeated for the moment. But the Dragons were tough. He'd recover soon.
Stoick rolled his shoulders. They'll see who gets burnt.
Yes I do.
One less bad guy standing, Stoick the Vast turned to survey the scene.
The plaza was on fire. Fuel from the red Dragon's weapon had spilt all over the place, and stray jets from each of them had engulfed the pavement in flames. It was so bright that the early dawn light was drowned out by the orange fire. So far none of it had spread to the steps, where the crowd was, but officers had to dance around it to avoid the Dragons.
Teams of barricaders had broken off from the main wall and had started engaging the remaining three Dragons. The brown Dragon and the green one weren't so easily fooled though, and mostly ignored their attackers and bombarded the barricade. The officers were trying though, and slowly but surely they garnered the Dragons' attentions. Jorgenson was also taking pot-shots from the doors, but his handgun was merely serving as a distraction while officers tried to pull them back.
A blue-armoured one had gotten distracted by a squad far more easily than the other two, and had leapt after them as a second squad tag-teamed her. She was holding her own though, and the officers weren't getting anywhere with taking her down.
The blue Dragon was taller than the average woman. Shorter than the red one perhaps, built more like a harpy than a dragon. Her armour was of a similar design, albeit much sleeker, and polished to a sheen. Her yellow visor stood out against the blue metal, highlighting her hideous face, and her pearly white teeth.
And then the Sergeant moved in to engage. Her big gun levelled at the blue Dragon and she opened fire, taking the Dragon's attention off the officers. The Dragon let out a bird-like shriek and leapt at the Sergeant, only for her to dodge. The blue villain went tumbling into an empty part of the plaza. Quickly, the Sergeant unclipped a grenade from her belt and tossed it at the Dragon. Exploding on impact, the explosion enveloped the Dragon. Her armour was fireproof, as was all of the Dragons' armour, but the shockwave added to her momentum, sending her crashing into the shop wall, not far from the red one.
The no-nonsense woman who looks like a human armoury is Sergeant Calhoun, one of the best Special Forces soldiers in the world. They called her in after the Dragons arrived to help fight them.
A number of officers moved in to detain the two Dragons as best they could, while Calhoun turned from the fight to approach Stoick. She lowered her gun and grabbed her scanner again, pointing it to the sky above the plaza.
"What have we got?" Stoick asked.
"Apart from Nightmare, Nadder, Gronckle and Zippleback, I can't be sure. All this heat's jamming my sensor."
She gave the infernal thing a couple of solid whacks before turning to Stoick.
"But if I had to guess, I'd say that it's only these four this time." She deduced. "They would've all come in at once otherwise."
The Chief nodded, agreeing.
"And The Night Fury?"
"Not so far."
"Good."
"Behind you!"
With a roar, the red Dragon, who Calhoun had spotted, has rose back to his feet, and he looked pissed. She raised her gun and took aim, pelting him with bullets, but he ignored them, fists clenched by his sides.
That's when Stoick realised that the flamethrowers of his gauntlets were glowing, and he grabbed the Sergeant and pulled her back.
"GET CLEAR!"
They ran, dodging out of the way just as the red Dragon unleashed his fire, scorching the pavement once more as he ran after them. He was gaining on them. Just as the flames began to lick at their heels, they jumped to the side and behind an overturned police car at one of the entrances to the plaza. The Dragon didn't back off though, pouring flame at the hunk of metal, melting its front and licking past its hood and boot. They were trapped. [2]
With nowhere to go, Calhoun resorted to her training. As the red Dragon cut off his flame, she ducked out over the overturned hood, firing her handgun at the armoured man, aiming for his head to try and get him to recoil.
But at the same time, the blue villainess had woken, tossed the officers off of her and flown back into the fray, and was moving to join the red one against the two fighters.
But against multiple Dragons, Chief Haddock and Sergeant Calhoun can't fight back alone.
