Chapter 149: The Dragon Soldiers
The sky over Paris, already darkened by the smoke from previous fires, was stained with an unhealthy crimson. The air vibrated with electrical tension, as if the atmosphere itself sensed the impending horror. The dimensional portals, those violet gashes in the fabric of reality, now pulsed with a bloodied glow.
- "Activate the secondary portals immediately. Release the true army. Phase two of the invasion activated."
The disembodied voice resonated through the control room with metallic coldness. Each word seemed to embed itself in the vitiated air like so many death sentences for humanity.
Mordred remained frozen for a few moments, an icy shiver running down his spine. Nausea twisted his entrails while his fingers grew numb. He knew this phase. He knew exactly what would emerge from the portals. The creatures released until now were nothing but cannon fodder, sacrificed to exhaust human defenses. Disposable pawns in a cosmic chess game. This new wave, however, would seal the world’s fate.
Without a word, he exchanged a heavy look with Ygdrasyle. His companion’s face remained impassive, but his obsidian eyes reflected unprecedented gravity. A silent understanding passed between them – the point of no return had been reached.
Together, they activated the capsules one last time. Under their fingers, the controls seemed to burn with an invisible fire, as if each gesture further consumed a part of their soul. The energy around them crackled, charged with malevolent intentions.
A blood-red light exploded from the dimensional portals, so intense that it projected their distorted shadows against the metallic walls. This time, the air became unbreathable, heavy with a metallic smell of fresh blood mixed with suffocating effluvia of sulfur and putrefied flesh. The temperature rose brutally, beading cold sweat on Mordred’s brow.
Immense scarlet forms emerged slowly from the portals, unfolding in all their horror like carnivorous flowers opening to devour the sun. Red dragons with scales thick as tank armor, bristling with bony spikes oozing a greenish corrosive liquid. Their membranous wings, traversed by pulsing veins, stretched several meters, casting deathly shadows on the ravaged ground. Their immense claws, carved to shred flesh and steel with equal ease, clacked against the concrete, digging smoking furrows. In their gaping maws, lined with razor-sharp fangs like daggers, forked tongues frantically writhed, tasting the air charged with terror. Their reptilian eyes, vertical slits of an unhealthy yellow gleaming with cruel intelligence, scrutinized their surroundings with military precision.
Even these soldiers, these so-called "minor" dragons, possessed terrifying power that immediately placed them beyond the reach of human hunters. Each creature embodied a cataclysm unto itself, capable of reducing an entire district to ashes in a few wing beats.
Mordred felt his mouth go dry at the spectacle. The creatures fixed their gaze on him for a moment, their slit pupils dilating slightly in recognition, before turning toward their objective. Without hesitation, the dragons swooped down on the city, cleaving the air with a deafening tearing sound.