For All of Dragonkind: Wings of Ash
Chapter 1: A Burning Ambition (The Arrival of Destruction)
The Sun was bright and shining, heating the whole world up with its everyday glory.
The land, wide and expansive and other-worldly, were lit up to wide plains, a random and oversized tree here and there, and rather small animals, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, along with a scattering of rather heavy creatures with a coat of white with blackened splotches for spots, or of chocolate brown, the animals scattered very widely in this place.
But almost none were here.
Almost.
The place felt like it was held under constant fear, yet of great respect, of obedience, of willful submission.
But all will end. All things do. It was inevitable.
He was inevitable.
He always was.
His first presence into the foray that was this universe was announced with a boom, the small critters, birds, squirrels, and all ward off from such a loud sound, their strong yet fragile eardrums not used to such loud sounds.
No, nothing has ever seen a creature like him before.
And so, he will make his existence known.
Yes...
They will know him...
Yes, they will...
The source of the ear-piercing noise was an eight-pointed star that created a fissure in the fabric of reality in the thin air. The grasses blew violently away from such a thing. The bright blue portal led to a seemingly infinite corridor, which seemed to constantly pulsate towards this world.
The gateway, the image of a Sun, its diagonal points longer than the vertical and horizontal ones, was characteristic of only one being in all of existence.
The Traveler.
The one who conjured up such a thing flew through, and yet, he knew where exactly to fall on his own two legs. When he came out of the wormhole, he fell but a foot or two before he perfectly touched down, stance and posture up and ready to face this brave new world.
Brian understood his surroundings as the portal behind him collapsed, shrinking until there was no evidence that it was even there to begin with.
Hmmmmm...
He was on grass, on solid ground, and...
Wait.
The land in front of him...
It sloped upward until it was akin to a viewing point one would see atop a great hill.
Hmmmmm...
Yes...
He would get a great vantage point from atop there.
Yes, he could view this universe in its full glory, and maybe, just maybe, he doesn't see anything related to dragons.
No, they annoy the hell out of him.
They refuse and don't understand anything related to logical reasoning and thought. All the worlds have been like that.
Dragons come to him, see him as inferior, and try to control him, to kill him, or even eat him.
As such, he would snap.
He would kill them all without hesitation, without mercy.
And at the very least, he had every right and reason to do so. They made him angry, irritant, impatient, and, most of all, bitter.
The fact the species both himself and his father Helios belonged to, or, well, some version of it, were all hatched to be ignorant and prideful was something that he accepted long ago, but it drove him over the edge many, many times.
And unfortunately, it seemed like it was evidently a trait shared by all of Dragonkind, his Earth or not.
And he didn't want to choose violence, he really didn't, but how else was he supposed to knock any logic into these dragons? They emerged out of their eggs knowing bloodshed from the start. It was in their blood and his own as well.
And as such, Brian was at the very least a bit grateful that he actually had power from his father's side and the ability to morph into basically anything from his mother Lisa in order to have authority.
And he fought them if he knew that they would see him as a lower creature in any way, and he won.
He always did.
In all twenty-seven years of his life, he has almost never known defeat.
And yet, despite all of that, he remained humble and never let his overwhelming power get to his head.
No, he battled with restrained to unhinged ferocity every single time, no bars held.
And if they ever had the audacity to make him angry, he would show them the might of a thousand suns.
But regardless, he always knew the extent of what he could do.
He was no god, but he had the powers of one.
And with that came great responsibility that was thrusted onto him when he was born.
He's kept to that.
Always.
He just hoped that the day never came when he became so livid that he wanted to destroy the planet he stood on.
No, he wasn't that uncompromising or willing to give in to his deeper, draconic temptations to the extreme.
No, he was nowhere near as horrible as the Slayer, that's for sure.
No, he wasn't.
He wanted diplomacy first, and when they either broke his patience, or showed that their respect didn't consider him as an equal if not higher, he destroyed them without question.
