Chapter 54

Warehouse District, 1600 Olympic Boulevard, Suite 100, Los Angeles, California, United States

As the sound of men yelling to each other in the warehouse echoed, Gen and her dragon waited in utter silence for the perfect moment to make their entrance. The plan was simple but also riddled with potential threats. Gen had never done anything like this—and she'd done a lot of crazy, rebellious things.

But the modern world posed many unknowns. And yet, she felt secure with a dragon unlike any other beneath her and a weapon full of potential in her pocket. She might not be the average hero but she was a relentless one and refused to feel any fear right then.

As a man below declared that the last of the stolen medieval artifacts had been unloaded from the vans, Gen slid off the side of her dragon. She was careful to not make a single noise as she backed into her place. Then she nodded her confirmation to Emperor, signaling that she was ready.

From the side of the rooftop, Gen watched as Emperor moved soundlessly into place, finding a seam in the metal. Having found the perfect spot, the dragon glanced at her from several yards away—a safe distance. The night covered him in a mystery that Gen relished, knowing he was about to become a nightmare for the thieves in the warehouse below them.

The purple dragon suddenly plunged his claws into the metal rooftop below them. The steel material shrieked in protest as Emperor's mighty hooks peeled it back like the lid of a tin can. Screams and commotion ripped through the air below as chaos broke out—no one knowing what was happening above them. Like playing a rude joke on their fragile beating hearts, the dragon's head descended through the opening he'd made. Gen could just picture his golden eyes gleaming with mischief as he uttered a single, terrifying word: "Boo."

Chaos erupted. Men shouted, their voices drowning in the discord of shattering glass and toppling crates. Emperor roared with what Gen knew was pure amusement. He lifted his head from the opening he'd made into the warehouse, creating a gaping chasm into the store of stolen treasures.

The dragon's jaws parted, releasing a blistering torrent of flames that encircled the perimeter, trapping the criminals inside a searing prison of their own making. The heat was oppressive, the air thick with the acrid tang of melting metal and singed hair. The turmoil and destruction that ensued was like flute and harp music to Gen's soul. Her heart warmed at the commotion that she and her dragon caused in only a few seconds, but she knew that she couldn't relish in it for long, since she needed to act fast while they had the advantage.

Gen, nimble as a cat, slipped from the opening that Emperor had made in the rooftop of the warehouse. She landed on a towering shelf that groaned beneath her weight. She leapt from level to level, the fragile wood crates splintering under her boots as she swung herself into the fray. Knowing that she couldn't chance her balance for long on any of the structures and with the momentum she was using, Gen didn't stay in place for long, moving fast.

Yet, in her fervor, a misstep sent her crashing into a shelf of artifacts, the sound of breaking history fueling her rage. Falling with much less grace than before, Gen found three men marching toward her, weapons in their hands. She surged forward, an embodiment of fury, and her hostility more lethal than the guns they held. At once, Gen flew into action, acting faster than the men could process.

Her strikes brought most of the attackers' attention in the warehouse onto her suddenly. How she'd upstaged the dragon, she didn't know—it must have been that fall from heaven when she thought she was an angel. Whatever she'd done, it had created a whirlwind that left her surrounded, the warehouse a coliseum with her at its heart.

Thankfully there was a dragon overhead who had Gen's back. The men on the ground took aim at what they thought was the more menacing threat, pulling the trigger at once, trying to bring down the hulking dragon.

Unfazed by the attempts to destroy or harm him, Emperor continued his relentless assault. With a flick of his tail, he sent a sheet of twisted metal flying, the improvised shield deflecting a hail of bullets that ricocheted back towards their shooters. The men screamed, diving for cover amidst the labyrinth of artifacts, their bravado shattered like the priceless relics that lay in ruins around them.

Below, Gen became the storm she rode in on. Her fists found their marks with savage precision, going after the men closest to her, attacking them by sheer association with the theft of these artifacts. Each of her blows was a testament to her unyielding resolve. The only time she paused or hesitated was when she worried that her assaults would endanger one of the treasures stationed all around them in crates and on shelves. She was simply surrounded by history and treachery.

Gen fought like a woman possessed, her body a blur of motion as she dodged and weaved through the chaos. A burly man, his face contorted with rage, caught her with a glancing blow, sending her careening into a stack of ancient vases. The delicate porcelain nearly tottered off the shelf where it was stationed.

However, Gen reached out with magic, freezing the object in mid-air and carefully lowering them to the ground. She paid for the rescue though when the man punched her across the face, sending her far across the floor, nearly tumbling over another crate of artifacts. Gen caught herself, anger surging through her veins, a white-hot fury that burned away the pain.

Above, chaos unfurled like a banner as Emperor encircled the warehouse with a ring of fire. He had created a living barrier that danced with hungry flames, licking the night air with tongues of fury. Bullets, desperate attempts at defiance, rained upwards, only to be met by a shield of torn metal, hoisted by Emperor's talon. The dragon roared with vengeance as the ammunition's futile echoes ricocheted back down to the ground, making the men below scatter and take shelter from their own attacks.

Emperor enjoyed playing jailer with the flames, keeping most of the thieves at bay. The few who managed to escape were quickly plucked from their futile run for freedom and tossed back into the warehouse with a gentleness contradicting his monstrous form. Each of the dragon's actions ensured none could escape the net closing around them.

With a roar that echoed Emperor's own, on the ground below, Gen surged forward. Her attacks were a vortex of skill and savagery. She leapt and spun, her limbs a blur as she took down her opponents one by one. But even as she fought, more men emerged from the shadows, their weapons glinting in the flickering light of Emperor's flames. Gen found herself surrounded, the weight of exhaustion pulling at her bones. She used magic when she needed it for survival to throw men back or dismantle their guns.

Emperor helped her out a few times, plucking a villain from behind her back before they knocked her out. However, they were quickly getting overrun and they both knew they couldn't hold out much longer. Hamilton Dixon might have been correct and they showed up for a fight that they couldn't win.

Just as despair began to creep into Gen's heart, the sound of sirens pierced the air. The thieves all around her froze. Their eyes widened. Fear filled every one of their faces. Fighting her was something they thought they could do. Defending themselves from the dragon was something they had to do. But fleeing the police, well, that was a brand new challenge.

Suddenly, no one was battling Gen, all of them racing for the exits. It was all too satisfying for dragon and rider when the thieves found their escape routes either blocked by fire or being intruded upon by the authorities.

The police stormed the building, their armor glinting like the scales of a great beast. They moved with practiced efficiency, their weapons trained on the criminals who cowered before them. Emperor, seeing the tide turning, ceased his assault, the flames dying away as quickly as they had come.

In the heart of the warehouse, Gen stood, bruised but unbroken, a warrior queen in a field of her conquered enemies. Around her, the remnants of battle lay scattered, the air heavy with the scent of victory and the bitter tang of damaged history. She'd protected most of the artifacts. And although they didn't know who exactly was behind this huge heist, they were much closer to answers with all these crooks being arrested. Answers would come. And then Gen and Emperor would get justice for the people of Los Angeles.

The chaos that had filled the warehouse turned to a strange bit of peace, like when the wind blows over a battlefield after the fight has been won. As the last of the thieves were handcuffed, Gen turned to Emperor. Their gazes met in silent acknowledgment of the storm they had weathered together, partners in a dance as old as time itself.