Check: Queen Threatens King

[Dawnika Snow]

This is a bounty fight. Our first posts are mainly dialogue. After that, the real fight will begin.

The blood-crazed vigilante stood at the top of the hill looking down at the golden-blazen man with murderous intent. Her fists trembled with excitement, the thrill of fighting a real dragon! While she felt she could easily get a preemptive strike in if she tried, where would be the fun in that? The blonde hunter took a deep breath and bellowed loudly.

“Ghidorah!!” Her loud cry seemed to echo through across the vast plains. The golden dragon cocked his head back to look at the figure on the hill. A woman clad in silver armor pieces put together under a strapless black dress. Needless to say, he was speechless.

“If you know my name, then address me with my title, paramecium .” The bronze brazen King turned to face mysterious newcomer.

The vigilante slid down the slope just a few yards away from him. With a closer inspection, he had no wings, and was actually really humanoid for being a dragon.

“Paramecium? That’s how you talk to a Queen?” She asked walking closer to the so called king. 

"Your limited concepts of royalty are less than meaningless. I have existed for eons, far beyond what you could ever hope to comprehend. I am called 'King' because I am peerless, little thing. Now - by what right do you claim to be a Queen? Tell me about it.” The King folded his arms across his chest.

“Because in this world, I'm anything I want to be.”

“Does that include dirt under my feet?” Her response was a simple shrug and sardonic smirk.

“If you can get your foot that high against me, I might as well be.” Ghidorah’s curiosity continued to rise. He was full aware that his power has very much been drained upon the arrival, but this tiny little being thinks she's equal to him? Preposterous.

“That’s a bold statement, little girl. You think you have any chance of destroying me?” 

“Well, you see, Primes are some pretty amazing creatures. Me and you are practically the same species.” Ghidorah could only cringe in disgust.

“You are arrogant young human. I will flatten you beneath my feet like the pathetic insect you are.” Before Ghidorah could say anything Erika raised her fist. He readied himself to breathe lightning, just in case. Instead of a sudden attack, he watched as she drove her fist into the earthen floor below her, cracking a stone in the ground to dust and splintering the earth.

“Don't underestimate me, whelp.” Said the blonde woman removed her hand from the ground and dusted the dirt off her glorious armor.

[King Ghidorah]

This one is interesting.

She knows who I am - though evidently not what that means - and seems to want to fight. More importantly, she possesses some strength, and that makes me pause. 

As grating as the idea may be, I should be cautious. The memory of my downfall at the claws of The Warrior, my embarrassing struggle against Coxley, and the near-miss at the circle of standing stones all remain fresh in my mind. It almost feels as though the horrible, nigh-blasphemous idea that I am no longer invincible (which is a word that practically shines, flashing and dangerous) is being forced down my throat. As furious as that makes me, I can't deny the fact that I've been diminished. 

Still though, such presumption! The way she uses words is fascinating, deliberately disrespectful in a way I've never encountered before. It almost reminds me of the feeling I got from being around Gigan, but even that blade-brained fool always knew his place.

Does this creature believe that taunting me is a game? That her posturing will have the slightest effect on the outcome of this contest?  She may be strong, but I can see at a glance that this smug little thing is also soft, possessing the same weak hide as the rest of the miserable mammals I've encountered so far. She covers it with armor, but she's not the first to think that artifice can save them from me. 

The wind blows, rustling the leaves of the nearby forest, and the sun sinks lower in the sky, the light turning a deeper shade of red as it fades. Large sections of the pastoral basin upon whose lip we stand are in shadow now, that which remains illuminated glowing with the ruddy hues of twilight.

The settling dust from her ostentatious display catches the light, shimmering upon the reddening road. 

I gleam.  

For daring to compare us, and to so blithely insult me, I'm going to destroy this woman - though even had she come to me on her knees I would have done that eventually anyway. 

But first, I'm going to make her understand. 

"I would have liked to know more about you," I tell her, astral charge sparking within my chest as my anger rises, "But I'll settle for learning how you die."

[Dawnika Snow]

It begins!

Rules:
Time: 72 hours
Words: 1000 max
SP: On
Random Elements: On
Damage meter: On

Let's fight!

The silver-clad assassin cracked her knuckles under the metal protecting her hands. Her foot slid across the dirt carefully as she assumed a fighting stance. Ghidorah stood opposite of her just few meters out of reach. The black and blue plastic hanging on Erika’s neck started to make noise. The headphones cried out with a loud siren, or alarm, like those that would warn the city of an impending tornado. The dragon stood confused until he heard the guitar riff. Heavy metal strings blared over the sounds of a drumset. The golden man wore an annoyed expression. Music, how unbearable.