And so, he always held onto the fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to, that perhaps they could walk on the same ground without a bloodbath.
But no. It was almost always the same.
And so, he treated them as such.
Like how they would view him.
As mere dumb animals.
And so far, it's worked.
They were intimidated, terrified, horrified even, shaking in their scales, or, well, fur in some worlds, when he would show them the true meaning of power, of his defiance, of his anger.
And he was angry. He almost always was in a new world, because his faith in Dragonkind, the race he was a part of, would disappoint him. It seemed like it was an inevitability.
But no matter. They would fall all the same. They always did.
It didn't matter if they were of a larger size, could destroy you from within, or cared so little of the world to see the universe as their playground as if they owned it, his ferocity and appetite for their destruction was assured with his ever-burning ambition to kill the wicked.
And so, this world would be no different.
If dragons were here, fine.
If they wanted to so much as control him as if he was some sort of pet or toy, he would make it abundantly obvious where he stood.
On the side of destruction, of one to cause Armageddon, the Cataclysm, the Apocalypse.
Once again, for while he may not be a god, he had the ferocity of one from heavenly lore.
Yes, he will be known, and he will be respected, like a true dragon would.
They will all face him and bow their heads, either to bow in the sheer amount of respect required for a deity in the flesh, as on equal ground, or to look down as his sword cut their heads off in one fell swoop.
For he was inevitable.
Justice always was.
Brian stood his ground, looking around, straightening his spine to gaze more upwards. His eyes darted back and forth as he drank in his surroundings.
A true warrior takes in their entire environment, exploiting all advantages for themselves, and the disadvantages of their enemies.
He was no different.
However, his senses picked up something.
His bright blue eyes gave off a faint ethereal light, his patience being tested.
He felt it.
Them.
Human...
With his aura across everything, he felt the figure, currently slightly up in the air off the ground.
A carriage.
They were in a carriage, a man by what they felt like.
Hmmmm...
Maybe they would have something.
Something of knowledge.
Afterall, one would definitely do anything for the sake of such a treasure, spoken, written, or not.
Besides, he disliked humans as well, always making false promises of peace, of promises to do better, only to fall right back into their old ways if it benefited their selfish desires.
They were like dragons, but it made even less sense. They were meant to have more intelligence as gifted to them, but, like everything else, they made him constantly frustrated.
Why wouldn't he be? They never learned from their mistakes for God sakes! It was always the same.
War. Aftermath. Diplomacy. Politics. War. Aftermath. Diplomacy. Politics. War. Aftermath...
Just...FUCK! WHY!?
When will the universe learn?
Hmmmmm...
Honestly, probably never.
Brian just couldn't accept that.
He could not be the craziest person in the entirety of space and time and yet be the only one sane.
How mind-boggling was that?
A man on the brink of insanity and nihilism, and yet the only one of reason.
Afterall, why fix a universe that never wanted to be fixed to begin with? Why try at all? What was the point in trying? It didn't matter anyways. They would all eat themselves out when they realized it was too late once they destroyed their own planet regardless. It didn't matter. Destruction and Judgement Day was inevitable.
He was inevitable.
He was Judgement Day, and boy, would it be a rude awakening for Humanity and Dragonkind once he shows just how horrible, self-serving, and outright stupid they are once they get on his bad side.
And so, one human gone from this populace was nothing to the blonde. This one would do just fine. Their body will just be tossed into the massive count he already had.
Brian, with his right hand, slid his palm and fingers around his right waist, and felt it.
His card pack.
Those flat images of magic were essentially his bottomless pouch, his endless inventory of either sources of convenience, or his instruments of death and destruction.
Like the back of his hand, he felt one specifically within the back part of his belt, just before his plasma grenades, both hidden under his dark blue cape.
And so, a bright golden flash came out once he touched that one.
With that, Brian held his hands out into empty space, as if he was carrying something long and invisible in front.
