04-02-2016, 03:49 PM
Gildarts paused a moment, and extended his steely hand outward, onto the young ninja’s shoulder. With this gesture, that of a friend open to console with, it also acted as a passing of courage. The Prime had nothing to fear, or so it seemed, in Nekui’s eyes, for when he looked up at the strong man who stood so boldly upright, there could not have been anything less than limitless confidence streaming through him. Though slightly on the stoic side, Gildarts offered the apprentice a smile as the Prime looked him in the eyes like an equal.
“I want you to be able to go home and look after your village when all this is over, because they will need you. You can provide support, even from the trees, it will make this battle easier.” Gil’s words were a decent summary, and in them, subtle strategy, for the Prime above-all-else, valued the treasure that was held within every aspiring youth.
Suddenly, the ninja felt a flourishing of hope sprout wings and fly off into the future where his freshly shattered hopes seemed to have once been stored. It returned to him now. Nekui could not wipe the admiration from his face, and Gildarts was either too oblivious, wrapped up in their current endeavor, or too full of honor to let even an epidemic of veneration inflate his head.
Whompt saw this little exchange and found himself scoffing, first out of amusement, then at the fact that he might have done the same in another scenario. The orc’s gruff voice broke the silence, and freed Gildarts from the enwrapping expression of the youth, “Come on, we haven’ got all night.”
Black night flooded over every crevice that they looked, the moon had set, and there was nothing illuminating their path, save Whompt’s uncanny sense of sight. It didn’t need to flow off anyone’s tongue, for it was on each of their minds that the creature of their nightmares had delved into the body -or brain, for that matter- of the T-Rex. Nekui followed the path created by the two leaders swiftly, and without trace of his presence marked by any amount of sound. Neither Gildarts nor Whompt looked back to see if the lad was still there. Instead, their eyes were set forward, Gildarts found him fist balled together, his white fingers clutched in anguish. He had felt a surge of power explode within him, and he was fighting to keep it down.
Whompt too, noticed the disquiet in the Prime’s demeanor, and grunted his concern, “Y’right there?”
But by the sound of it, they were almost upon the location of the mighty carnivore. Immense thrashing and crashing of the branches could be heard shaking the mere air of the night. Brilliant crackling, louder than any thunder Gildarts had ever heard before, roared from high above and radiated outward over them. Waves of the creature’s immense, ear-shattering screech collided with that of the heft of its step, and the seemingly endless domino of trees from the beast’s rampage.
With newly adjusted eyes, Gildarts could see through the dark. And what he saw in the beast, caused his eyes to widen still with revelation. The beast’s eyes were lit with a torturous red flare, as if enflamed from within. Of course, the rest of the pale green monster towered over them, and the stalks of many trees, most of which had been torn down in the T-Rex’s wake. What Gildarts saw, through the darkness, as his eyes fell on the creature, was himself.
Gildarts saw the explosion in Camelot. He saw the destruction, the senseless devastation, the lack of muse in the Rex’s eyes. Not that the dinosaur had any idea it’s body was being used as a puppet, vengeance for the simple crime of boredom that had gone on for too long. Gildarts wasn’t sure how he knew, but he had the vague sense that there was another desire fueling the Rex’s bout of unending rage. Some thirst for power that would not be quenched by the means of a creature that was simply stumbled upon, and weighing its feasible size, had been chosen simply for show.
That which had invaded the dinosaur had its own problem. The beast was too tame. There had been no challenge, because the emotions of that of an animal or monster, were not complex enough to serve as anything the orgosynth would view as victory. This took the fun out of the invasion’s success, so in the monster’s form, two as one, they released their primitive wrath all around them.
“RRRRRRRAAAAAGHHHH!” The T-Rex roared, sounding almost as though it could form words of its own.
“May the gods have mercy...” the young ninja muttered to himself. It did not reach the ears of the two more experienced fighters, for now, their stances had turned to that of chiseled stone. Bodies with only rippling muscle and pure steel could be seen rushing forward, they were actually going toward that terrible beast. They left the apprentice in the dust, who now blinked the plume away from his eyes, and after a moment, aided by his experienced stealth training, the last of him was erased with a single gust of invisible movement.
...
With all the commotion, Gildarts nearly forgot about the sack he had balanced evenly over his shoulder. Within this sack, was Piqui. He wouldn’t need her odd powers of serenity to soothe his own, not for a battle that was looking more like a blood thirsty war, on both sides. The orc was already going in with his axe held high and blazing, ready to hammer through the thick ankles of the beast’s legs.
Whompt’s speed was quick, and he didn’t bother to look over his shoulder looking for his comrade, this told Gildarts, that the orc usually worked alone. There was no time to be wasted, and Gildarts made haste as he set down the bag with Piqui and said, “Stay here, be safe.”
Following those words were the fast trod of a quickened pace, urgency in his stride as he too made his way toward the monster that brought only annihilation to those who fell prey to it.
The monster known as The Malefactor.
Gildarts executed his speed and was launched into the night, leaving Piqui alone and shivering as her ears popped out of the bag curiously and her nose raised to the air. It didn’t take long for her cat eyes to slice through the darkness and see the glory of the beast the two primes would be facing alone. It was who knew how many times their height, and already Whompt had been slapped aside by it’s tail and his spine met the stalk of a very hard pine tree.
The orc clenched his teeth as the bolt of pain struck his entire body and his two tusks shook along with his head as the tornado of dizzy disorder dissipated from his eyes. He was brought back to the reality, no matter how bleak. Gildarts on the other hand was facing this beast in the same way he faced many of his challenges, sheer force, a little wit, and a whole lot of luck. Gildarts had known where to aim his first blow, and the well-delivered punch at the ankle had thrown the towering beast off balance. The Prime was quick to avoid the sweeping motion of it’s tail, which had thrown his comrade in arms off to the side.
The beast’s tremendous weight could have stomped the life out of Gildarts then and there, the punch was no more than a splinter to the great tyrannosaurus, who had thick, reptilian scales to protect him from blows such as this. Gildarts found his keen eyes looking at all the different pressure points that would be fatal to the beast. Most would be upward, one on the stomach, one in the chest of the torso, ribs, enabling an arm would be a good idea, though they were small and didn’t seem to have much use to the beast. Then there were the jaws. Massive, immense, jaws.