The wind blew past the two once again, and the sun disappeared behind the horizon, lighting only half the sky in a fiery lit tint. Adrenaline pumped through Erika’s blood, lighting fire in her soul and burning brightly on her face. All she could think about was getting the chance to break a dragon. He didn't look like a traditional dragon, but his soul radiated pride and destruction; everything a dragon needs..not mention the lightning spit that was launched at her with a loud roar.

With a quick motion and a combat roll Erika was able to get away from the electronic spit before it cooked her. She braced her fists and sprinted as fast as she could, which wasn't too fast but the distance between them was no more than a hop skip and a jump. Ghidorah stood ground, even after watching Erika punch a small ditch in the ground. Nevertheless, her fist reached for his chest, only to be caught by his hand. The golden dragon flinched. Her attack was much more powerful than predicted, the force pushed him back a few inches, his feet sliding through the dirt.

The golden haired assassin, fist still caught in claw, took her free hand and grabbed Ghidorah’s scaly left wrist. Judging by his scrunched expression, he was about to breathe more lightning death. She acted quickly, twisting the King’s wrist and forcing him in front of her. His golden breath scorched the ground in just ahead of them. After he had finished turning the grass black with golden streaks, she grabbed him by his upper arm and swung his whole body, tossing him into the base of  a decent sized tree next to the pond. The broken half of the tree collapsed into the water making a small tidal wave on the other end of the basin. Dust collected from the splinters of wood that broke away from the trunk, making a small cloud of dirt around Ghidorah. Erika had gotten into the battle spirit now, and was already chasing after him. Her expression was oozing psychotic pleasure. The lust for battle only fueled her endeavor, ensuring she wouldn't go down until her body had withered.

“You insolent little pest! I'm going to destroy you!” Ghidorah raged as he pulled himself out of the wooden debris. He took a deep breath, exhaling more lightning in Erika’s direction. She took it directly and it scorched at her nerves, but she didn’t seem to care; she would not have been able to dodge anyway. The lightning barely slowed her, certainly not enough to allow him to let out another breath. Her fist connected with his stomach, and his claw with her shoulder. Both of them let out grunts of pain. With the boon of preparation, Erika’s armor protected her shoulder from a devastating slash wound, however, the bludgeoning force of Ghidorah’s arm did cause some unwanted discomfort. Erika jumped back as he reached in to tear her head off her torso, and swung her arm through the air. A cone of white light burst from her fist, knocking the King off his throne and back onto the ground. He wasn't expecting such an odd attack. It was like she had breathed fire, only if fire was pure force. It didn't hurt as much as her other punch did, but any pain was hardly helpful to him.

Before he could collect himself, she was upon him again. The silver fists interlock to form one tool of destruction, a medium for an adolescent’s insany driven rage. Dragon or not, Ghidorah was nothing more than a punching bag to her; a golden, lightning spewing punching bag. Her hammer-fist drove into the King’s armored chest, causing him to cough up blood. She made him bleed. The simple thought drove the dragon insane.

He took a few more punches before gaining some sense, grabbing the short blonde by her hands and smashing her into the ground with ease. Locked under his grip on the ground she was helpless to another vomit of lightning at point blank range. The electric tore at her nerves and muscles, pain seared her skin with fizzling heat burning at her tendons.

Pain never stopped her before, and it wouldn't now. She survived many troubling experiences with fire; lightning was only another endeavor blocking her path. The strong willed assassin dug her hand into the ground and pushed against Ghidorah’s force. With a loud battle cry she was able to overpower him enough to get to her hands and knees. Her hand reached for the Japanese Saber on her waist where she pulled it out, slicing Ghidorah's wrist iaido style. He was forced to let go, allowing the girl to roll away. More blood dripped from the King’s hand. The Queen bled as well, dribbling off her lips and down into her dress. Good thing she wore black. A flick of her stained blade sent little trickles of dragon blood off the steel, where she promptly replaced it in it’s sheathe. The both of them reassumed their stances before readying for the next attack.

“You can't crush my spirit, whelp!” The assassin screamed as she recklessly charged into battle again.

Exactly 1000 words, as described in our rules. Ghidorah and Erika have taken several bludgeoning strikes each, but Erika has tasted dragon vomit in form of watts. Both are still capable of fighting though.

[King Ghidorah]

The girl rushes me again, bellowing nonsense, and I unleash my glorious golden fury. The first two bolts arc wide, crackling from my fingers and bursting from my throat to carve molten trenches in the road, glowing radiantly in the fading twilight.  I sweep a third blast sideways, inscribing an arc of blazing death across the infuriating upstart's path.

The flesh of her legs is scorched, shreds of her ludicrous clothing flaring into electric ash at the merest touch of my power, and she stumbles and falls! 

I grin, my anger rising in time with my savage satisfaction, and I rush to the attack. This pitiful creature has drawn my blood! She, who can't even withstand a single astral bolt without injury, has caused me pain! An indignity of this magnitude (which is much better word than 'size') can't go unpunished. 