In times like these, they need a little extra help.
"We're pinned down!" Calhoun yelled between ducking and firing. "We need a distraction!"
At that moment, Stoick looked up and spotted movement. Something was moving on top of the buildings surrounding the plaza. A green tint, visible in the fire-light, sneaking around into the optimal position.
For the first time that morning, Stoick almost grinned.
Help had arrived.
Coming to a stop on the nearby apartment block, the green-hooded figure grimaced at the scene below her. She'd seen just as many scenes like this as Stoick had, and she knew the horror that unfolded within them.
She was a young woman, dressed in a hoodie, gauntlets and form-fitting tracksuit pants, all made of green Kevlar, with her feet covered by brown leather boots. A belt was clipped around her waist, on which sat a quiver, filled with plastic-shaft arrows. Her hood was up, hiding most of her head from view, though a few wisps of her flaming red hair still escaped. She was Caucasian, with a small nose and slightly raised cheek bones, and her eyes were sea-green behind her black domino mask.
From her bird's-eye view, she could see how chaotic the scene was below. Not quite the worst she'd seen, but it was certainly bad. A crowd of civilians were sheltering at the door of the Tower, guarded by a barricade and Jorgenson's pot-shots. A few officers were scattered around, either making sure no one else entered the plaza, or actively trying to fight one of the four armoured supervillains currently wreaking havoc. The Chief and the Sergeant were trapped behind an overturned car that was on fire, with the red Dragon overshadowing them and the blue one on her way to join him.
Silently, she raised her green bow and notched an arrow to it. Her eyes trained on the blue Dragon as she came to a stop by the red one. With her sights set on the Dragon's back, the archer let her arrow fly.
The twin-pronged dart flew straight and true, and impacted hard enough to sink into the harpy's armour. In an instant, the villainess seized up and shrieked, spasming as her metal suit conducted electricity from the electroshock arrow directly into her body. She collapsed with a grunt to the pavement, twitching.
Eyes turned to this sudden change in events. The red Dragon was distracted, and the remaining villains and fighting officers saw the sudden fall. No one had yet seen the archer, but when they saw the green rod sticking out of the harpy's back, they knew she was there. And some of the crowd, even some of the officers, started cheering.
The Archress.
The archer nocked more arrows and fired them, one after another, each plunging into a patch of fire burning into the ground. On impact, the bulbous arrowhead of each one of them burst, releasing a splash of water that dampened the fires, putting most of the smaller ones out. Amidst the waterbomb arrows were three more electroshock arrows, each slamming into one of the remaining Dragons, sending them to the ground. The Archress' aim was impeccable, and all three quickly went down.
A vigilante with an incredible aim, courtesy of her enhanced eyesight.
As the archer's posture relaxed, people cheered. Officers moved to each of the downed armours, guns held on them. They couldn't handcuff the monsters; their armour made handcuffs impossible to put on, and they didn't just carry armour-piercing knives. But one officer was running back to what was left of the cars they had come in, to grab the required equipment. A final few, led by Jorgenson, led the oppressed civilians down from the Tower and out of the plaza, getting them away from the Dragons, in case they woke up sooner than they'd like.
In layman's terms…
A final arrow, trailing a metal wire behind it, dove into the metal of the car Stoick and Calhoun had been behind, even as the two of them stood up and watched this take place. Threading the wire through her bow, and hooking the end of the wire over the top of the wall, the woman leapt off the roof, sailing down on the crude zip-line to the plaza. With a kick against the car, she halted her decent, before planting her feet on the concrete and retrieving the arrow. She gave the wire a tug, and it fell from the building, allowing her to slip the whole thing back into her quiver.
She's a superhero.
"Archress!"
Well, technically a superheroine. But whatever.
The woman, the Archress, turned at the approach of the Chief and the Sergeant as they stepped around what was left of the car.
"Chief." she greeted with a nod, in a smooth-sounding, almost electronic, voice, "Sergeant."