The colossal maw of the monster had spiking teeth so large not all of the creature’s scaly lips could fully cover them. These fangs were nearly the size of him. Gildarts made no effort to go anywhere near them, and decided that the shots closer to the beast’s head would have to wait until he was wounded or immobilized. All these predictions, the pinpoints of the creature’s weakness, had been done before the legendary Prime could even blink. Gildarts was good at that, seeing the weakness in people, and perhaps in himself. It was this that helped him hone his own skills through the many years he had lived, fought, and tested himself. That was what made him such a formidable fighter, not what seemed like sheer force, but how he appraised the enemy for the best shot. It didn’t hurt, having a well-rounded set of skills, either.
As though the movement was nothing to the craggily heap of scales and bones, its gigantic head swooped down from above. With the little light Gildarts did have, he easily saw the sharp silhouette of doom descend on him. It was as though a shadowed hand, garnished with varied spikes, with length akin to a tall blazing fire. The wizard was startled by the swiftness in the creature’s motion, and only by a fraction of an inch did the jaws manage to miss him. A part of his flowing black cloak was torn off, and the beast, though he had small snake-like nostrils, caught a whiff of Gildarts and blew out some steam in fiery disgust. The shred of black fabric remained wedged between the teeth, representing what would have been if Gildarts had not acted quickly.
In the creature’s small, glinting eyes, there was intelligence. A voice that spoke through the reptile’s colossal head. A voice of faulted reason. At least, however, the thing could taste the truth, the orgosynth knew what it was dealing with now, and summarized to his host’s body, “Ah, so there are two of them...”
”Blood, blood...” the T-Rex thought in a frenzy as the predacious beast was so keen on finding its prey this way. It was laden with the musty scent of the orc, where was he, anyway?
Whompt had used Gildarts near decapitation as a distraction, and used it to wham his axe right into the base of the giant’s ancient spine. It was almost like he was getting revenge on the body part that had overwhelmed and defeated him, but that was last round, this time, the orc had swung with monumental force, and nearly chopped the entire thing off.
A ferocious roar of rage and agony bellowed into the air, Gildarts had to stop and cover his ears, for the force of sound would have shattered his eardrums. Meanwhile Whompt, who had notably smaller ears, carried on as though he was cutting lumber. Blood splattered and coated the orc, who paid no mind to the fresh scent in the air, nor the taste of the splashes that landed in his mouth. In Whompt’s eyes, he had seen weakness, and taken his shot. Gildarts wanted to look out for his ally, so he did not have any more deaths on his hands and noticed the T-Rex was already swooping around toward the pain, however his jaws were no longer that of a predator hunting, instead, they were that of a beast that knew only war.
...
“Watch out!” Gildarts warned the second the creature’s loud howl had ceased, and not a moment too soon. Whompt was mid-swing when his axe came up into the fossil’s nose and the jaws, bigger than a room of a large house came down and nearly surrounded the orc. Somehow, Whompt had evaded the jaws of death, but the axe had not been so lucky. The sickly dinosaur chomped down like it was a toothpick, and no more could be seen of the axe or the mighty blade’s vanished handle.
“I ca’ look out for m’self,” the orc grunted, his words said one thing and spoke from pride, but his eyes said another. They had reunited on the far side of the beast, but reflected that they must look something like ants from his birds’ eye view.
“He can’t see us from this angle, but he can smell us,” Gildarts thought out loud. Then with the slight of his amber eye, Gildarts caught sight of the down pouring of blood from Whompt’s shoulder. The white of Gil’s eyes burst with new life, perhaps even a modest concern for the orc, “Can you still fight?”
“ ‘Tis but a scratch,” the orc muttered, and more or less meant it, spoken from a warrior’s pride or not. Gildarts made note of this, who was he to doubt the orc’s will or conviction. Gildarts too, would have laid down his life for his cause. Whompt seemed the same, and yet slightly different in motive, but a fighter was a fighter. The wizard saw the slow dribble of black blood onto the ground. Already they were in bad shape, Gildarts could no longer rely on the orc for aid, instead, now he had to consider looking out for double his weight. This burden, heavier than his own life, always hung over Gildarts, which might be why the wizard usually went off alone, a nomad of adventure and harbinger of peace via his own war.
Gildarts now had to end it quickly. Now, because of the sad state of his comrade in arms. There would be no telling the orc to hit the bench, or recover. He knew his limits, it was now Gildarts’s responsibility, to decide who would live and who would die. The T-Rex at the price of his own neck, or his friend. Gildarts didn’t like these decisions, and frankly preferred not to even exercise the thought of doubt, for that was the core of all fear...
“Decisions... decisions...” Gildarts thought he heard a whisper in his ears, and instead found that the dinosaur’s eyes had met his own. The reptilian’s head had cocked to the side, and if the anachronistic beast were able, Gildarts would have sworn he saw a sly smile slither up on those broad jaws.
It was in that coy slip that lead Gildarts to believe that the antediluvian creature had spoken to him. Its eyes were laughing in triumph now, and before Gildarts could make a move, the mighty monster swung it’s still-attached tail over at Whompt, who was creeping around the back, this time, the fresh scent of blood was too detectible to be missed by the dinosaur’s radar, and the injured orc was batted back as easy as a well-pitched ball.
Where he went, Gildarts could not see, only that it was far, especially in the scape of things. A crinkle now firmed around the reptile’s eyes as it swung is enormous head back in Gildarts direction, who had moved closer to made an attack, yet had stopped at the increasing threat of those gaping jaws.
“What ever iss the matter...?” the snakelike sound of the sustaining "s" rattled in the Prime’s ears.
Whatever it was, it was speaking to him.
Gildarts recalled, due to the serpentine expression in the beast’s eye, a man he had once met. One who spoke in lies and had the illusions to prove them, to the eyes that were unwilling to see. Illusions could be the most volatile thing in a fight, Gildarts thought about what the young ninja had said ‘he suddenly went mad...’ what if Gildarts... had already been under it’s spell?
Amber eyes traced the outline of the enormous enemy. It was taller than the stars, or just about, and dawn was soon approaching. Nothing of his surroundings told of a mirage, but every lie was believable, if the seer saw what he was looking for and nothing more. There were no seams, however, to this well-crafted reality, bet that Omni’s quality of craftsmanship, or that of his new foe. The thing that worried Gildarts the most, was the all too corrosive thought of, What if I am already possessed?
...