My tiny tormentor begins to rise, but as she raises her gaze from the rapidly darkening road, the first thing she sees is my foot. 

I don't manage to catch her full in the face, so she gets to keep her flat, stupid-looking teeth. The yellow-haired pest reacts fast, almost as though she were warned - but not quite fast enough! My kick strikes her solidly on the shoulder and knocks her onto her back, sprawling in the dirt.

"You poor, deluded creature," I bellow, slamming my heel down upon her and grinding it into her ribs, feeling them bend and crack beneath the inevitable pressure of my peerless strength, "I can crush anything I like!" 

"Fuck you!' She gasps, "Crush this!"

Metal flashes in the upstart's hand, and a line of white-hot pain blazes across my shin. She's cut me! I jerk my foot back instinctively, retreating from the pain, but she grabs me by the ankle, pulling hard and toppling me to the ground!

Entangled with one another, we scrabble and claw, our graceless struggle taking us off the road and into the grass. I would have thought that my size would be an advantage, but the girl is slippery as well as strong; she manages to roll me onto my back, straddling my glorious golden chest - and then she begins to pummel my face.

At first it almost doesn't seem real. Every blow rings against my scales with a high, pure note of metal on unyielding flesh, the sheer impact whipping my head from one side to another with a kind of bright urgency that makes it nearly impossible to focus. I flail at her arms, trying to stop the assault, but the constant pounding is so disorienting that I don't know where to put my stupid useless hands! 

"Die, you homicidal iguana!" she yells, repeating the word with every blow. 

"Die! Die! Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die,Die-

I spit lightning, and the vicious momentum of her attack carries her armored fist right into the bolt. The girl screams in pain and alarm as the point-blank arc of astral energy engulfs her gauntlet and skips along her arm, earthing itself in her shoulder with a spray of sparks and carbonized flesh.

The stench of burning meat and crackling ozone fills the air (two of my favorite smells!). I do it again while she's distracted, my power shining with a brilliant corona in the post-twilight gloom as it strikes her in the chest, unleashing a shower of bright orange embers. My mammalian persecutor is blown backward onto the ground, trailing smoke! 

I scramble backward on my hands, feeling only vaguely satisfied. The world is spinning, and my head is full of a burning numbness. 
It takes me a moment to realize what's happening: in the past, I've always had backup heads. If one of the three took a serious blow, the others could compensate. Now, deprived of that luxury and struck repeatedly in the face, I'm having to actually deal with the disorientation of a rattled brain. 

I haul myself to my knees, gathering my focus to make an effort at regaining my feet.  

My unworthy opponent groans, and in defiance of all common sense, the scorched and scalded human being with her silly ruined dress and useless, blackened armor begins to stand up! The sheer implausibility (which is a word I wish I had the time to appreciate) of the spectacle roots me to the spot. The girl raises her head and looks at me, grinning her hate from a bleeding, soot-blackened face, and there's a glint in her eyes that I recognize. Gigan had that look, before the filthy, scuttling inhabitants of the Spacehunter Nebula tamed him, shining in the depths of his single crimson eye. 

This person is insane. 

Finally managing to find my balance, I return her bloodthirsty smile. True insanity is a rare quality, and one whose annihilation I've only ever been able to really appreciate a handful of times. The prospect of erasing this unusual woman, and her vibrant madness along with her, sends a tingle of anticipation down my spine.  

The pain and indignity are going to be worth it for such an uncommon prelude to the grand symphony of ruin I plan to compose in this valley.

"Is that all you've got?" she asks, coughing blood. "Bitch?"

Chortling in anger, I give her my response, lighting the newborn night in shades of gold. 

896 words according to word-counter.

King Ghidorah used Golden lightning in both firing modes, but mostly the vanilla flavor.

That is the only trick he knows right now. Everything else is just Physical Strength and his great stonking ATK/DEF scores.  

Dawn/Erika used Foresight.
Dawn/Erika used Moyashi
Dawn/Erika used Steel Gauntlets

[Dawnika Snow]

Pain. Her hands balled tightly into fists, she slowly forced herself to stand. She didn't care how much it hurt. Pain was only a sign that a person would die if they kept getting hurt. She knew she was dying; she knew it hurt, so she ignored it.

“Is that all you got, bitch?!” She screamed , blood coated her tongue and teeth from coughing.

Electric shocks fizzled up her arms, searing at her tendons. The pained expression on Ghidorah’s face told Erika that her fists were working their magic. She grinned gleefully and felt a jolt of joy; or, was that more of the electric aftershocks? Either way, the sole fact of being able to bash down a beast of pride and annihilation tickled her in all the right ways. She began to chuckle which slowly leads into a psychopathic cachinnation. Ghidorah seemed disgusted at her inane cackling.

“What do you find so amusing, little girl?” He asks trying to fully regain himself.