"Good timing, Red," Calhoun almost complimented, "Though next time get here BEFORE it all goes to hell."
Calhoun deserved the mock-salute Archress gave her.
"So," she asked, "Apparently we have a hostage situation?"
Stoick nodded grimly.
"There's twenty of them in there." He told her. "They've got the DunBroch's."
"We had a SWAT team ready, before THEY showed up." Calhoun told them, "I'll get them back together."
Stoick and Archress nodded, before the former turned to her.
"I'll go in, make sure they're all right." He said, "I need you out here in case this lot wake up."
"That'll happen soon." She said, "Those arrows didn't have a lot of juice in them."
He grabbed his walkie-talkie off his belt.
"Spitelout?"
"Yep Stoick?" Replied Captain Jorgenson.
"Calhoun's getting the SWAT team ready, then we're going in. Archress says those monsters will be getting up soon. Either make sure they're handcuffed or get everyone away from them. This might go into round 2."
"Copy that, Chief!"
Within minutes, the SWAT team had been re-assembled, Stoick and Calhoun at the lead. They stood on the steps, waiting. They couldn't begin infiltration immediately; Alvin's threat to kill everyone stool stood. If they tried anything, he'd see it. Luckily, the power grid was only one call away.
At that moment, Alvin stood in the control centre, eyes carefully scanning the CCTV screens on each floor, including the ground floor. If anyone tried to escape, anyone tried to get through those doors, anyone betrayed him, as happened on occasion, he'd know. And he wouldn't like it.
His back was turned to the technicians kneeling on the ground, watched by four Outcast thugs with guns in-hand. The bodies of five security guards lay piled in a corner without regard.
Most people would've been surprised when all screens cut out simultaneously, replaced by the black of the dead monitors. The lights followed, turning off and letting the room go black, leaving the surprised Outcasts to flounder in the dark. The only light came from the encroaching sunrise in the windows; what was left of the fires in the plaza were too far down to shine through.
"W-what happened?" a startled rogue stuttered.
"Eh, probably a power cut." Someone surmised. "Stupid Dargons must'a blown somethin'."
But Alvin, being the smarter man he was, knew better.
"No," He disagreed. "Stoick's playin' a game. One that WE'RE gonna win."
A technician shuddered behind them, not that they could see him.
"Now." Stoick ordered, and kicked the doors open.
The eight-strong SWAT team moved in, guns at the ready, equipped with silencers and torches. The four Outcasts on the ground floor reacted, fumbling for their weapons even as silenced bullets pieced their shoulders and legs, disabling them. The officers turned their sights upwards scanning the mezzanine floor above them for the Outcasts they knew were there. [3]
Two spotted. PFFT. PFFT. Two down.
That left twenty-eight floors, thirteen Outcasts, one Alvin and a hundred and twenty hostages to go.
The Archress has been showing up to Dragon Attacks ever since the first one a year ago.
And a good thing too.
Outside, Spitelout had ordered the officer getting the cutting equipment to hurry up, but they seemed to be taking a while. Archress stood watch nearby him, waiting for any sign that the Dragons were waking up.
It had been a few minutes, and Archress knew her arrows would be wearing off by now. She had warned Spitelout, who began ordering those hovering over the villains back to the Tower.
But a few of them had ignored him, holding the blue Dragon down as the woman carrying the case of cutting equipment finally came back.
"Get back here I said!" Spitelout yelled. "Officer Phelma! Stop!"
The blue Dragon shuddered, but the officers barely noticed.
Because against the Dragons, the police need all the help they can get.
A big mistake. As Phelma kneeled down to open the case, the harpy made her move.
Without warning, she twisted around and took aim with her flamethrower, firing at officer Phelma. In an instant, a searing white jet blasted out, engulfing the woman in flames, incinerating her.
"PHELMA!"