Would he even know it? Would he ever be able to face it? Would his eyes still see what his fists were destroying? If this were the case, there would be few able to bring him down. Gildarts’ body had spent years facing the most capable of foes before arriving here. Now, it could be him demolishing the young ninja’s village, or worse, some stray route had taken him back to Ambrosia, an the carefully placed veil of illusion that he himself were fighting a colossal-sized dragon, with no wings.
He could control his fists, or at least he thought he could. This could have been a hallucination too. The doubt rattled him, and stirred the broken cage that kept his power in and sealed away. If it was an illusion, but he had control of his fists, there would be purpose to lower them. Yet, Gildarts relied on his gut now, and it told him to simply keep on fighting.
It was rarely wrong.
“OI, GILDARTS! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” his ears recognized the familiar tune of the ninja’s voice and the fire of determination in the prime ignited fiercer than any titan-sized challenge that the extinct could pose. Gildarts felt his willpower rekindled and it took him a single moment for his steel fist to collide with the tyrannosaurus rex’s massive nose.
The bone was as hard as stone, which generally shattered when Gildarts applied enough crash magic and pressure, but next moment, the dinosaur had not even uttered pain, instead, the Prime saw the long trickle of blood streaming from its nose. Shards of bone had mangled and contorted the amphibian’s once shapely face. The underlying skull had been broken, but not crushed. This was Gildarts chance to exterminate the threat in front of him.
The Gildarts felt his right arm tense with magic, and soon his feet were moving to deliver the explosion of light into the monstrous beast. One snap from the dragon’s maw and that was all it would take... Gildarts couldn’t help but feel the chill of where his current missing appendages made contact with his skin. It was the same. Nearly everything. Except this time, he would win.
Several punches exploded on the green, slimy scales of the T-rex, however they were aimed low, in order to dodge the maw of the great beast. The blows were imprecise on the sturdy creature’s base, and they had little effect on him. Gildarts, however, was now panting, and he felt a layer of fatigue tracing shadows along the corners of his eyes.
Heavy breaths heaved from his gauss wrapped diaphragm, yet his muscles were strong and held him upright, though the fatigue tempted his mind to sway.
“Getting.... Tired?” the voice slithered in his ear...
Gildarts smirked, as though fatigue were just another challenge for the Prime to overcome. The dinosaur was overconfident, or rather, the malefactor inside him. Gildarts would use that to his advantage, after all, a good strategy was the best way to bring down a beast of such modest size. He couldn’t shake the feeling though that it seemed to want to toy with the Prime, rather than deliver decisive blows as he had to the orc. But there was the possibility that the orgosynth within had sensed the man’s magic, and kept his slight distance while the creature itself derived a plan for the best course of action.
Suddenly, another bombardment of fist met raw scale, and Gildarts slammed his blows into the flank and ribs of the reptile. Quite literally, he had knocked the wind out of the beast. However, instead of characteristically thrashing with its tremendous jaws, stomping with its earth-shattering feet, or swinging it’s sweeping tail to knock down a forrest of trees, the beast grew violently unchained.
Its master had let it off its leash, it seemed, and the tyrannosaurus rex was screeching in pain. The fresh blaze on Gildarts’ eardrums made him wince in pain, yet he had other things to worry about than his eardrums bursting. An enormous, condescending foot was coming at him from above, the beast’s jaws snarled on the other side, and on the side which Gildarts could have escaped, he was cornered by the massive scaly tail.
The Prime’s expression greased to that of certainty. His eyes fell on the parts he would have to be careful when maneuvering through. A lapse of judgement and it would be over, but Gildarts had little time to think about losing his life. Instantly he as flung forward, away from the step of the monster’s heavy gait. Next, he would dodge the jaws, with a loud SNAP! Gildarts could feel the chill of fate on the back of his neck. Freshly sharped blades, a guillotine meant for him, his beheading had been evaded once more. Lastly, the steamrolling onset of an immense wave of thick flesh. It came at him, but Gildarts’ strategy told him to brace himself.
The Prime readied a punch into the tail, and the two forces collided, steel for steel. A shockwave of energy burst all around the Prime and the remnants of the stray streaks of energy shot out into the air, their locations, unknown. The tail of the beast was nearly broken, yet even in its deadweight it had girth. Gildarts’ body was sent into helplessly into the air. He was flung in the direction of a rather large rock, which cracked with giant crevices on his impact.
Pebbles from above clattered on the bridge of his nose, rousing him awake. He felt the heavy steps of a stampede coming in his direction, but Gildarts was still seeing stars. The man’s steely body, with sheer sinew rippling with every crevice, now felt like the rock behind him. Shattered. Broken. Immovable.
“Gah...” the prime could not even tear his arms away from the place they had fallen, like they had been meshed with the same stone that riddled his body with the unending strikes of pain.
Eyelids, weighed like curtains until he ripped them from the dark. He reasoned to himself If I do not move, I will die, and if I fall here, there will be far too many consequences. It was like that of a domino, a single man, then a village, then an entire verse would fall to the destruction of a single tyrant. This creature should not be allowed to live. If only, if only his body would allow him to fight.
“NO!” the ninja appeared, valiantly in front of him. Apparently, he had been throwing ninja stars all along, yet, on a creature this size, the twigs of metal would only stick out from the first layer of his skin. A ninja verses a giant reptile was not a good match, for one was meant for stealth, and the other, sheer and utter force. Yet still, they faced.
“Don’t worry Gildarts, I won’t let this thing get you,” the ninja’s powers of observation were keen, for he had seen, when Gildarts had been unable to flex even the tip of his finger, the slow, labored breaths of his lungs rising and falling, “You nearly nicked it back there, and I commend you for this fight, but now, it is my turn, to defeat the monster that murdered my master and destroyed my home.”
The dragon-sized monster was already upon him, and it towered over the ninja, clothed in black, with the dark silhouette of an immense skyscraper, reducing the threat the secondary posed to that of a pea. Still the boy had fight, and executed a few of the moves he had mastered, as well as the courage given to him by the same man he was defending.
Clouds of smoke would have no effect on a beast that saw better with his nose, so Nekui simply pulled out his katanas and in an instant, they were lit with a curious blue flame. With a few slashing blows, the scales of the beast resembled butter, and gashes soon opened where the flash of blade met with the shimmer of green scales.