“Why, isn't it obvious?” She asks through her haughty cackle. “This is the greatest hunt ever! I'm bleeding, you're bleeding; I'm on equal footing with a dragon! A creature of pure destruction! I am INVINCIBLE!

“Blasphemy! Foolish human! You solemnly believe you're at a level that can even be compared to me?!” That statement seems to have triggered the golden reptile.

“Yes! Yes!” She screamed with psychotic grin painted across her face. Black appendages violently spurted from Erika’s back. “Let’s spice things even more!”

She has wings? A new feeling. Was Ghidorah actually jealous? His envy was ever apparent in that stern expression. How he longed for the glory of flight again.

The assassin took flight, letting the gentle breeze carry her up along with a few heavy flaps. The King reacted instantly, spewing golden death in her direction but she was much faster at the wing and moved away before it even got close. She swooped around him, flying past his lightning breath to even the between them. Without slowing down, she barreled into his chest with her fists making impact. He dug his heels into the dirt to stop sliding as she dragged him along. Erika then planted her feet in the ground, getting another two punches in: One to his scaly knee, effectively kneeling him; then a follow-up strike to his chin. Although the blow was rather disorienting, the bronze-clad iguana kept true to his footing, albeit the assassin wasn't going to easy up. She rolled past him to get a view of his backside and wrapped his arms around his torso. Clasping her hands together and locking her fingers in a tight hold, she roughly flapped her wings to take off. His large weight was a bit difficult to manage in hand with his twisting and turning to escape, but nevertheless they took flight.

“Let go over me you simple minded plebeian!” He growled as he attempted to claw and bash his way out of the hold.

“Screw off you arrogant piece of shit!” 100 feet of wrestling later, Erika changed direction plummeting straight for the ground. She grabbed Ghidorah by his beefy arms, pinned them back and stood on his back facing him towards the approaching earth. A crater splinter the earth underneath him, raining dirt and grass around the two. Erika released the reptilian humanoid and jumped off of his spine. His limp body laid there momentarily before slowly and sluggishly pulling himself up. Blood dribbled down his whole body, leaking thick red liquid almost everywhere. His whole front side was glazed in soil.

Erika could feel him radiating pure hatred. Every fiber of his being wanted to tear her body into confetti.

“I'm through with this pathetic squabbling, paramecium. You will die slowly, writhing in pain as my glorious golden lightning cooks your body like beef.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Words are useless.” She says mocking him with her hand. Without warning, and a lucky moment in Erika’s mocking where she was unprepared, he shot his lightning directly at her, scorching her skin even worse. Anymore hits like that would leave her without skin. She angrily charged in response, swinging her fist as he breathes more golden puke at her. The flash of light that had sent him back last time collided with his attack, sending electricity sparking in different directions. Fist-to-fist again, Ghidorah had enough. The annihiliator grabbed hold of her appendage and swung her around like a ragdoll. With a strong flick of his wrist, he sent the assassin flying into the cliff face. Dirt showered over her head. The dragon ruthlessly gave chase, giving her a taste of her own medicine. His fists connected to her body and face multiple times, blackening her skin with bruises as well as burns.

In attempt to escape, she swung her fists sporadically, making an awkward blow on his chest that wasn't very effective. He backed off for anmoment to avoid a worse hit, but that was all the time she needed. By the time he came back in to flurry more bludgeoning punches that could crack her bones, she grabbed hold of his fist with a dodge and slammed him against the dirt wall. More dirt rained on them both.

The golden iguana vomited more of his glorious electric destruction over her head, not really aiming for her. The vigilante flinched in response and ducked, allowing him to get a heavy swing in sending her flying back several meters into the nearby pond. She fished herself out, drenched in mossy water.

“Not good...enough.” She coughed, spitting up blood and water slightly disoriented. . “You’ll never break my spirit. My soul.”

973 words. Both Erika and Ghidorah feel a bit worse for wear.

[King Ghidorah]

I push away from the little earthen wall -  barely more than a steep dip in the hillside really (and what a surprise to discover that there isn't a proper word for such a thing!) - which shelters the overgrown puddle into which I've so recently thrown the object of my aggression. 

She hauls herself out of the mire, and immediately begins talking again. This creatures fascination with her so-called 'spirit' is intriguing - but it's also beginning to get on my nerves. I should not be having this much difficulty!

"You're mistaken," I tell her, "about what it is I've been trying to break!"

Energy cascades from my fingers (which is still a horrible word, although I'm beginning to develop an appreciation for the actual appendages. The sheer control they grant, the power to grasp... I'm looking forward to exploring them further). I throw yet more lightning, sweeping it in a wide arc, but the girl's remarkable reflexes save her from the worst of it. The madwoman performs an awkward dive, and the beam dances over her head, turning a vast swath of the pond behind her into a cauldron of boiling muck. Little islands of burning algae flicker for a moment in the gathering dark before guttering out. 