Deadly Nadder. She's vain, swift, and strong, and wields a magnesium flamethrower that can turn a person to ash in seconds. She also has a poison-tipped spike launcher in her left gauntlet.
The rest of the arrogant officers high-tailed out of there as fast as they could, reaching the rest of the force as the blue Dragon turned again on the ground. She took aim with her left arm, and with a SLICHT, another officer went down, a 30-centimetre pale yellow spike in his chest.
By now Archress had reacted, drawing a waterbomb arrow and firing. The projectile burst on impact with the harpy's head, forcing her to recoil, giving the officers time to regroup with the force. Nadder didn't take long to recover though, and she continued to advance as the heroine nocked another arrow.
But now the other Dragons were returning to their feet, and Spitelout took action.
"OPEN FIRE!" he yelled, and a hail of bullets rained onto the oncoming Dragons.
But this did little to halt their progress as they bore down upon them. The brown one jumped, swinging a mace-like gauntlet through the air, slamming it to the steps as he landed. With his other arm, he broke a man's legs out from under him, toppling him to the ground. The force scattered, forced to abandon the steps as the brown Dragon ignited the chaos once again.
Meat-lug Gronckle may be small, but he's tough. With his lava gun and twin mace-gauntlets, he's definitely a force to be reckoned with.
Archress' arrow launched at Gronckle instead, drawing his attention. The little menace let out a roar and charged, forcing the woman to retreat as she fired again, this time striking him in the knee. He yelled in pain, quickly ripping the rod from his leg, but when he looked back up the Archress had gone from his sight. Furious, he flicked his right wrist, and it opened up to reveal a nozzle of its own. But unlike those of the other Dragons', when he took aim at the officers running frantically around the plaza, out of the gauntlet came not fire, but lava. A glob of molten rock launched from the nozzle splashing onto the pavement, barely missing one of the running officers.
Archress had backed into the edge of the plaza near the shops, firing arrow after arrow at every one of the Dragons, far enough back to avoid getting noticed. She was doing all she could, but her waterbombs and shockers were nearly depleated, leaving her with just regular arrows. She did have one special arrow remaining, but she was saving that for one particular villain.
From her standpoint, she should've been able to see all four Dragons. But as she watched the chaos unfold, she realised she'd lost track of the green one.
As if on cue, a hissing sound filled her ears, and she turned around to see the two-headed Dragon, his (their?) green armour covered in ash, both faces snickering wildly as a green gas poured from their right gauntlet.
Zippleback, Barf and Belch. Siamese twins. Where other Dragons carry flamethrowers, these guys wield a gas-thrower in one gauntlet, and on the other one they have a spark plug that lights it.
The villain lowered their right gauntlet into the gas, electrodes of the spark plug cutting through the green smoke. Reacting in an instant, Archress leapt out of the way, and just in time as a spark shot from the gauntlet to the gas, igniting it and exploding into a huge fireball. The Zippleback inside the explosion would be unharmed, but Archress was shot back by the shockwave, tumbling into a landing by the steps.
Two heads, twice the danger.
"Archress!"
She looked up, seeing Spitelout standing over her with his hand outstretched. Achingly, she accepted it and let him pull her to her feet, before bow and gun alike turned back to firing at the Dragons, hoping to at least make them fed up enough to leave.
After a few attempts, Spitelout managed to land a shot on the red Dragon's head, on the other side of the plaza. Feeling the impacts, the Dragon turned, spotting Spitelout, and, ignoring the other officers around him, started stomping his way over.
He kept his aim and fired again, only for his gun to click. He reached for his belt, only to find he was out of magazine clips. Looking up at the approaching monster, Spitelout suddenly felt really small.
And then, there is Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best officers go after him;
The biggest of the Dragons advanced, and Spitelout almost backpedalled into Archress as he stepped back. But the monster was faster than him, moving forward to Tower over Spitelout, whose six-foot height was dwarfed by the Monstrous Nightmare. Nightmare turned his wrist, revealing electrodes on it much like Zippleback's, and clicked his wrist back.