It wasn’t long, however, that the boy grew tired. With each blow, there was an equal amount of weariness delivered to the ninja. It was apparent that the attack was taking a lot of out him, and soon enough the boy lost the only thing that was keeping him alive, speed. The fatigue of a single human against the unending resources of a giant was something that was damned near impossible to overcome. If that of the orc and the wizard had barely lasted a few rounds with the beast, it was only courage and blind rage that had given the ninja the hopeful chance that he would be the one to deliver the killing blow to the monster and slice open its neck.
Gildarts had willed his eyes open. The rock had formed an arch around where he had landed, and he was nearly smothered by the stone, which was growing up and around him. A curious happenstance, that the Prime had fallen on a stone that had regenerative powers, but now, it looked like he would grow into the wall of stone, and his voice cracked as he applied the pressure to ask for aid. No, his eyes told him the boy had nearly been chomped to death a second ago, it looked like Gildarts would have to face this threat solo.
The rock had nearly devoured him, creeping up like quicksand, filling in and solidifying in crevices in its congealing sedentary form. The weight of rock coiling against his legs, arms, and diaphragm made it harder for him to breathe than the fatigue that weighed in his bones.
The Fairtytail wizard’s faith was wavering, again and again he willed himself to be stronger than the rock that was now zapping his energy, whatever reserves he had had left, it was almost like the last had been sucked up for the giant boulder to grow where it was broken.
Clenching muscles and veins popped out of place, struggled against the limits of bone and the sheer density of the stone made it nearly impossible for him to carry on. He coaxed himself, “Come on..” but he had not even the energy to complete the words. With a grimace, Gildarts concluded that this was nearly the end. He could not move, his joints were immobile, and soon enough whether it was the pressure of stone that wrapped around his ribs like an anaconda, or the final sealing up of stone around his mouth, sooner rather than later, he would take his final breath.
Sooner, it seemed, that the ribs around his lungs were snapping like twigs. Crack! Crrrack! Gildarts was not only engulfed in rock, but now consumed by the pain. It was torture, for he heard the breaking of his bones, felt the twist of his lungs around the mangled shards of bone, before he felt the sharp stabbing of pain pierce every thought and every memory he had held onto that was good. All of this, and he could not even scream.
He was being eaten alive, and was helpless to emancipate himself. He, Gildarts Clive of Fairytail, had fallen once more to the throes caused by that of a dragon. How was it, that the bitterness of fate could be so cruel? The Prime, had no idea, and instead, the snap of his ribs fought his ability to think. He would soon lose his ability to breathe, and that, would be the end.
“No.” he told himself. But that was not enough. He himself, no matter how much rebellion he could muster to wage within himself, would never be enough to overthrow the deliverer of death.
...
“Help!” a voice squeaked.
“Where’s Gildarts?” the ninja asked to the the kitten, Gildarts, remembered now, Piqui, that beautiful little cat had been over the ninja’s shoulder when the boy came in to save Gildarts’ life. Both of them would be killed. Murdered. Slaughtered by the monster he had not had the strength to defeat.
“Gildarts, help!” Piqui squeaked again, Gildarts could not see it from the dark shroud of his Vitruvian sized cave, but he could imagine the two youths helpless below the chomping jaws of death.
Gildarts found he had two options. He could give up, he could tell them, “I cannot, I am not able to fight any more,” with the little strength he had left, that which he had been using to retaliate against the slow agony that came with his body’s fragmented destruction. Or he could do the easier of the two, and used the only thing he had left to fight with. He would convert the very blood in his body to liquid magic. And if that wasn’t possible? It didn’t matter, he’d be dead anyway, so why not try?
Boiling water heated his veins, and may as well have melted the blood vessels used to deliver oxygen to his muscles. The fight came to him once more, the whims of agony that his shattering ribs had caused him were nothing to him now. Instead of small splinters of anguish, something more akin to misery swamped his body in a massive upheaval of magic. Energy pulsed in his ears, and his eyes became slants of red. Gildarts felt his haunches move, his skin combatting the rock around him, and winning.
Magic pored from every part of him, including the steel appendages he called his left hand and foot. It took no time at all for the ‘detonator’ button to be pushed, Gildarts saw his body burst with light, and suddenly, there was a crackle of rock. The man eating stone was no more than shards and atoms, flung into the sky and dissipating into sand. Now however, even the ground broke around him, crash magic as flung everywhere, and well, it was a bit out of control.
The T-Rex had been reduced to primitive once more, and it did not acknowledge the man’s puny magic as a threat until it was too late. The ninja had been holding onto the dinosaur’s back, gripping his ninja stars that had once been thrown as thorns into the giant’s massive scales. On the boy’s back, Piqui was slung, cradled by Gildarts’ sack from the home he had known before. The archaic beast roared and attempted to shake them off once more, yet, he could not reach, for they were well located, and the function of the dinosaur’s tail had been nearly cut off, assuring that if the ninja held on -though at the cost of his own, bloodstained hands- the two would survive in the last crevice that the monster could not reach.
When the ninja and the cat’s eyes saw that the man emerge from the litter of pebbled rock, was unmistakably Gildarts, they sighed a breath of relief, though they still found themselves swaying with the beast’s jolting movements. “Gildarts!” both sang in chorus, but he could not hear them, because the roar of crash magic was laced in his blood, and continuously pounding in his ears.
“Uh-uh-oh..” Piqui muttered to herself, as though she had a vague sense, told by instinct, of the Gildarts they were looking at, for she could only partly distinguish that he was not entirely in control.
His eyes were blinded by red shards of light, mirroring the fierce shape of rhombus-shaped diamonds. Suddenly, it was Gildarts who did not see the very people he had come back from the dead to protect, and Gildarts threw a mighty punch into the dinosaur’s torso, pushing the beast from his legs and onto its scaly back. With a loud crash as he had fallen into the protruding stump of a large tree, it was almost ironic, had the ninja not nearly met the same fate.
They jumped from their perch, certain that the large stake wedged in the ancient fossil would be enough to keep it down. However, it was a primitive beast, not persuaded by pain, nor reason, for it could not see the large protruding gash in the side of it’s back, not did it have any knowledge that it was this wound that had punctured its lung.
Wheezing, curt breaths came from the vicious beast, meanwhile Gildarts body was swelling with power, though both knew it was only short-lived. The T-Rex got to his feet, and Gildarts let it, the power he felt already in his boiling blood spoke of chaos and rage, he felt the crash magic coursing through him, as it wished to consume him and do what it did best. Destruction.