It was but a second or two before the flash disappeared and formed in front of him.
Whatever was within that card, warped to his hands, as if he was destined to hold it.
The bright shape eventually dimmed, showcasing his weapon of choice.
It was his enchanted Kar98k, Cataclysmic Armageddon.
It was one of his best sniper rifles. Always fast to rechamber each new round, and always reliable. Sure, he couldn't twist a suppressor on, but that didn't matter, not now.
He wanted to make himself known.
The long firearm was dull and somewhat sandy brown throughout, a part of its iron sights on the end with a high-powered standard visibility scope attached to where one would squint to aim into it.
Truly a work of fine craftsmanship.
It may have been old-fashioned, but in the hands of a warrior, anything could be made into a deadly tool to reap the evil masses.
Brian held the reliable rifle as he walked forward, flattening the grasses with pats of his boots as he went up the slope to the outlook.
Hmmmmmm...
It seemed like this exact place where he entered was perfect for sniping from a position of advantage.
Hmmmmmm...
Yes...It was...
Brian finally made his way to the brown earthy rocky outcropping of the edge, and saw it, them.
It seemed like an old-world carriage and wagon, like one from the Oregon Trail in the United States in the early days of the country. The roof of the carriage had a bright top, likely to shelter supplies like food, a sleeping pack, people even, but he didn't care about that right now.
The one heading it all, on a wooden driving seat, was a man. His skin was rather dark and had rather fluffy and well-kept hair and beard. It honestly looked like they were dipped in chocolate minus their rather plain peach-colored tunic and paints with rather unremarkable leather boots of decent enough make.
He was currently holding the reins to a cow, their coat the color of darkened hazel nuts and horns spouting out from behind their ears.
Hmmmm...
What an idiot.
Making his carriage and himself appear bright as hell.
Perfect to be sniped.
His weapon initially aimed up to his left, he then reoriented himself, aiming his gun. His left hand was on the underside of the barrel and his right flicked off the safety before drifting onto the trigger after brushing over the enchantment symbols carved into the wood. With the butt of the rifle on his shoulder, he then closed his left eye to gain the sight to peer through the circular scope.
It was a simple cross of thin black lines that intersected in the middle, but it would do just fine.
With that, he then moved around until his crosshairs were on the man, Brian crouching with his right leg up and his left on the grasses below. His deathly sight on the human, Brian took his right hand off the trigger to move it up to the side of the scope, feeling and small and indented wheel on its side, the adjustment. He twisted it forwards clockwise, the view of the sniper rifle magnifying on the unsuspecting man. It was rather close on him, his whole body taking up the entire visage within the scope.
With that, all he had to aim.
With his right index finger under the trigger, he was ready.
With those slow movements with the gait of the bovine, Brian went with the movement of the whole wagon, and, with that, the human occupant.
Brian aimed a little bit upwards.
At his head.
This was it.
Brian held his breath while his sights were glued on the human's skull.
And for that, an opportunity was given and was all he needed.
Brian pulled the trigger, without hesitation.
The human never saw anything coming.
With a loud bang that Brian knew from this rifle, the man's head recoiled back as the sniper shell penetrated his cranium with a splash of blood as his gaze went up into the sky, as if looking at where the bone in his head was shredded.
The man let go of the reins and fell off to the right side of the carriage and onto the ground in a light pat, face down in the dirt.
Dead.
It all happened in the span of less than a second, as if it was at the speed of light itself.
Of course, the dead human didn't react at all since he was effectively braindead, but the environment around him was a bit more attentive. The birds flew out from wherever tree they could, their earholes not used to loud booms, leading to loud chirps, caws, and tweets in surprise as they flew aimlessly away. The cow let out a deep and guttural mooing yelp as it jumped up on its hind legs a bit in shock before wanting to run away without its master but couldn't very well due to being stuck to this carriage.
It was as if all hell broke loose for them.
And, in a way, it did.