He has this… nasty habit of setting himself on fire.
As if his height wasn't enough, in a flash the Nightmare's armour burst into flames, and he roared down at the scared-stiff police Captain below him. The Captain gulp, stumbling back as a burning fist cocked back for a swing.
Just in time, the last of Archress' waterbombs splashed in his face, the cool water running into the grease coating his armour, and the fire died out. Growling, Monstrous Nightmare turned on the archer, even as she reached down to the belt of a fallen officer, and retrieved a spare magazine.
"Reload!" she tossed the clip to the captain, before staring right at the supervillain, defiantly. "I'll take care of this."
And then both warriors rushed forward, Nightmare going for a swing as the Archress went into a skid and slid between his legs. She came to a stop, turned and let an arrow fly into his back, at a weak spot between the shoulder blades. He let out a cry as the head just barely pierce his skin, and turned to re-engage.
But then both fighters stopped, and both heads turned to the sky, when they heard the sound.
But the worst of them all is a Dragon that no one's ever seen.
All at once, every officer and villain in the plaza heard the piercing shriek that filled the sky. A high-pitched siren, getting higher and louder with every passing second. A signal of fear and death.
We call it The—
"NIGHT FURY!"
"GET DOWN!"
The sound was nearly deafening when it all went to hell.
An explosion of glowing blue plasma rocked the plaza, concrete and asphalt blasting into the air as the centre of the square lit up. A few unlucky officers, barely caught in the blast, went flying as the shockwave expanded, ricocheting off the walls of the buildings. They came down, covered in soot and ash. One moaning, barely awake. One unconscious. One dead.
Monstrous Nightmare let out a roar to the sky, and the demon that ruled it. Only for Archress to snap out of her reverie and take advantage of the distraction to plunge her final electroshock arrow into his knee. He jolted and froze, toppling backward to the ground.
But Archress couldn't care less as her eyes watched the still-dark sky, searching for any sign, any glimpse of the last supervillain.
This is what she'd been waiting for.
This villain never steals anything, never shows itself and-
BOOM!
Another explosion ripped the concrete, and the steps that once held a frightened crowd were blasted to bits.
NEVER misses.
The stealth bomber was the most feared of all the Dragons, and in a way it was their leader. Mostly, the fear of the Dragons came from how it'd suddenly fly out of the black night, shrieking, then launch its powerful blast that could level a city block. No matter what horrors the others commited, it was this one that had let them commit such atrocities.
The Archress' eyes narrowed. Someone had to get rid of that thing.
No one has ever taken down The Night Fury. That's why Archress will be the first.
Abandoning the fight, she went into a sprint, leapt up over the rubble that remained of the steps, and burst through the doors of the Tower. Ignoring the groaning, handcuffed Outcasts sat by the opposite wall, she took aim and fired her zipwire arrow high up past the many mezzanine floors of the building, impaling it into the ceiling of the second-highest floor. This time, she swung her bow over her shoulder and out of her quiver pulled a motorised device with two handles. The clipped it to the wire, grabbed its handles and pressed a button with her thumb, and the device climbed up the wire, pulling the Archress up to the highest floors of the tall building.
The SHICHT sound was heard by the SWAT team s they continued climbing, startling most of them and drawing the attentions of Stoick and Calhoun.
The SWAT team had cleared production and RnD without issue, and over a hundred scientists and engineers had been allocated to the main lab for safety. Unsurprisingly, the five DunBroch's in the building weren't among them; they had probably been in the living quarters on the top floor when Alvin attacked.
The group of eight had reached the control level, the last mezzanine floor before the homely residence above. With the power out, the lifts were out of commission, which had forced the team to use the stairs. Most of them had been winded by the climb, but the Sergeant and the Chief were anything but. Calhoun had her scanner out, and was pointing it at the door to the control centre when Archress' arrow plunged into the ceiling.