However there were still shards of humanity left in him in the swirl of thickening madness. And though, Gildarts was but a hair away from the abyss that could never be returned from, a warrior always knew who his enemy was. This time, it was the monster, and though he could not see the others with his tunneled vision, he hoped they would have gotten out of the way by now, for his fists were moving on their own, and could not be stopped.
“I want you to be able to go home and look after your village when all this is over, because they will need you. You can provide support, even from the trees, it will make this battle easier.” Gil’s words were a decent summary, and in them, subtle strategy, for the Prime above-all-else, valued the treasure that was held within every aspiring youth.
Suddenly, the ninja felt a flourishing of hope sprout wings and fly off into the future where his freshly shattered hopes seemed to have once been stored. It returned to him now. Nekui could not wipe the admiration from his face, and Gildarts was either too oblivious, wrapped up in their current endeavor, or too full of honor to let even an epidemic of veneration inflate his head.
Whompt saw this little exchange and found himself scoffing, first out of amusement, then at the fact that he might have done the same in another scenario. The orc’s gruff voice broke the silence, and freed Gildarts from the enwrapping expression of the youth, “Come on, we haven’ got all night.”
Black night flooded over every crevice that they looked, the moon had set, and there was nothing illuminating their path, save Whompt’s uncanny sense of sight. It didn’t need to flow off anyone’s tongue, for it was on each of their minds that the creature of their nightmares had delved into the body -or brain, for that matter- of the T-Rex. Nekui followed the path created by the two leaders swiftly, and without trace of his presence marked by any amount of sound. Neither Gildarts nor Whompt looked back to see if the lad was still there. Instead, their eyes were set forward, Gildarts found him fist balled together, his white fingers clutched in anguish. He had felt a surge of power explode within him, and he was fighting to keep it down.
Whompt too, noticed the disquiet in the Prime’s demeanor, and grunted his concern, “Y’right there?”
But by the sound of it, they were almost upon the location of the mighty carnivore. Immense thrashing and crashing of the branches could be heard shaking the mere air of the night. Brilliant crackling, louder than any thunder Gildarts had ever heard before, roared from high above and radiated outward over them. Waves of the creature’s immense, ear-shattering screech collided with that of the heft of its step, and the seemingly endless domino of trees from the beast’s rampage.
With newly adjusted eyes, Gildarts could see through the dark. And what he saw in the beast, caused his eyes to widen still with revelation. The beast’s eyes were lit with a torturous red flare, as if enflamed from within. Of course, the rest of the pale green monster towered over them, and the stalks of many trees, most of which had been torn down in the T-Rex’s wake. What Gildarts saw, through the darkness, as his eyes fell on the creature, was himself.
Gildarts saw the explosion in Camelot. He saw the destruction, the senseless devastation, the lack of muse in the Rex’s eyes. Not that the dinosaur had any idea it’s body was being used as a puppet, vengeance for the simple crime of boredom that had gone on for too long. Gildarts wasn’t sure how he knew, but he had the vague sense that there was another desire fueling the Rex’s bout of unending rage. Some thirst for power that would not be quenched by the means of a creature that was simply stumbled upon, and weighing its feasible size, had been chosen simply for show.
That which had invaded the dinosaur had its own problem. The beast was too tame. There had been no challenge, because the emotions of that of an animal or monster, were not complex enough to serve as anything the orgosynth would view as victory. This took the fun out of the invasion’s success, so in the monster’s form, two as one, they released their primitive wrath all around them.
“RRRRRRRAAAAAGHHHH!” The T-Rex roared, sounding almost as though it could form words of its own.
“May the gods have mercy...” the young ninja muttered to himself. It did not reach the ears of the two more experienced fighters, for now, their stances had turned to that of chiseled stone. Bodies with only rippling muscle and pure steel could be seen rushing forward, they were actually going toward that terrible beast. They left the apprentice in the dust, who now blinked the plume away from his eyes, and after a moment, aided by his experienced stealth training, the last of him was erased with a single gust of invisible movement.
...
With all the commotion, Gildarts nearly forgot about the sack he had balanced evenly over his shoulder. Within this sack, was Piqui. He wouldn’t need her odd powers of serenity to soothe his own, not for a battle that was looking more like a blood thirsty war, on both sides. The orc was already going in with his axe held high and blazing, ready to hammer through the thick ankles of the beast’s legs.
Whompt’s speed was quick, and he didn’t bother to look over his shoulder looking for his comrade, this told Gildarts, that the orc usually worked alone. There was no time to be wasted, and Gildarts made haste as he set down the bag with Piqui and said, “Stay here, be safe.”
Following those words were the fast trod of a quickened pace, urgency in his stride as he too made his way toward the monster that brought only annihilation to those who fell prey to it.
The monster known as The Malefactor.
Gildarts executed his speed and was launched into the night, leaving Piqui alone and shivering as her ears popped out of the bag curiously and her nose raised to the air. It didn’t take long for her cat eyes to slice through the darkness and see the glory of the beast the two primes would be facing alone. It was who knew how many times their height, and already Whompt had been slapped aside by it’s tail and his spine met the stalk of a very hard pine tree.
The orc clenched his teeth as the bolt of pain struck his entire body and his two tusks shook along with his head as the tornado of dizzy disorder dissipated from his eyes. He was brought back to the reality, no matter how bleak. Gildarts on the other hand was facing this beast in the same way he faced many of his challenges, sheer force, a little wit, and a whole lot of luck. Gildarts had known where to aim his first blow, and the well-delivered punch at the ankle had thrown the towering beast off balance. The Prime was quick to avoid the sweeping motion of it’s tail, which had thrown his comrade in arms off to the side.
The beast’s tremendous weight could have stomped the life out of Gildarts then and there, the punch was no more than a splinter to the great tyrannosaurus, who had thick, reptilian scales to protect him from blows such as this. Gildarts found his keen eyes looking at all the different pressure points that would be fatal to the beast. Most would be upward, one on the stomach, one in the chest of the torso, ribs, enabling an arm would be a good idea, though they were small and didn’t seem to have much use to the beast. Then there were the jaws. Massive, immense, jaws.
The colossal maw of the monster had spiking teeth so large not all of the creature’s scaly lips could fully cover them. These fangs were nearly the size of him. Gildarts made no effort to go anywhere near them, and decided that the shots closer to the beast’s head would have to wait until he was wounded or immobilized. All these predictions, the pinpoints of the creature’s weakness, had been done before the legendary Prime could even blink. Gildarts was good at that, seeing the weakness in people, and perhaps in himself. It was this that helped him hone his own skills through the many years he had lived, fought, and tested himself. That was what made him such a formidable fighter, not what seemed like sheer force, but how he appraised the enemy for the best shot. It didn’t hurt, having a well-rounded set of skills, either.