Smoke rose from the muzzle of the Kar98k as Brian took his gaze out from the scope and opened his left eye. Brian then took his right hand and lifted it towards himself and onto the curved metal lever on the rifle's side. He then pushed it over the top before pulling it back.
A singular shell, freed of its lead-filled contents, flew out to the right, drifting in the airwaves until it silently touched down on the grass, its purpose fulfilled.
Brian once again lowered and slid his hand on his right backside. A small, almost unnoticeable flash later, and Brian had a sniper bullet in his hand, casing and all. He held it gingerly as he gripped it, bringing it up to the sniper's open top from the pulled bolt action, and pushed it in.
With that, Brian did the opposite as he did before, taking the lever with his right hand and pushing it forwards to rechamber before sliding it over its side to its place on its right once more, primed and ready for another shot.
With nothing else to shoot down, Brian lowered his weapon. He stood up on his own two feet once again.
And with that, he briefly squatted before he jumped off from his vantage point, long golden hair flowing in the wind with his cape and necklaces, his trusty rifle held with his right hand as his left leg pointed, ready to make contact with the ground.
Right in front of the carriage.
Once he touched the grass with his darkened and rather metallic boots, the cow tried to get away, only to struggle more and more as Brian approached it, seeing the blonde as an apex predator.
And, in some ways, he was.
He fought and slain many dragons of all shapes and sizes, regardless of what diabolical trick they would have tucked up in their wings.
But...still...
This bovine was going mad with fear as all of their efforts were all for naught.
Like Dragonkind when facing him.
Was Brian sad for it?
Hmmmmm...
Honestly, he didn't know.
But no, he couldn't have any noise scrapping against his ears and causing a headache with its ruckus.
And so, he walked slowly over to it as it tried to get itself out, only to not realize that it was all a futile effort.
Brian went around to its right side, slung his rifle with its pale beige strap, and, without hesitation, pointed his right hand at the animal's head, index and middle fingers forward, the rest of the appendages curled, and palm facing the man's left.
And with that, he shot.
The cow didn't even notice it after the less audible bang of condensed light in a bolt pieced its cranium, the animal falling instantly with a collapse of its legs and eyes staring out from its skull, forever cross-eyed. Smoke appeared in a hole effortlessly burrowed in by the projectile, blackness inside from instant cauterization.
As light smoke came off of Brian's two gloved fingers, he relinquished the hand formation back to his side as he casually walked around the dead beast as he went over to his prize.
The human.
While he may not have anything on his dirt-kissing corpse, it was at least worth a try.
Afterall, if he didn't get what he wanted here, there was likely no shortage of humans to find and kill for what he was looking for.
With light pats of his boots on the ground, he came to the right side of the man's body.
With that, he bent down, reaching into a dark brown burlap and hide-enforced pouch on his back. He swiftly unclasped the hardened material holding its contents in with his dexterous hands, and flipped it open, revealing a rolled up medium-sized rolled up paper of a light wand worn brown.
He took his right hand on an unrolled part on its side edge, and, as he brought it up, flicked his wrist to get it partially open, grabbing the other side of it.
And once he did...
Oh...
Brian's gaze immediately furrowed with slight scorn with some slight annoyance as he peered at the paper.
It was a map.
And what he saw both left him with not only no surprise at all whatsoever, but also left him in somewhat of a sour mood.
The map in question...
Oh God...
Fuck me...
The map was a gigantic continent, surrounded by ocean.
And Christ Almighty, was everything else about it was going make him rather painfully irritated and left questioning if God or Bahamut was really just joking with him.
Why?
The continent was shaped like a dragon, facing the left.
A dragon.
A fucking dragon.
It all seemed to be framed in red ink on the border of the whole thing, with a compass in the top right, with the usual North, East, South, and West.
Never Eat Soggy Waffles.
Oh, and look, there were words written in each part denoting nests!
Oh boooooyyyyyyy! Here we gooooooooo!