Looking over the guardrail, the two leads spotted the young heroine rising swiftly along the wire, and the whole group stared as she came to a stop near the top, then swung back and forth before letting go and landing on the mezzanine.
"What are you doing here?" Stoick questioned. "I told you to stay down there!"
"Night Fury."
He sighed. They'd been through this before. "Archress-"
"No arguing!" she belayed, "We're freeing my—the DunBroch's, then I'm going onto that roof and taking it down!"
Without hesitation, Archress ran to one end of the floor and practically flew through the open door into the stairwell.
He huffed. Calhoun smirked at the girl's defiance.
"Stay here and deal with Alvin!" Stoick ordered, running after her.
Calhoun gave a nod, and glanced at the scanner. Only then did she notice that Alvin's signature wasn't in the control centre.
The living floor of DunBroch Tower was, like the floors below, surrounded by glass walls. On either side were two staircases, leading down to the floor below, where the home ended and the facility began. A third spiral staircase, leading to the roof, stood a few metres from the huge window, halfway between the other two. The floor itself was split in two, with a dining room combined with a living room on one side, and a wall with five doors separating it from the bedrooms, each of which had their own separate bathroom.
Archress reached the top of the spiral stairs, and then stopped. An arrow planted itself in her drawstring and she glared at the scene in front of her. Two of the remaining Outcasts stood on either side of the landing, guns pointed at her. And between them stood Alvin the Treacherous himself, one arm locked around a tall, slender woman, with waist-length brown hair that flowed over her nightclothes. If she was afraid, she didn't show it, staring at the woman whose arrow was pointed at her captor.
Then Stoick entered the room, and Alvin's gun was at the woman's head in an instant. The threat was clear: one wrong move, and bang.
Stoick's gun levelled on Alvin, joining the bow. Neither could take the shot without the woman dying. Alvin held all the cards.
Not taking his eyes off his nemesis, the Chief nodded to the woman in greeting, despite the situation.
"Madam Mayor." He addressed.
"Chief Haddock." The Mayor of Berk returned in her Scottish accent, before stiffly greeting the heroine. "Archress."
The girl said nothing.
"Now tha' we got the pleasantries ou' o' the way," Alvin interrupted, smug smirk present. "I suggest you drop your gun, and your bow, and step back out of the room. Preferably right off the edge of the balcony downstairs."
"Stand down Alvin." Stoick countered. "No one else needs to die today."
"Oh, I beg to differ. People die ou' there every day. A bullet, a drug, a fall off a cliff. All it takes is one push."
"Not every day."
"Why did you take the Tower hostage?" Archress questioned, surprisingly calm. "Letting the Dragons do your dirty work is not your style."
"Hmm. Straight to tha poin'." He noted. "But why would I tell you? I ain't the one to give away my plans."
But then he shrugged.
"Though I will say 'his," he said. "'His attack? Wasn' me. All I was 'hired to do was take the Tower."
"Hired?" Stoick questioned, "By who?"
"I dunno." He replied. "'E called 'imself Red Death."
"Since when does 'Alvin the Treacherous' get hired?" Archress asked.
"Wouldn't YOU like to know?"
Suddenly, with a whack, Mayor DunBroch's leg slammed back into Alvin's leg, and he let go of her in surprise. She ducked, as a silenced bullet dug into one Outcast's shoulder, and an arrow in the other's leg. The Mayor dashed to Archress' side as Alvin, seething, found his footing, and then both guns were levelled once more, and Archress' last arrow was retrived.
CLICK! Stoick's gun was empty. And with a glance at the arrow in her hand, Archress realised it was the one she was saving.
But Alvin's gun was loaded and ready.
"GET BEHIND ME!"