I stalk towards her, growling. "And as for your 'soul'... It's almost endearing that you think you have one. Gods have souls. Civilizations have souls. I have a soul!"

The little monster interrupts me, bursting from her prone position with a yell of defiance and tackling me at the waist, driving into my stomach with her elbow. I shudder as the breath rushes out of me, but I refuse to fall, my feet digging into the earth as the impact forces me backward.  

I knee her in the stomach, a sharp, wet sound, and grasp her around the waist, lifting the charred, soggy upstart bodily over my head! 

"The life-force that animates your miserable carcass," I growl, "is nothing so grand!"

I toss the madwoman's body across the road, and watch her bounce and roll across the fields, finally skidding to a halt beside a single wooden post, decayed remnant of some long-gone barrier. I stalk after her, my anger growing with every step I take. The injuries my enemy has inflicted pain me, and I leave a trail of gold-flecked ichor, shining in the light of the night's first stars. As I advance, I lash out with my astral might. Jagged bolts of cosmic energy rip into the turf, starting small fires and blasting soil high into the air, but none strike my enemy. 

She stirs, using the fence-post as a handhold to pull herself to her feet. I pause, gathering my power, and unleash a volley of three lethal bolts, but I just can't seem to land a hit! They arc wide, tearing glowing furrows in the sod. This is infuriating! 

Such a pathetic excuse for a fighter, this miserable female mammal with her ridiculous iron gloves. She's grows ever more fascinating in her bizarre refusal to fall before my strength, and in the way that every time I hurt her she just seems to become more engaged. But to deal me such injuries! To mock me so with her wings! 

I feel a stirring as I consider this last indignity, and I halt my advance. The power of flight, and all it represents, are mine by right. What claim does she have to the skies when I am DENIED?! Responding to something, my anger or my interest, the dormant heads that adorn my shoulders open their eyes. 

The girl notices my distraction, and grabs hold of the fence-post, breaking it off at the base and hefting it in both hands like a club. Grinning a wide, bloody grin beneath my threefold gaze, she proclaims: "I'm not the one who's going to be a carcass, you arrogant golden pinata!"

... Pinata is a word I don't know, but I can only assume it's insulting. 

Aiming carefully with all six eyes, I concentrate my power, and three spiral bolts burst forth from my hands and throat, wrapping around one another in a dazzling dance of sizzling, leaping death. 

If this doesn't correct my opponent's misapprehensions, then she's even crazier - and far more durable - than I thought.  

 
 

712 words according to Wordcounter.Net

Ghidorah used Golden lightning, again, both fire-modes.
Ghidorah is using Tier-1 Super-Attack Gravity Lathe - and his only SP point. 

Dawn/Erika used Foresight
Dawn/Erika used Steel gauntlets. 

[Dawnika Snow]

If only there had been a few more seconds to react. The lightning was too fast, even with Erika’s enhanced reflexes. The giant electric bolt of crackling energy struck forth with the fury of Zeus himself. The only thing Erika could do was cross her arms in front of her head to prevent herself from being knocked unconscious. If not for that, she would most definitely be a carcass right now; an extremely charred carcass. Her knee plowed the ground below her as she fell. It looked as if she was done; blood dripped from every part of her body, staining the grass that was barely visible beneath the waning gibbous moon. The poor girl heaved aggressively, spitting blood staining her breastplate with each breath.

A heavy aura resonated in the distance; she could feel the pure hatred radiating from Ghidorah as he approached her. Her limbs refused to move, the electricity coursing through her nerves still keeping her muscles agonizingly locked. Though her ears were slightly ringing, she could hear his oversized feet slowly stomping towards her. All she could do was plead for her body to act; to reach up and pull Zeus from his throne on Olympus. He stood before her, no more than a meter away. Forcing her head to angle up, she groaned in excruciating pain.

Ghidorah seemed unimpressed, judging by the stern expression he wore. “I seem to recall you saying ‘If you can raise your foot that high against me, I might as well be dirt under your feet.’” His deep voice beat against the rapid pounding of her still-functional heart.

“I suppose you are nothing more than dirt then,” The dragon-man snidely remarked as he raised his huge foot above her, ready to smash her like an insect.

I refuse.

How it happened was a mystery to both combatants, but Erika’s body suddenly flared in defiance. Her left forearm caught the King’s foot midway, her opposite hand gripping her wrist for support. Describing the pain as merely ‘hurting’ would have been an understatement. The golden-gloater was dumbfounded; how could this feeble creature still move? He showed her no mercy, ready to rain more golden hell down upon her.