Alright! Let's play ball!
Because by Christ was he was going to need whatever hope he had left for at least a few minutes.
Alright! Let's begin with contestant number one!
From the head, which was white until the start of the neck, likely due to being made up of frigid wastes, was the words...
Ice Dragon Nest.
Wow.
'Ice dragons'.
Wow guys, how creative...
The neck and belly down, along with an excuse for a foreleg with how stubby it was, was all drab yellow, presumably a desert, and right in the middle of it was...
Sand Dragon Nest.
There was also an image of a scorpion a bit down more and slight to the East, which said Scorpion Den.
Really? Now we have scorpions that were probably the size of a God-damn house.
Story of my life...
What a way to waste time on useless fodder.
Whatever...
On the underbelly part to the East was several livelier light green bumps, denoting mountains with the name...
Jade Mountain.
Oh? An actual place without being a nest of some annoyance or four-legged winged reptilian beast of little intelligence?
By God, what were the odds?
Ugh...
Whatever. It's probably a mine or some shit.
Above it, in the mountains, was a tiny black circle.
Hmmmmm...
A cave likely.
In words just over was...
Valor.
Valor?
Valor what?
There was no such thing as valor in a place of dragons. Even an imbecile would know that.
Whatever.
In a more...greener place was a drawing of a tiny little castle a bit diagonally down to the East once more on the other side of the mountain range.
The Indestructible City.
'Indestructible City' my ass! I bet I could tear the place apart with my damn eyes closed! Like pulling a tablecloth from under a bunch of pots and pans!
How can a place like this exist with fucking dragons? Here of all places?
God-dammit...
Even more down in the Southeast, where several archipelagos came out from the south like some excuse of rear legs.
They looked more like crab legs more than anything else.
Ah hell...
He thought that whatever joker drew up with this shit would at least try to make a place that resembles a dragon actually make it look like one, but this was just fucking ridiculous, like, really, God-damn.
Just at the base of this dragon continent's ass was an even greener portion with a fat and irregular shape of the emerald color.
Forests of some type.
The kind became obvious with another label.
Rainforest Dragon Nest.
Great! Just great! Another dragon race to massacre and waste his time!
But...'rainforest dragons'? Really?
Well, at least he could give props for this joker's creativity, which was evidently through the roof.
That was, if the idiotic beasts themselves were in fact different.
To the Northeast, just at the base of the tiny and pathetic tail was another name.
Oh goodie...
It was called Safe Harbor.
What a horrible name.
Nothing is safe with those heathens flying and crawling around. Anybody with a brain would be able to know that!
God...
Oh, it gets betteeeeeeeeerrrrrrr!
Directly to the North, where the tail fragmented into several tiny islands and where the broken appendage was curled up, was another name.
Water Dragon Nest.
Yeah, come on, let's get on the shore together, maybe have a few laughs with a beach ball or two!
Bitch, I could freeze your veins before you could so much as blink.
Back to the body, over the base of the tail and just touching the spine was a big patch of muddy brown without any trees or anything of the like, and it said...
Mud Dragon Nest.
Oh...
Well...
To be honest, they got him there.
A muddy brown place with 'mud dragons'?
Took the words right out of my mouth.
How fitting.
A shitty disgusting place just over a giant dragon continent's ass where shitty dragons probably bathed in, you guessed it, shit.
Fuck...
Up the continent's back towards more of the North rather than the Northwest was blue body of water in the edge, called...
Diamond Spray Delta.
Oh?
And right above was the Diamond Spray River.
Really.
A swampy delta that was just above where the filthy monsters lived.
Of course.
Talk about ludicrous.
Situated in a rather decently sized bundle of trees in one of the tributaries a little to the West, just to the East of the mountain range that zipped up vertically through here was name for a settlement rather than a nesting place for the winged assholes.
Talisman.
'Talisman'?
Why yes, 'The Talisman' was a decent song off of 'Final Frontier'.