Archress and the Mayor ducked behind the Chief as Alvin fired, but Stoick could do nothing but hide his head behind his arm to shield himself as the oncoming bullets tore at him, three blocked by his gauntlet, and one impaling itself in his hand.
As he fired, Alvin backed off, pulling back to the stairway on the other side of the landing. By the time his own gun clicked he was right in front of it, and as Stoick lowered his injured arm and Archress and Mayor DunBroch stood up, they could only spot the back of the Outcast's jacket slipping out of the room.
"He won't get very far." Archress stated. With the SWAT team below and the officers still in the plaza, there was little chance of him making it out without getting caught.
Stoick grunted, not only from the annoyance of letting Alvin escape, but from the pain of his bloodshot hand.
"Chief Haddock?" the Mayor said, concerned, "Are you alright?"
He grunted again, this time in dismissal.
"This is not my first bullet wound." He told her, shaking off the pain. "I'll be fine."
Mayor DunBroch nodded, unconvinced but not pushing the matter.
Then a BOOM rattled the building, the floor shaking slightly as the glass wall lit up with the bright blue explosion. The Archress' eyes flashed to the sight, and she steeled herself.
Without waiting for Stoick or the Mayor, she rushed to the final staircase, and climbed up to the roof. Stoick and the Mayor watched her go, with similar looks of exasperation and annoyance at the young woman's determination.
But Stoick didn't go after her; there were still two Outcasts on this floor, and they had the rest of the DunBroch's. And so he turned to the Mayor.
"Where?"
The Mayor merely pointed to the middle of the five doors, and Stoick, reloading his gun, followed her directions. With a kick, the door opened, and Stoick, spotting one thug hovering over a bound and gagged man by the wall, and another holding a gun to three identical triplets, wasted no time in firing two slugs at the Outcasts in the room. The two thugs fell to the floor, moaning in pain and clutching the bullet wounds in their legs.
The Mayor slipped past the Chief, hurrying over to her husband, the CEO of DunBroch Corp. the man was quite possibly even bigger than Stoick, his wild, unkempt beard and hair a bright orange colour. The CEO sighed at seeing his wife safe, saying her name in relief as she removed his gag, and the moment his arms were free he pulled her into a kiss. The young triplets, miniature versions of their father, recoiled in disgust, but still clambered off the bed and jumped into their parents' arms.
Stoick respectfully turned away from the family moment, hand going for the walkie-talkie.
"Calhoun?" he asked into it.
"Outcasts have been handled, Chief. Apart from Treacher, mission complete."
He lowered the talkie and frowned. They'd saved a lot of lives, but judging by Calhoun's words, Alvin had escaped.
And then there were the supervillains below and above. He mentally wished their vigilante the best of luck.
The Archress slammed the door of the roof open and ran out, peering up at the sky. The sun was close to peeking over the horizon, which meant it wouldn't be long until The Night Fury left. She held up her hand, looking at her special arrow. She only had one, which meant one chance to catch this guy.
Turning around, she jumped, grabbing onto the top of the block that held the stairs, and with her strong arms she pulled herself up. Planting her feet, she rose to a standing on the highest point of the building, nocked her arrow, and waited.
Her eyes scanned the starry sky. The roars and yells from the battle below danced in her ears, but she ignored them. She was looking for the slightest movement, the one sign she of where the stealth Dragon was. Moments passed, and her eyes darted back and forth. She HAD to find it. She had to finish this.
"Come on." She muttered in her true Scottish accent. "Gimme somaen tae shoot at… Gimme somaen tae shoot at…"
And then she saw it. A patch of stars dimmed and vanished in her line of sight, before some returned and more still vanished. The dark patch was moving, far in the distance, just close enough for the archer's extraordinary eyesight to catch. She saw the dark patch turn in her direction, and she began.
Taking a step back, her eyes still focussed on the dark supervillain, she raised her arms and pulled back the bowstring, arrow pointing at her target. Her arrow-hand she pulled back to her cheek, and held there.
