Apparently here's chapter two. J

Chapter 2: Plot Revealed

"The Shadow Track."

"What?" Moordryd was caught off guard. "The Shadow Track?" Word settled back in his chair with a grim expression on his face as Moordryd's voice rose in pitch. "The Shadow Track?"

"Did I not speak clearly? Yes, the Shadow Track." Word hissed the last part.

"What? Why?"

"Because, as you may have noticed, I have been…observing it. Studying it, if you will." Moordryd had the sense to look ashamed as Word scowled at him. "Learning how it works… and discovering its potential." He spoke the last part in a near whisper, so soft that Moordryd barely heard it. Word obviously had not meant for him to hear, so Moordryd gave no hint that he had.

"Don't you mean worked? It was destroyed." Moordryd smartly asked as Word stayed silent. "How can it help?"

"There is something you must understand, Moordryd." Word now adopted a lecturing tone of voice. "When the Dragon Booster, young Lance Penn, Cain and yourself escaped from the Shadow Track, yes, it was broken. But black shadow draconium is a strange, powerful thing. A mysterious thing. The track was broken, but not destroyed. Even as you left, it started to grow again."

"So the Shadow Track will once again be as it was before?"

"Correct, but I do not know how long it will take until it returns to its former state."

"So it's useless until then."

"No. That is where you are wrong. Again." Moordryd scowled slightly as his father held up a claw to silence any rebuttal he might give. "Touching black shadow draconium traps you in the illusions. The Shadow Track was completely covered in it. But the amount and purity of black shadow draconium in the track varied from place to place. In parts where it was at its lowest gave the weak nightmares. Illusions that are easily confronted and defeated. When you and the others were trapped within, you were lucky enough to touch only the places where it was at its utmost lowest. Indeed, if your dragon, Decepshun, had moved her foot several more feet to the right, she would have touched a vein of draconium so rich and pure, that it would create fantasies so unimaginably horrible, that you would never be able to conquer them." Word paused, waiting for his son's reaction.

Moordryd unknowingly complied. His jaw dropped slightly as he recalled the track, and the lingering danger he never knew. The stuttering and uncertainty in his voice proved it evermore. "How…how do you know all this?"

"Do not question my methods." Word said abruptly. He stood and walked over to the desk and laid his clawed hands on the folder that still rested there. "In places where the draconium was at its purest and most dangerous state, it is growing at an alarming rate. Those places are now fully functional, and can entrap the Dragon Booster with far more dreadful and compelling illusions than before. More compelling by far."

"So what you're saying is, all the black shadow draconium in the Shadow Track is gone at the moment. Except for a few places where it still works?"

"Yes, but these places are few. The majority of the Shadow Track is still inactive. Therefore it may take a bit of searching on your part to trap the Dragon Booster. Once he touches the draconium, it will instantly ensnare him." He balled his claws into a fist, and a gleam of victory entered his eyes.

"Me?" At his son's condescending question, Word's expression turned from one of triumph to one of frustration. "How will I know where the active draconium is? How will I even get in?" Moordryd asked. But what he really wanted to know was, Is there any chance of me getting captured again? Would you care if I got trapped?

"As for the first, I have this." Word pulled a strange gear from his robes. It was a purple and black circle, possessing two long grey handles which stuck out from opposite sides. The screen in the middle glowed an eerie green colour. "This will scan the track and will show you where the working draconium is." He handed the gear over to Moordryd, who took it, illustrating to Word that Moordryd had accepted this mission. Not that he had much of a choice. "I want that gear back if you return." Word added in the last part as a side thought, which answered the rest of Moordryd's questions.

"But…"

"As for the last part, the Shadow Track opens only when the moons are in alignment. This creates a certain gravitational pull that reveals the entrance for a time. This," Word stepped over to a mag-rack, and took off another piece of gear. He turned it around in his hands as feeble light flickered off its polished finish. It was a simple dark purple sphere. "This will open the track by creating an isolated field of…" He stopped and glanced at Moordryd. His son had never been one to understand the workings of any type of gear. He grimaced and simply said, "Well, this will trick the track into opening." He walked over to Moordryd and gave it to him. Moordryd held one gear in each of his hand. He looked from one to the other. Word became impatient and loudly asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Hmm? No." Moordryd said without looking up. Word glared at him.

"This isn't too… difficult is it?" This made Moordryd look up angrily.

"Of course not, father."

"We shall see. We shall see." He repeated as he returned to his chair.

Moordryd looked at the gears again then crossly looked at his father, who was now watching him closely. "What if the Dragon Booster gets out again? What if he defeats his fears? What then?"

"If he is trapped in the Shadow Track, as I've told you before, his fears will be greater than before."

"I know, but…"

"It is unlikely that he will overcome them, but if he does manage this and breaks free, he will find the entrance blocked."

"Now how is that going to ha…"

"Because the side of the cliff is going to fall directly onto the entrance. Even you can plant a few timed bombs." Word stated very slowly. "Now, is all of this too much for you too handle?"

"Never."

"Good. I also want you to bring me back some samples of black shadow draconium."

"What for? Don't you have one?"

"Yes, but it not enough. I need more. Make sure you bring an ample supply." Moordryd started to question this, than thought better of it. Word wouldn't tell him what he needed it for. But it was clear from the papers on his desk that Word was on to something. Moordryd couldn't fathom what, or what the draconium's potential could be. But Word knew. And he was most likely hoping to use it for his war. A war that Moordryd wasn't even certain he wanted to be a part of anymore. But until all this happened, until his true destiny came, he would help his father. He too, wanted to see the Dragon Booster gone forever.

"He'll be trapped before the night is over."

"Make it by four."

"What?"

"I want the Dragon Booster trapped before 4:00. Before the afternoon edition of Dragon City news."

"But I race again at four."

"I'm aware of that."

Moordryd looked at him helplessly. "That only gives me a few hours."

"Then why are you tarrying here?" Word swiveled his chair around to face the monitors. Moordryd backed away slowly. His father didn't turn around, and to Moordryd's relief, didn't discuss the day's race. He was fine with that. Either his father was too disappointed to mention it, or he just didn't care. But still, Moordryd yearned to redeem himself. If he could lock up the Dragon Loser and win the next race, his father was sure to be impressed. He left with a twisted smile on his face. Now to call Cain and deal with what had to be done.

Word turned and watched Moordryd walk out of the citadel. He tapped his fingers together and sat deep in thought. He was sure he could trust Moordryd with this. After all, his son hated the Dragon Booster as much as him. But what would happen after was a complete mystery. Something he could only guess at. This was the last 'quest' his son would go on for him. He couldn't trust him any further. If his plans with the draconium went well, and by well he meant didn't kill him, he wouldn't need his worthless son anymore. It was almost a pity. Moordryd tried so hard to impress him, always trying, never succeeding. It was pathetic as well. Word comforted himself with the fact that soon, he would no longer have that meddling imbecile haunting his every step. Who knew how much information Armaggeddon received from his son. Moordryd had been useful, for a while. He suddenly laughed. His haunted laughter reverberated off the walls and filled the entire citadel. Soon no one would be able to stand in his way.