“You underestimate me!” The blonde screamed with a vicious glower. Just as he let his lightning out, she slid back, feet digging through the dirt. The abrupt movement swung Ghidorah’s head down, causing him to electrocute his own foot. Not even wasting a second, her fist wound back, ready to unleash its fury on whatever dared meet it. A heavy haymaker connected with the King’s kneecap; between the two cases of armor(or armor and scales?), Erika could bet she might have at least cracked his bone, perhaps even shattered it completely.  Quickly disallowing Ghidorah the precious time to scream in agony, Erika’s wings burst from her back allowing her to effectively dropkick him to a prone state.

Ghidorah reeled in pain on the ground while his attacker landed softly, only to drop to her knee again. Her body refused to move again. Was this it? Was all her work to find and effectively pummel her target simply in vain? No. There is always a way. The pig that writhed in pain in front of her didn’t deserve the pleasure of victory, and there was no way she was going to let that happen so long as she kept breathing. The golden haired vigilante ignored the numbing pain spiking every single nerve in her body just to stand.

I refuse.

Just as her footing was solid enough to stand up straight and start walking, an unpleasant feeling shot through her muscles, though it wasn’t painful.

“Wha-” She coughed through some blood. “What’s happening?!” Just as she finished her sentence, a black fire erupted from her mouth, encasing her body in a rosebud-shaped cocoon. The flames danced wildly around her for a few seconds before she took on a new appearance; shorter black hair and ocean blue eyes, opposite of her previous look.

Ghidorah finally came through, lifting himself from the ground. Pain radiated up his leg and into his back. Though, that wasn’t the primary thought in his mind; what happened to the blonde haired bitch he was just fighting?

“Who are you?” Were the only words he could form right now. The black haired girl in front of him groaned in excruciating pain as he spoke, but still answered forcing herself to stand up straight in good posture.

“Dawnika Snow.” She plainly answered in a deeper voice. The assassin unhooked the steel gauntlets from her wrists and let gravity take them. Once her hands were free she reached on her back, pulling out the rifle that sat snug in its holster. Ghidorah was about to make another comment, but his opponent gave him no time. She raised her sniper in his direction. A loud boom sounding as the .50 caliber bullet blew from the cartridge and towards him. Though it barely pierced his tough skin, the bullet tip did manage to break through, like a stake in the ground. To Ghidorah, this was nothing, but he had to care for the state he was currently in. He ripped the bullet from his shoulder and tossed it to the ground.

Familiar black wings erupted from Dawn’s back as she quickly took flight. Ghidorah instantly noticed how much faster she was. Nevertheless, he attempted to attack her from the ground with his dragon breath. Much to his disappointment, Dawn was too agile and nimble to be hit by such a downtempo offensive.

After unloading her full magazine into her opponent, the ocean-eyed assassin stopped, hovering in midair, to summon her secondary rifle instead of reloading. She swooped in closer and emptied her magazine, most of the bullets hitting their mark. With a quick click-and-snap, her automatic rifle was reloaded and ready to fire again. The King could barely hear her stark voice reach his ears.

”I refuse to lose!”

993 words - according to Wordcounter.net

Ghidorah's knee is probably broken? It's at least feeling like chunky salsa.
Erika is now Dawn and effectively attacking from a safe distance with range.

[King Ghidorah]

This isn't going the way I'd hoped. 

Dawnika Snow's desperate struggle to survive against the unparalleled peril of me has left my body battered and bruised. Countless scratches and fissures mar a countenance that was formerly sheer gilded perfection. She has pummeled me, mocked my winglessness with her mastery of the air, and dealt me an injury which makes movement a chore.     

With her sudden change in appearance, nimbleness, and weaponry, the miserable mammal continues to reveal new and intriguing layers to her identity, but my fascination with her latest transformation is rapidly being outpaced by that cold, jangling thrill which has only recently joined my emotional repertoire. 

I'm afraid. Afraid of this tiny, mad female, who by right should be scurrying from the very sight of my shadow! 

' I refuse to lose', she says. I don't know if I'm more disgusted with myself, or offended at the sheer, unnatural hubris of such a claim! I want to run away, to return when I'm stronger and avenge this humiliation, but to flee from an inferior being... this mad changeling is no beast of legend, no walking apocalypse. Even as reduced as I am, the very thought of granting her even a hint of superiority makes me sick. This battle is rapidly becoming a matter of more than her destruction, or my gratification - my pride is on the line, and its only that which keeps me focused amid a  rising tide of panic.   

I roar my defiance! 

"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE!" 

The winged harridan responds with a clattering explosion of sound and light, unleashing another storm of stinging metal pellets. They zip and zing, for the most part ineffective, but some strike flaws in my armored hide, shattering battle-scored scales or lodging in previous wounds. I answer with a far more elegant attack, sweeping twin bolts of astral charge into the sky. Tracing glowing fissures in the night, both arc wide, but Dawnika Snow is forced to swoop low in order to evade.   

I take the opportunity to turn and run for the forest, just beyond the lip of the valley - or try to anyway. The pain in my damaged knee flares crimson, and I barely manage a sort of galloping limp, shuffling through the tall grass. 