As though the movement was nothing to the craggily heap of scales and bones, its gigantic head swooped down from above. With the little light Gildarts did have, he easily saw the sharp silhouette of doom descend on him. It was as though a shadowed hand, garnished with varied spikes, with length akin to a tall blazing fire. The wizard was startled by the swiftness in the creature’s motion, and only by a fraction of an inch did the jaws manage to miss him. A part of his flowing black cloak was torn off, and the beast, though he had small snake-like nostrils, caught a whiff of Gildarts and blew out some steam in fiery disgust. The shred of black fabric remained wedged between the teeth, representing what would have been if Gildarts had not acted quickly.
In the creature’s small, glinting eyes, there was intelligence. A voice that spoke through the reptile’s colossal head. A voice of faulted reason. At least, however, the thing could taste the truth, the orgosynth knew what it was dealing with now, and summarized to his host’s body, “Ah, so there are two of them...”
”Blood, blood...” the T-Rex thought in a frenzy as the predacious beast was so keen on finding its prey this way. It was laden with the musty scent of the orc, where was he, anyway?
Whompt had used Gildarts near decapitation as a distraction, and used it to wham his axe right into the base of the giant’s ancient spine. It was almost like he was getting revenge on the body part that had overwhelmed and defeated him, but that was last round, this time, the orc had swung with monumental force, and nearly chopped the entire thing off.
A ferocious roar of rage and agony bellowed into the air, Gildarts had to stop and cover his ears, for the force of sound would have shattered his eardrums. Meanwhile Whompt, who had notably smaller ears, carried on as though he was cutting lumber. Blood splattered and coated the orc, who paid no mind to the fresh scent in the air, nor the taste of the splashes that landed in his mouth. In Whompt’s eyes, he had seen weakness, and taken his shot. Gildarts wanted to look out for his ally, so he did not have any more deaths on his hands and noticed the T-Rex was already swooping around toward the pain, however his jaws were no longer that of a predator hunting, instead, they were that of a beast that knew only war.
...
“Watch out!” Gildarts warned the second the creature’s loud howl had ceased, and not a moment too soon. Whompt was mid-swing when his axe came up into the fossil’s nose and the jaws, bigger than a room of a large house came down and nearly surrounded the orc. Somehow, Whompt had evaded the jaws of death, but the axe had not been so lucky. The sickly dinosaur chomped down like it was a toothpick, and no more could be seen of the axe or the mighty blade’s vanished handle.
“I ca’ look out for m’self,” the orc grunted, his words said one thing and spoke from pride, but his eyes said another. They had reunited on the far side of the beast, but reflected that they must look something like ants from his birds’ eye view.
“He can’t see us from this angle, but he can smell us,” Gildarts thought out loud. Then with the slight of his amber eye, Gildarts caught sight of the down pouring of blood from Whompt’s shoulder. The white of Gil’s eyes burst with new life, perhaps even a modest concern for the orc, “Can you still fight?”
“ ‘Tis but a scratch,” the orc muttered, and more or less meant it, spoken from a warrior’s pride or not. Gildarts made note of this, who was he to doubt the orc’s will or conviction. Gildarts too, would have laid down his life for his cause. Whompt seemed the same, and yet slightly different in motive, but a fighter was a fighter. The wizard saw the slow dribble of black blood onto the ground. Already they were in bad shape, Gildarts could no longer rely on the orc for aid, instead, now he had to consider looking out for double his weight. This burden, heavier than his own life, always hung over Gildarts, which might be why the wizard usually went off alone, a nomad of adventure and harbinger of peace via his own war.
Gildarts now had to end it quickly. Now, because of the sad state of his comrade in arms. There would be no telling the orc to hit the bench, or recover. He knew his limits, it was now Gildarts’s responsibility, to decide who would live and who would die. The T-Rex at the price of his own neck, or his friend. Gildarts didn’t like these decisions, and frankly preferred not to even exercise the thought of doubt, for that was the core of all fear...
“Decisions... decisions...” Gildarts thought he heard a whisper in his ears, and instead found that the dinosaur’s eyes had met his own. The reptilian’s head had cocked to the side, and if the anachronistic beast were able, Gildarts would have sworn he saw a sly smile slither up on those broad jaws.
It was in that coy slip that lead Gildarts to believe that the antediluvian creature had spoken to him. Its eyes were laughing in triumph now, and before Gildarts could make a move, the mighty monster swung it’s still-attached tail over at Whompt, who was creeping around the back, this time, the fresh scent of blood was too detectible to be missed by the dinosaur’s radar, and the injured orc was batted back as easy as a well-pitched ball.
Where he went, Gildarts could not see, only that it was far, especially in the scape of things. A crinkle now firmed around the reptile’s eyes as it swung is enormous head back in Gildarts direction, who had moved closer to made an attack, yet had stopped at the increasing threat of those gaping jaws.
“What ever iss the matter...?” the snakelike sound of the sustaining "s" rattled in the Prime’s ears.
Whatever it was, it was speaking to him.
Gildarts recalled, due to the serpentine expression in the beast’s eye, a man he had once met. One who spoke in lies and had the illusions to prove them, to the eyes that were unwilling to see. Illusions could be the most volatile thing in a fight, Gildarts thought about what the young ninja had said ‘he suddenly went mad...’ what if Gildarts... had already been under it’s spell?
Amber eyes traced the outline of the enormous enemy. It was taller than the stars, or just about, and dawn was soon approaching. Nothing of his surroundings told of a mirage, but every lie was believable, if the seer saw what he was looking for and nothing more. There were no seams, however, to this well-crafted reality, bet that Omni’s quality of craftsmanship, or that of his new foe. The thing that worried Gildarts the most, was the all too corrosive thought of, What if I am already possessed?
...
Would he even know it? Would he ever be able to face it? Would his eyes still see what his fists were destroying? If this were the case, there would be few able to bring him down. Gildarts’ body had spent years facing the most capable of foes before arriving here. Now, it could be him demolishing the young ninja’s village, or worse, some stray route had taken him back to Ambrosia, an the carefully placed veil of illusion that he himself were fighting a colossal-sized dragon, with no wings.
