Page 63 of Fire's Storm
Yet the warriors' superior strength creates genuine danger. Their coordinated attacks gradually overwhelm her. Their combined approach progressively threatens her safety.
Primitive rage builds inside me. Dragon instinct responding to mate endangerment. Primal impulse reacting to her distress.
My storm signature intensifies. Electrical discharge crackles around my form. Lightning strikes with increasing frequency, hitting with random destruction.
Control slips away. Disciplined restraint yielding to protective instinct. Scales emerge across my exposed skin. Wings partially form despite physical limitations. Claws extend from transformed hands.
This is their objective. Control disruption. Restraint failure. Discipline collapse.
Just like the Solstice Gathering. Just like so long ago when I lost everything.
I'm about to prove them right. About to confirm every accusation they've ever made against me.
Then Phoenix's voice cuts through the rage.
I am your eye, you are my storm.
Her words slice through the fog of rage. Simple statement. Profound significance.
The phoenix keeps flying during storms. See the lightning as arrows in your quiver, not wild forces beyond direction.
The imagery resonates. Visualization creates structure. Metaphor establishes a framework.
Scattered electrical discharges consolidate under renewed direction. Diffuse atmospheric pressure concentrates under restored guidance.
I feel her in my mind. Not just her voice—her essence. Her strength. Her certainty.
We stand amid chaos. Physical separation overcome through mental closeness.
I channel my protective rage through disciplined application. Emotional energy directed. Instinctive power guided.
Lightning responds to my control. Electrical discharges strike specific targets with surgical precision. Energy bolts hit particular opponents with tactical accuracy.
Wind patterns follow my will—air currents forming protective barriers around Phoenix, atmospheric movements creating defensive shields.
Most importantly, holding my control proves them wrong. I channel my power with precision despite their attempts to provoke me. I direct the energy exactly where I choose, no matter how fiercely my instincts demand otherwise.
The warriors targeting Phoenix falter and retreat, their plan unraveling. What they expected doesn’t happen. What they counted on fails.
Time to show them what controlled power actually means,Phoenix's voice whispers in my mind.
I respond with immediate agreement. We establish a synchronized approach. Physical coordination expressing a deeper connection.
Phoenix provides a tactical framework—precision direction offering regulation possibility. Simultaneously, she engages physically with growing confidence—her electrical abilities manifesting with increasing strength.
A warrior approaches with capture nets designed for supernatural restraint. Phoenix responds with concentratedelectrical discharge—focused current targeting the metallic components. The net erupts in blue-white sparks before falling useless to the ground.
Joy and pride surge through me at her growing power. My female is becoming formidable. My dragon half roars in approval.
I implement power application alongside her display. Massive energy follows tactical direction. Our counterattack demonstrates a perfect complementary function—her tactical precision with my raw power.
Lightning strikes coordinated targets with surgical precision. Wind barriers become offensive weapons—atmospheric pressure forming concussive waves with non-lethal intention.
The warriors fall one after another. Elite fighters collapsing. Trained soldiers dropping. Controlled application proves superior to a greater numerical advantage.
Five warriors lie unconscious amid stabilized weather. Controlled electrical discharge has temporarily disabled their nervous systems.
The sixth opponent remains standing. Leadership position evident through distinctive markings. Command responsibility apparent via specialized insignia.