That was a rough album.
Oof...
Dear God.
He was as blank-faced as ever and actually thought that he was slowly going insane.
Oh, right. Moving on.
Or out! Sike!
No, no, let's maintain some seriousness.
That's right, he hated everything here! That's right! Dragons! God-damn dragons!
Fuck me...
I think I might have really fell off.
To the far North, in the middle of its 'wings', a hefty forest with a grey area, likely of stone, was the last of these God-forsaken places where the dumb cocksuckers lived.
Sky Dragon Nest.
'Sky dragons'?
Would they not be afraid of lightning? No?
Whatever. It was their funeral. The dragons here were probably as smart as a few bags of rocks.
And finally, above it all was a singular word.
It was the name of this divine joke in all of Dragonkind's existence.
No, scratch that, of all of time and space.
And by God, he hoped there wasn't another one of these stupid and hellish places.
Brian lowered the map as he brought his face up from it.
Brian eyes and mouth were straight, blank, emotionless, stony, and, above all else, he had an incredibly unimpressed face.
Now who the hell came up with this crappy map?
Oh, wow guys, a place that is shaped like a dragon with a bunch of dragon nests literally everywhere!
I wonder if there'll be dragons here?
Oh? There are dragons here?
Oh boy! What a shock!
Fuck off.
Brian held the urge to face palm with how ridiculous and outright terrible this all was.
Great.
Just fucking great.
There were more dragons who would try to eat him and his face off, shit him out, and then just go on fucking other dragons.
Or, better yet, fuck all the mountains!
GO PAINT THE PLACE FUCKING WHITE!
...
...
...
...
...
Dear God.
Everything was going into a downward spiral.
This whole universe was.
Why...Why did God and Bahamut do this to him?
Draw him to other worlds searching for who knows what?
And why here?
Why a place full of the beasts he's grown to despise?
No, of course he didn't know.
He was forced to run in circles, like a dog forever chasing its tail.
Go to place. Kill dragons. Get confused as to why he was there. Lose sight of purpose being there. Leave. Go to place. Kill dragons...
Over and over and over and over...
All the roaring and roaring and roaring, and the spouting of dumb, brainless propaganda about being superior to everybody else.
Because yeah, that'll reeeeeaaaaally pound into someone's head that dragons were better, when it was anything but true.
Humans and dragons were meant to be equals.
Why...
Why was he even here?
Just to suffer?
Again and again and again with witnessing the moronic hubris and ego of scaled lizards and evolved walking apes?
And he swore to God...
If there was a war here...
Ohhhhhhhhh boy...
He was going to go crazy.
He may already be insane, but he could be coaxed into going deeper into the rabbit hole.
And before he went crazy, he would have to get angry.
And nobody would want to see him angry.
Never.
And he would not hesitate.
Never hesitate to destroy everything.
Everything.
If the worst possibilities came to fruition, then he would show them the might of several supernovas.
They will all know him, and he will teach them in the old-fashioned way that he was their god that demanded to be obeyed with respect.
With violence.
Brutal, unyielding, unbiased, unstopping, excessive violence.
Yes, he would be that crazy if the worst came to be.
Brian let go of the paper with his right hand, leading the map to fall loose as his left arm relaxed with it still in his hand's grasp.
The blonde lifted his right hand and drew it towards himself, his elbow bending as he slipped his fingers and palm into the collar of his dark blue tunic.
He fished around a bunch before he finally found it.
His blank journal.
Each new universe required knowledge to truly understand, and not even Brian with his high-powered memory could remember everything.
He took it out and walked towards the seat of the wagon.
It wasn't the best desk, but who the hell cared. He certainly didn't.
And so, with his left hand, he brought up the map with a wavy sound, and set it down flat on it, his right hand placing the dark-blue leather-bound hardcover blank book down, its second and third pages open.
With his left hand flat palm down on the white paper to prevent the pages from flipping from the wind, the man bent his arm again as he dove his right hand for something else.