He could control his fists, or at least he thought he could. This could have been a hallucination too. The doubt rattled him, and stirred the broken cage that kept his power in and sealed away. If it was an illusion, but he had control of his fists, there would be purpose to lower them. Yet, Gildarts relied on his gut now, and it told him to simply keep on fighting.
It was rarely wrong.
“OI, GILDARTS! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” his ears recognized the familiar tune of the ninja’s voice and the fire of determination in the prime ignited fiercer than any titan-sized challenge that the extinct could pose. Gildarts felt his willpower rekindled and it took him a single moment for his steel fist to collide with the tyrannosaurus rex’s massive nose.
The bone was as hard as stone, which generally shattered when Gildarts applied enough crash magic and pressure, but next moment, the dinosaur had not even uttered pain, instead, the Prime saw the long trickle of blood streaming from its nose. Shards of bone had mangled and contorted the amphibian’s once shapely face. The underlying skull had been broken, but not crushed. This was Gildarts chance to exterminate the threat in front of him.
The Gildarts felt his right arm tense with magic, and soon his feet were moving to deliver the explosion of light into the monstrous beast. One snap from the dragon’s maw and that was all it would take... Gildarts couldn’t help but feel the chill of where his current missing appendages made contact with his skin. It was the same. Nearly everything. Except this time, he would win.
Several punches exploded on the green, slimy scales of the T-rex, however they were aimed low, in order to dodge the maw of the great beast. The blows were imprecise on the sturdy creature’s base, and they had little effect on him. Gildarts, however, was now panting, and he felt a layer of fatigue tracing shadows along the corners of his eyes.
Heavy breaths heaved from his gauss wrapped diaphragm, yet his muscles were strong and held him upright, though the fatigue tempted his mind to sway.
“Getting.... Tired?” the voice slithered in his ear...
Gildarts smirked, as though fatigue were just another challenge for the Prime to overcome. The dinosaur was overconfident, or rather, the malefactor inside him. Gildarts would use that to his advantage, after all, a good strategy was the best way to bring down a beast of such modest size. He couldn’t shake the feeling though that it seemed to want to toy with the Prime, rather than deliver decisive blows as he had to the orc. But there was the possibility that the orgosynth within had sensed the man’s magic, and kept his slight distance while the creature itself derived a plan for the best course of action.
Suddenly, another bombardment of fist met raw scale, and Gildarts slammed his blows into the flank and ribs of the reptile. Quite literally, he had knocked the wind out of the beast. However, instead of characteristically thrashing with its tremendous jaws, stomping with its earth-shattering feet, or swinging it’s sweeping tail to knock down a forrest of trees, the beast grew violently unchained.
Its master had let it off its leash, it seemed, and the tyrannosaurus rex was screeching in pain. The fresh blaze on Gildarts’ eardrums made him wince in pain, yet he had other things to worry about than his eardrums bursting. An enormous, condescending foot was coming at him from above, the beast’s jaws snarled on the other side, and on the side which Gildarts could have escaped, he was cornered by the massive scaly tail.
The Prime’s expression greased to that of certainty. His eyes fell on the parts he would have to be careful when maneuvering through. A lapse of judgement and it would be over, but Gildarts had little time to think about losing his life. Instantly he as flung forward, away from the step of the monster’s heavy gait. Next, he would dodge the jaws, with a loud SNAP! Gildarts could feel the chill of fate on the back of his neck. Freshly sharped blades, a guillotine meant for him, his beheading had been evaded once more. Lastly, the steamrolling onset of an immense wave of thick flesh. It came at him, but Gildarts’ strategy told him to brace himself.
The Prime readied a punch into the tail, and the two forces collided, steel for steel. A shockwave of energy burst all around the Prime and the remnants of the stray streaks of energy shot out into the air, their locations, unknown. The tail of the beast was nearly broken, yet even in its deadweight it had girth. Gildarts’ body was sent into helplessly into the air. He was flung in the direction of a rather large rock, which cracked with giant crevices on his impact.
Pebbles from above clattered on the bridge of his nose, rousing him awake. He felt the heavy steps of a stampede coming in his direction, but Gildarts was still seeing stars. The man’s steely body, with sheer sinew rippling with every crevice, now felt like the rock behind him. Shattered. Broken. Immovable.
“Gah...” the prime could not even tear his arms away from the place they had fallen, like they had been meshed with the same stone that riddled his body with the unending strikes of pain.
Eyelids, weighed like curtains until he ripped them from the dark. He reasoned to himself If I do not move, I will die, and if I fall here, there will be far too many consequences. It was like that of a domino, a single man, then a village, then an entire verse would fall to the destruction of a single tyrant. This creature should not be allowed to live. If only, if only his body would allow him to fight.
“NO!” the ninja appeared, valiantly in front of him. Apparently, he had been throwing ninja stars all along, yet, on a creature this size, the twigs of metal would only stick out from the first layer of his skin. A ninja verses a giant reptile was not a good match, for one was meant for stealth, and the other, sheer and utter force. Yet still, they faced.
“Don’t worry Gildarts, I won’t let this thing get you,” the ninja’s powers of observation were keen, for he had seen, when Gildarts had been unable to flex even the tip of his finger, the slow, labored breaths of his lungs rising and falling, “You nearly nicked it back there, and I commend you for this fight, but now, it is my turn, to defeat the monster that murdered my master and destroyed my home.”
The dragon-sized monster was already upon him, and it towered over the ninja, clothed in black, with the dark silhouette of an immense skyscraper, reducing the threat the secondary posed to that of a pea. Still the boy had fight, and executed a few of the moves he had mastered, as well as the courage given to him by the same man he was defending.
Clouds of smoke would have no effect on a beast that saw better with his nose, so Nekui simply pulled out his katanas and in an instant, they were lit with a curious blue flame. With a few slashing blows, the scales of the beast resembled butter, and gashes soon opened where the flash of blade met with the shimmer of green scales.
It wasn’t long, however, that the boy grew tired. With each blow, there was an equal amount of weariness delivered to the ninja. It was apparent that the attack was taking a lot of out him, and soon enough the boy lost the only thing that was keeping him alive, speed. The fatigue of a single human against the unending resources of a giant was something that was damned near impossible to overcome. If that of the orc and the wizard had barely lasted a few rounds with the beast, it was only courage and blind rage that had given the ninja the hopeful chance that he would be the one to deliver the killing blow to the monster and slice open its neck.