The Dragon's form sped up, flying in her direction. She couldn't be sure SHE wasn't its target, but neither did she care. Whatever happened, she needed to take this shot.
The form started moving across the sky, like a dot across a screen. She followed it with her bow, keeping the arrowhead pointed a bit ahead of the dark area, to compensate for its speed. It'd be moving very fast.
Then the shriek kicked in, and a rush of adrenaline flooded through her. Louder and louder, higher and higher, closer and closer. She counted the seconds until it would launch its missile… five… four… three… when it did, so would she.
Two seconds. The Archress breathed in. her lungs flooded with oxygen, and her nerves calmed.
One second. She breathed out, and her muscles relaxed.
BANG! THWIT!
Her fingers relaxed, and the arrow sailed.
Simultaneously, the Dragon unleashed its blue fireball, indeed aimed at the heroine. She reacted, jumping from the concrete block with barely a moment to spare. The fireball exploded, blasting the block to smithereens, and the shockwave tossed her across the roof.
Preoccupied, she was unable to see as her arrow flew with deadly accuracy. At a critical moment, the bulbous arrowhead snapped open, unleashing the silvery rope of a metal bola, spinning in the cool dawn air. Miraculously, it was right on target, and the black Dragon of death was caught in its embrace, the ropes wrapping around it. Entangled, the Dragon was trapped as the EMP also inside the arrow activated.
With a whir, the suit's systems shut down, its engines caput, and the Dragon fell.
Recovering from her fall, the Archress twisted where she lay to see the dark object sail, now spinning, through the air. The suit's whirring caused it to emit an eerie screech. Its momentum kept it flying for hundreds of metres as it fell, before finally crashing into the woods on the north side of the island, just beyond the city.
Down below, all eyes turned to the sound, officers and Dragons alike drawn to it. Seeing the form falling from the sky, the same thought was realised amongst everyone: The Night Fury was down.
The Dragons screeched and roared, feeling fear for the first time as they realised their greatest asset was down. Roaring, they all turned from the fight and jumped, huge thin wings unfolding from their backs, latching onto their arms and holding them in the air. With the waving of their arms, they launched up into the sky and escaped, leaving the cheering officers below.
None of the officers noticed as the Tower doors opened, and Alvin the Treacherous slipped away, smirk planted on the smug criminal's face. With their distraction, no one would notice as one of Berk's greatest threats, besides the Dragons, made his escape.
And up on the roof, the Archress of Berk stood to her feet and watched as the bad guy fell out of sight, defeated.
The Night Fury was down. And by her hand.
A smirk planted across the superheroine's lips. She had won.
NIGHT FURY
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
[1] Remember how there are caves in Berk, as found during 'Dragons: Defenders of Berk'? I only just thought of that idea actually, when I started rewriting the chapter. I had planned the layout of the rest of the island in advance.
[2] The "boot" is what we Australians call the "trunk" of a car. Kinda makes me wonder what you guys would call the front of an elephant…
[3] Also, "Torch" is our word for "flashlight"
Okay, so I turned Spitelout into a police Captain. Well I had to do SOMETHING with him! He's around Stoick's age, so if the Spitelout we know from the TV series was going to be a police officer, he was going o get a fairly high rank, even if he's a little too arrogant to be a Chief.
So, some of you may remember that running gag through the ANs of 'Big Hero Glitch', where I kept commenting on how many words a chapter ended up being? Yeah, well this one is just under 9 thousand! Don't worry, chapters in future will be a LOT shorter than this one. In fact I'm hoping the next one will be merely 3K, but we'll see. If any future chapters of this or any other stories are again 9K, then they'll probably be epic battles with a lot of characters. The reason this one was long I suppose is because it introduces a lot of stuff that's relevant this story, AND lots happens in it.
Please forgive me.
See ya next time, and Aerrow Out!
Next Time: Chapter 1: Meet Hiccup