I'm not fleeing the fight - even if my pride would allow it, I'm not equipped to run very far. It's just that I recognize what the woman's doing: floating untouchably above while I, her earthbound opponent, am forced to contend with her every destructive whim! I should - I invented that tactic, and knowing how she must feel right now, the power and control, is infuriating. If I can get to the forest, I can force her to come to me...

Another hail of tiny projectiles strikes the ground around me, but few find their mark, and those bounce harmlessly off my back. I increase my pace, ignoring the jolt of agony that comes with every shuffling stride. Compared to the lethal lash of The Warrior's solar-bright balefire, seared forever in my memory, such pain is insignificant, and I won't allow it to stop me.    

The report of Dawnika Snow's larger, more effective weapon echoes behind me. In the very same instant, a metal missile slams into my back, breaking through my skin and digging a shallow divot in my unyielding flesh! The blow breaks my stride, bringing my weight down too hard on the bad leg, and I stumble and fall at the top of the rise, just a few scant meters shy of my goal.

Still she thwarts me. Still she denies me! 

Lying face-down on the dirt road, I gather my power, shuddering and gritting my teeth as one shot after another lodges in my back. When my stunted avenues of cosmic energy literally cannot take anymore, I roll over. Taking sight of my opponent, my throat burns and fingertips crackle as I rake the sky with lightning!

The mad changeling is occupied with reloading her weapon, but she reacts quickly, dodging the first bolt as I sweep it towards her in a wide, continuous arc - but two more follow it in quick succession, tracing an after-image of a jagged, six-pointed cross in the sky. The second blast she dodges, equally deft, but the third twists viciously, catching the end of one wing as she ducks from its path, and the girl screeches, tumbling from the skies!

I groan as I push myself to my knees. My head pounds dully, dizzy and distant, and the roar of my cosmic furnace seems muted and fuzzy. I think I've reached this body's limit for channeling astral energy, and I'm too tired to even be offended at how low that limit has turned out to be. 

No weapons-fire crashes into my chest as I stand. I limp down the hill, leaving a trail of gold-flecked blood and silvery ichor, moving at as brisk a pace as I can manage. I keep my eyes focused as best I can upon the crumpled form lying charred and bleeding by the side of the road. 

It's a simple calculus. If I reach her before she stands up again - and I'm confident that this uniquely obstinate creature will stand up if I let her - then I'm going to stomp on her neck as hard as I can!

In my vast and considerable experience, it's an excellent way to establish who's in charge.  

901 words according to Wordcounter.net

Ghidorah used Golden lightning, both fire modes. 

Dawn used Flight
Dawn used Foresight
Dawn used Oscurita
Dawn used Epsilon Oriens

[King Ghidorah]

As per the revised judgement, I give you - The Terrifying Conclusion. I actually felt kind of bad writing it, so if you'd prefer to pretend Ghidorah gets hit by an ice-cream truck and Dawn is nursed back to health by a friendly nocturnal ice-cream man, stop here.

The changeling has rolled over onto her back by the time I reach the roadside where she lies half-hidden in the tall grass; The mad-woman shows no signs of rising. My enemy's eyes are open but unfocused and her breathing is short and sharp. Her ruined clothing and warped, melted armor are sticky with blackened blood. Much of the girl's exposed skin is reddened and peeling, the rest is either covered in vivid white blisters or outright charred. The wings that mocked me are crumpled and broken, one a smoking ruin, the other crushed beneath her when she had fallen.

I growl in satisfaction. Blinking hard to force the drifting black spots from my vision, I prepare to deliver the killing blow - only to realize that there's a problem. With my leg injured as it is, it can neither support my weight while I make lethal use of its partner, nor be used to do the deed.

For a moment I stand above her, my ravaged form glinting electrum in the starlight. I don't know what to do. Swaying on my feet, I stare at my soon-to-be victim, lost amid the muzzy clouds drifting through my battered brain. I'm dimly aware of the position of each of the three horns that hides atop my head, because they all hurt.

The girl groans, shutting her eyes slowly and tightly. When she opens them there's a spark of consciousness there. A light.

It inspires me.

Slowly, hissing from the pain, I crouch, shifting as much weight as possible to my good leg. Gingerly (which is such a soft, word, but with a ring of poison to it that I can't help but enjoy) I wrap an illustrious golden hand around the changeling's throat. With even greater care I stand, lifting her by the neck until her feet dangle above the bare earthen road. She gasps at the pain as I raise here wasted body, but the strength of my grip traps the sound in her throat. My hiss deepens into a growl.

A breeze rolls through the valley The whisper of the wind in the grass is like the roar of boiling seas amid the stillness of the night.

"Dawnika Snow," I say. The name feels thick and awkward on my swollen tongue.

She gurgles and flails, weakly wincing as her injuries protest. All of her strength - gone. I hold her at arm's length until the tantrum is spent.