Then, when he finally felt it, he brought out a capped and sharp No. 2 pencil of an orange coloration. Placing his fist down with the writing tool in trapped in his fingers, he grabbed the cap with his left and dropped it on the worn wooden surface.
Then, he started drawing.
Brian liked drawing.
He was surprisingly good at it, what with the lines, shades, and even capabilities of drawing real, actual portraits of people.
And besides, being alone and confused as to what your purpose was for pretty much all of your existence would get some creative juices running.
That, and, well, other hobbies, including piano, singing, guitar, music, video games, chemistry, reading, writing, yada, yada, yada.
It was a good ten minutes of just hanging out there, copying the map to the last minute detail across the two mediums. Even after a few mistakes that he promptly erased, it was pretty much a one-to-one replica of the original.
And so, with his job done, Brian took the cap and placed it on the tip of the pencil and left it in the crease as he swiftly closed it.
The journal in his right hand, he deposited it into his collar and, with a flash, his rifle, now no longer needed, disappeared from his shoulder, his powers activating the card's capturing ability from within.
He took the map with left hand, and with no effort, set it on fire.
Blue flames appeared on where he lightly gripped it before he casually dropped it, the man no longer needing it as he walked on by and forwards, into a wide set of plains with a few of those overly sized trees.
He started to walk of the wild grasses, uncaring of consequences.
For he was justice.
He always was.
As he walked slowly and with a bit of an angle every now and then, he straightened up, his hands on his hips as he saw the blank image of several Moons in the sky, three in fact, all a fair distance from one another.
Then, he spoke.
It was a warning.
It was an omen.
It was truth.
It was oncoming death and destruction.
He was death and destruction.
"So Pyrrhia, let's just see how fast you burn."
With a flash, he brought something out.
It materialized in his hands and on his belt as he was lifting his flat hands towards the sides of his head.
It was a black set of headphones, their cups stretched away from his skull as he closed in on his ears.
And on his belt?
His digital portable music player.
And the song?
'Feet Don't Fail Me - Queens of the Stone Age'.
Brian simply let go of the headphones when they were close enough to his head, feeling silence.
Until a twang.
Of the electric guitar.
The start of the intro.
With that, Brian was set.
Without further ado, he shifted his body to face the right while his head faced the left.
Once in the position, he heard the droning in the song, either synthesized horns or some distorted version of the guitar. Probably the latter.
Then, metallic holes that were once curled and spiraled closed open on his metallic boots, on the right of both, just above where the feet were.
And so, his rocket boots had burning plasma, once confined, unleashed.
In an instant, a blazing blue fire came out from the openings on the boots with some sparks.
And, like the advent of the first drums and actual guitars on the song into the main riff, Brian was off.
Like he was on a skateboard, he was propelled, the sheer power of the boots' jets causing him to slide across the ground, leaving a blackened trail.
Brian, with the sudden change in momentum, angled and adjusted his body to not stumble.
And so, at a decent pace, he boosted across the ground like a hover, or, well, sliding on ice with actual friction.
It was like he was surfing on the ground with the power of the future in his possession.
After some time, he decided to make a jump to turn to the other side.
With some light bending of his legs, he hopped up and twisted his body one-hundred-eighty degrees counterclockwise.
The jets on the other side of the boots opened, leading to a continues drift as his feet touched down. The openings on the right side closed.
Head now facing right with his body towards the left, he saw an open expanse of just grass, as tree or two to his right and left.
Holding his flowing cape with his left hand, he activated the boosters on the bottoms of his boots.
And so, as such, he jumped, like an eagle in the wind.
Like a true dragon.
A massive burst of blue plasma came out as he angled his legs forward as he flew in the air, his golden hair in the wind as he flew with style and grace of an ambitious angel of destruction.
He would face them all.
He would face them all like a true dragon.
Yes...
Hello new world.
Judgement Day is coming.