Chapter 17
Betty's Evil Obsession
Loon, now fully remembering his past, resumes his rampage, his body engulfed in flames. Billy, weakened by his stab wound, cannot intervene. Loon launches fiery diamond crystals. Billy, Lisa, Lori, and Kastor dodge, while Scott retreats. The red dragon telepathically urges Betty to tighten her grip on the Devil's Spear. As she complies, devilish power surges through her, transforming her. She grows a devil wing and two horns. In this new, demonic state, Betty unconsciously strikes Loon with overwhelming force, ending his rampage permanently.
The acrid scent of ozone and something far more ancient, like the dust of forgotten tombs, hung heavy in the air. Billy Rodrick, or Waterloo as the world knew him, coughed, a ragged sound that tore at his already bruised chest. The searing pain from Loon Unger’s final, desperate attack was a dull throb now, a constant reminder of his own limitations, of how close they had all come to utter annihilation. He tried to push himself up, his water-infused muscles screaming in protest. The glint of metal beneath him was his own discarded Sword of Slayers, its dark, swirling energies momentarily subdued, much like his own.
Beside him, Lisa Parkers, Blaze Z, was a whirlwind of frantic energy, her elastic form stretching and snapping as she dodged the last of Loon’s fiery debris. Her super speed was a blur, a testament to her unwavering loyalty, even when faced with such overwhelming devastation. Lori Pascallian and Kastor Campbell, their faces grim and streaked with grime, were helping to shield the retreating forms of Scott Wonders, who had wisely decided to maintain a safe distance from the unfolding inferno.
Loon the Unbeatable. The name itself had once struck terror into the hearts of many, but now, as he stood before them, a grotesque parody of his former self, he was a creature of pure, unadulterated rage. His body, once a shimmering facade of diamond, was now wreathed in flames, a hellish inferno that pulsed with a malevolent light. The memory of Russia, of the death match that had stolen his love and his sanity, had returned in a tidal wave, and with it, an insatiable thirst for destruction.
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