"Was that all you had to show me? Have you no more hidden weapons or bizarre transformations? No further surprises in store?"

The mad-woman's eyes begin to flutter, and I shift my grip to her jaw. The way in which I'm holding her prevents a response, but I have more to say, and it wouldn't do for her to strangle just yet.

"Surely bluster, strength, and misplaced determination aren't all that you bring to this world. Are there people who will miss you? Were there things you expected to accomplish? Do you dream?"

I look into her pupils, ringed by such a unique shade of blue, and I see my own reflection filling her world; a thin, broken-fanged face, cracked and swollen from the changelings hammering metal fists. Moonlight glints silver off my golden scales and my sunset-red eyes gleam in the dark. My horns, still throbbing in pain, are barely visible through a mop of tangled yellow hair.

"There's a universe inside of every one of you pathetic micro-organisms, Dawnika Snow. Worlds of ambition and ideas - and I'm going to burn them to the ground. They collapse as you die, little pyres of secrets and possibilities. Utterly unique - exquisite. This world is beautiful, Dawnika - a marvel of complexity and texture, and every person in it only adds to its wonder."

I pull her close, leaning heavily on my uninjured leg. She tries to resist but I squeeze her neck with both hands until her eyes threaten to pop out of her skull. I whisper, my voice raw and shaking- but I don't even care. I didn't realize how badly I needed to tell someone how this all works, and now that I'm doing it I can't seem to stop!

"I'm going to destroy it, Miss Snow. It's only when a thing is lost that it can be appreciated! I'm going to get my real body back, and then I'm going to ruin everything! And when there's nothing left of the Omniverse but wasted architecture and poisoned air, it will. Be. PERFECT!"

My shout echoes across the valley. Night-time avians burst from the nearby forest, and mammals bleat and howl among the moonlit fields. Lights appear in the villages and towns, little pools of limpid gold upon night-time's silken shroud.

The combination of effort and excitement makes my vision pulse. I relax my grip and nearly fall but the pain that shoots up my leg and into my spine renews my focus. The girl whispers something. A blade appears in her hand. I unclench one hand and seize her wrist, breaking it with shocking ease. The sword falls and dully clatters on the ground. She barely has the strength to scream.

"What," I ask her, "was that?"

"Fuck off..." she breathes, her gaze hazy and distant.

I grit my cracked and broken teeth and focus on the well of Omnilium inside me. Instantly, an otherworldly pressure washes over me from the woman whose fading life I hold quite literally in my hand. She's full of the stuff.  It’s not suspended like it was within Coxley, but vibrant and moving. She practically shines.

I rumble gleefully. "Very well. But you're coming with me!" 

The procedure starts slowly, wisps of softly shining rainbow mist beginning to rise off the mad-woman's shattered form. Confusion flickers across her cracked and bleeding features, then emergent comprehension, then a kind of rebellious acceptance.  

"Remember," she begins, interrupting herself with a violent, blood-filled cough. "Remember my name. Some day, you'll run from the sound of it." 

What a nonsensical threat on which to waste her last words. I don't dignify it with a response, concentrating instead on the process of her demise. 

The minutes tick past and the mist becomes a cloud, suffusing her. Dawnika Snow doesn't turn blurry like Coxley did. Rather, she shrivels - then sharpens, hardening into a blindingly glowing crystalline rainbow form. Her dogged silence turns to a single, incoherent scream of terror and pain. Tendrils of Omnilium vapor form a spiral around us, casting the grasses, pond and hills in shades of brilliant prismatic sparks. Together my victim and I light the night more brightly than any star.

My former opponent’s scream rises even further, becoming a single perfect note, impossibly high - and then she shatters, bursting into a million shards of raw, radiant potential. They swirl majestically around me for several seconds, as though cautious - before diving into my body with a thunderous crack and merging seamlessly with my own Omnilium essence.

The night is dark again, silent, save for distant cries of alarm, both human and otherwise.

Within me, a cosmic furnace roars.

I'm nearly overwhelmed by a familiar feeling - a familiar potential, rising from the static of my internal astral storm. ]It's the same sensation I used to get while ensconced in my cosmic cocoon after I'd arrived on a planet, but before revealing my true glory. A greater form has awakened inside me, waiting only for my decision to ascend (which is a delightful word, crisp and clear, evocative of its meaning).

"Yes," I hiss. "Very, very helpful."

I close my eyes and bask in the stillness for a moment before I turn to go - immediately falling over, large black splotches invading my vision. I lie still until they're gone, growling softly. It seems that empowered or not, I'm still gravely injured.

Thankful that nobody is watching, I crawl dazedly up the road until I reach the lee of the dip in the hillside. Finding it suitable to my tastes, I decide to make a nest beside the pond, amid the roots of the broken tree.

Before I do anything else, I'm going to have to heal.