Gildarts had willed his eyes open. The rock had formed an arch around where he had landed, and he was nearly smothered by the stone, which was growing up and around him. A curious happenstance, that the Prime had fallen on a stone that had regenerative powers, but now, it looked like he would grow into the wall of stone, and his voice cracked as he applied the pressure to ask for aid. No, his eyes told him the boy had nearly been chomped to death a second ago, it looked like Gildarts would have to face this threat solo.
The rock had nearly devoured him, creeping up like quicksand, filling in and solidifying in crevices in its congealing sedentary form. The weight of rock coiling against his legs, arms, and diaphragm made it harder for him to breathe than the fatigue that weighed in his bones.
The Fairtytail wizard’s faith was wavering, again and again he willed himself to be stronger than the rock that was now zapping his energy, whatever reserves he had had left, it was almost like the last had been sucked up for the giant boulder to grow where it was broken.
Clenching muscles and veins popped out of place, struggled against the limits of bone and the sheer density of the stone made it nearly impossible for him to carry on. He coaxed himself, “Come on..” but he had not even the energy to complete the words. With a grimace, Gildarts concluded that this was nearly the end. He could not move, his joints were immobile, and soon enough whether it was the pressure of stone that wrapped around his ribs like an anaconda, or the final sealing up of stone around his mouth, sooner rather than later, he would take his final breath.
Sooner, it seemed, that the ribs around his lungs were snapping like twigs. Crack! Crrrack! Gildarts was not only engulfed in rock, but now consumed by the pain. It was torture, for he heard the breaking of his bones, felt the twist of his lungs around the mangled shards of bone, before he felt the sharp stabbing of pain pierce every thought and every memory he had held onto that was good. All of this, and he could not even scream.
He was being eaten alive, and was helpless to emancipate himself. He, Gildarts Clive of Fairytail, had fallen once more to the throes caused by that of a dragon. How was it, that the bitterness of fate could be so cruel? The Prime, had no idea, and instead, the snap of his ribs fought his ability to think. He would soon lose his ability to breathe, and that, would be the end.
“No.” he told himself. But that was not enough. He himself, no matter how much rebellion he could muster to wage within himself, would never be enough to overthrow the deliverer of death.
...
“Help!” a voice squeaked.
“Where’s Gildarts?” the ninja asked to the the kitten, Gildarts, remembered now, Piqui, that beautiful little cat had been over the ninja’s shoulder when the boy came in to save Gildarts’ life. Both of them would be killed. Murdered. Slaughtered by the monster he had not had the strength to defeat.
“Gildarts, help!” Piqui squeaked again, Gildarts could not see it from the dark shroud of his Vitruvian sized cave, but he could imagine the two youths helpless below the chomping jaws of death.
Gildarts found he had two options. He could give up, he could tell them, “I cannot, I am not able to fight any more,” with the little strength he had left, that which he had been using to retaliate against the slow agony that came with his body’s fragmented destruction. Or he could do the easier of the two, and used the only thing he had left to fight with. He would convert the very blood in his body to liquid magic. And if that wasn’t possible? It didn’t matter, he’d be dead anyway, so why not try?
Boiling water heated his veins, and may as well have melted the blood vessels used to deliver oxygen to his muscles. The fight came to him once more, the whims of agony that his shattering ribs had caused him were nothing to him now. Instead of small splinters of anguish, something more akin to misery swamped his body in a massive upheaval of magic. Energy pulsed in his ears, and his eyes became slants of red. Gildarts felt his haunches move, his skin combatting the rock around him, and winning.
Magic pored from every part of him, including the steel appendages he called his left hand and foot. It took no time at all for the ‘detonator’ button to be pushed, Gildarts saw his body burst with light, and suddenly, there was a crackle of rock. The man eating stone was no more than shards and atoms, flung into the sky and dissipating into sand. Now however, even the ground broke around him, crash magic as flung everywhere, and well, it was a bit out of control.
The T-Rex had been reduced to primitive once more, and it did not acknowledge the man’s puny magic as a threat until it was too late. The ninja had been holding onto the dinosaur’s back, gripping his ninja stars that had once been thrown as thorns into the giant’s massive scales. On the boy’s back, Piqui was slung, cradled by Gildarts’ sack from the home he had known before. The archaic beast roared and attempted to shake them off once more, yet, he could not reach, for they were well located, and the function of the dinosaur’s tail had been nearly cut off, assuring that if the ninja held on -though at the cost of his own, bloodstained hands- the two would survive in the last crevice that the monster could not reach.
When the ninja and the cat’s eyes saw that the man emerge from the litter of pebbled rock, was unmistakably Gildarts, they sighed a breath of relief, though they still found themselves swaying with the beast’s jolting movements. “Gildarts!” both sang in chorus, but he could not hear them, because the roar of crash magic was laced in his blood, and continuously pounding in his ears.
“Uh-uh-oh..” Piqui muttered to herself, as though she had a vague sense, told by instinct, of the Gildarts they were looking at, for she could only partly distinguish that he was not entirely in control.
His eyes were blinded by red shards of light, mirroring the fierce shape of rhombus-shaped diamonds. Suddenly, it was Gildarts who did not see the very people he had come back from the dead to protect, and Gildarts threw a mighty punch into the dinosaur’s torso, pushing the beast from his legs and onto its scaly back. With a loud crash as he had fallen into the protruding stump of a large tree, it was almost ironic, had the ninja not nearly met the same fate.
They jumped from their perch, certain that the large stake wedged in the ancient fossil would be enough to keep it down. However, it was a primitive beast, not persuaded by pain, nor reason, for it could not see the large protruding gash in the side of it’s back, not did it have any knowledge that it was this wound that had punctured its lung.
Wheezing, curt breaths came from the vicious beast, meanwhile Gildarts body was swelling with power, though both knew it was only short-lived. The T-Rex got to his feet, and Gildarts let it, the power he felt already in his boiling blood spoke of chaos and rage, he felt the crash magic coursing through him, as it wished to consume him and do what it did best. Destruction.
However there were still shards of humanity left in him in the swirl of thickening madness. And though, Gildarts was but a hair away from the abyss that could never be returned from, a warrior always knew who his enemy was. This time, it was the monster, and though he could not see the others with his tunneled vision, he hoped they would have gotten out of the way by now, for his fists were moving on their own, and could not be stopped.
Quote:Tier 2 power up used! SP -2
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus