A bird of lightning tore across the sky. Quetzalcoatlus. The lightning bird swept through their formation, thunder cracking in its wake. Azura banked hard left, but the shockwave caught her wing. She tumbled, spinning through the air as Clive gripped her scales.

  "Scatter!" Sion shouted.

  The dragons broke formation. Ignis roared, breathing a column of fire at the lightning construct. The flames engulfed Quetzalcoatlus in an inferno, scattering it into individual lightning bolts that dispersed in all directions before coalescing back into form.

  "Regroup!" Miranda shouted. "Delta formation!"

  The dragons responded instantly. Verdant dove low, Emberwing climbed high, Nightwing strafed left. Within seconds they'd formed a triangle around the lightning construct, trapping it in a three-dimensional cage.

  [Delta Strike]

  They attacked as one. Fire from above, razor leaves from below, ice breath from the side. The coordinated assault hammered Quetzalcoatlus from three directions simultaneously. The lightning bird shrieked, beginning to destabilize. Its form flickered.

  "It's working!" Yarra called out. "One more—"

  A slice in the air cut her off. A black line appeared in the sky behind Quetzalcoatlus, spreading like a wound in reality.

  The coordinated attack faltered. Emberwing pulled up sharply. Verdant banked away. The triangle formation dissolved as the dragons reacted to this new threat.

  A figured emerged from the darkness. A black knight riding on a dreadsteed of shadows. Smoke poured from its nostrils in steady streams. Its hooves struck empty air as it galloped in the air.

  The Black Knight sat motionless for a moment, surveying the battlefield. Then his hand moved to the sword at his side.

  He raised it overhead. “My black blade shall tear the world asunder.”

  [Rend]

  He slashed horizontally.

  Space sundered. The cut spread, growing a tear in the fabric of the world. Wind screamed through the opening, pulling everything toward it.

  "Break left!" Miranda shouted, but her drake was already being dragged toward the rift. She wrestled with her mount.

  Clive felt Azura fighting against the pull. The wind tore at his clothes. His paintbrush nearly flew from his hand.

  Below, the enemy formation collapsed into chaos. Some grabbed at their allies. Others threw themselves flat, trying to reduce their profile. One soldier lost his grip on his pike. He screamed as his feet left the ground. Then he was gone. Sucked into the rift.

  Another followed. Then three more. Their screams dopplered into silence as they vanished into the nothing-space.

  Then Prince Sion laughed, even amidst the storm.

  "Vandiel grows desperate," Sion called out. He stood up in his saddle, balancing perfectly despite Ignis's struggling flight. "To send out the Black Knight so early!" "They must be terrified!"

  "Your Highness, we need to—" Miranda started.

  Sion stepped off Ignis. For a moment, he stood suspended in the sky, one foot still raised as if he’d simply paused mid-stride. The wind from the spatial rift tore at his cloak. His golden hair whipped back. But his eyes were locked onto the Black Knight below him.

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  Then gravity remembered him.

  Sion dropped. His hand flashed to his back, drawing his spear in one smooth motion. The weapon ignited, golden flames erupting along the shaft. He inverted mid-fall, bringing the spear down in a two-handed grip.

  [Dragon Dive]

  "YOUR HIGHNESS!" Yarra screamed.

  But Sion was already gone, closing the distance to the Black Knight in less than a second.

  The two figures collided midair in an explosion of light and shadow. Sion's spear met the Black Knight's blade. They exchanged blows so fast Clive could barely track them—thrust, parry, slash, counterslash. Each impact sent ripples through the air.

  Around them, the winds were intensifying. The rift the Black Knight had opened was still growing, and Quetzalcoatlus was circling back for another pass.

  "We can't maintain altitude!" Guma shouted. His drake's wings beat furiously, but they were losing height. The turbulence was too severe.

  "Descend!" Miranda commanded. "Controlled descent, now!"

  The dragons dropped, fighting to maintain control as they fell. Fifty feet above the ground, the dragons leveled off. They hovered, wings beating hard just to hold position.

  This close to the ground, he could see the enemy forces clearly. They'd stopped fighting. Soldiers stared up at the sky. Some were backing away. Others dropped their weapons and ran.

  Another lightning bolt split the sky. Clive barely reacted in time. “Down!” he shouted.

  Azura swerved right, dropping into a sharp dive. The lightning bolt passed so close, the static made his hair stand on end.But Azura's turn was too sharp. The sudden change in direction while fighting the spatial rift's pull—

  Clive's grip slipped, and he fell to the ground with a hard smack. Pain exploded through his right side. He rolled, momentum carrying him across packed dirt, unable to stop. Dust filled his mouth, his eyes.

  "Clive!" Lucia's voice, distant and panicked.

  He tried to respond. Couldn't. His diaphragm was locked up, spasming.

  The dust began to settle.

  A figure stood ten feet away. Lightning coalesced into form, electricity weaving together like threads on a loom. In the span of a heartbeat, the Thunder God stepped out of the bolt.

  Sayid. He stood on empty air six inches above the ground, arms crossed, looking down at Clive. He smiled. “Artist. How nice of you to come. I’ve been waiting for you.” He uncrossed his arms. Lightning began to dance between his fingers.

  Clive's hand went to his paintbrush. But Sayid shrugged.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Do that rubber trick again.”

  Clive's mind raced. The last time round, rubber had made Clive invulnerable to Sayid’s attacks. And he was just… telling Clive to use it again?

  This was absolutely a trap. But what choice did he have?

  Behind Sayid, the other Dragon Knights were trying to close in. Azura dove, only to be driven back lightning. Lucia shouted something, but the wind tore her words away. They couldn't reach him.

  It was just Clive. Alone.

  "I'm waiting," Sayid said condescendingly, "Mind hurrying up? I haven’t got all day. Plenty of San Diorans to slay."

  Clive's jaw clenched. Fine. If Sayid wanted a demonstration, he'd get one. He flipped open his sketchbook.

  [Draw: Rubber Vest]

  "There we go." Sayid strolled forward. "I must confess, Artist, you've given me quite the puzzle these past weeks. This 'rubber' of yours. Remarkable material. Truly. Do you know how long I spent trying to understand it?"

  Clive's hand tightened on his paintbrush, but he remained silent.

  "Days," Sayid continued. "I've thrown lightning at many things in my long existence. Stone splits. Metal melts. Flesh burns. But your rubber? Stubborn as a mule."

  Sayid fired a bolt of lightning at Clive, but the rubber insulation held.

  "No matter how much power I channel into it, it refuses to conduct…” Sayid drew his sword, and electricity began to spiral down its length. "But you see, every substance has a weakness," Sayid said. The temperature around him began to rise. "Every defense can be broken if you understand its nature."

  The metal started to glow. Heat rolled off the blade.

  "Your rubber is strong against the storm," Sayid said softly. "But heat?" The blade grew brighter, the glow intensifying. "Heat makes it weep. Makes it run like wax from a candle. Makes it forget everything it was and become something... softer."

  He leveled the glowing blade at Clive's chest.

  "Would you like a demonstration?"

  Sayid dissolved into lightning and reformed in front of Clive. Clive tried to dodge. Too slow. The superheated edge kissed his chest. The rubber vest melted into thick, black sludge. And beneath the liquefied rubber, his shirt ignited. Clive screamed. He stumbled backward, hands slapping at the flames, but the melted rubber clung to his skin like pitch.

  Another bolt of lightning hit Clive. This time, without the protection of rubber, the current flowed through him.

  Every muscle in Clive's body locked up. He hit the ground, convulsing.

  "There," he said pleasantly. "Now we're ready." He lowered the sword until the tip rested against the ground beside Clive's head. "Last time was practice. This time, I know your tricks. This time, there's no escape."

  He lifted the blade, lightning coiling around it once more. "Time for round three, Artist."