Chapter 11: The Dragon Dance
A black lightning storm erupted in the skies all over the planet Pandora, a world a hundred times the size of Earth. Yet underneath the rumble of this black lightning, the {50} continents of the big blue planet shook as though they were nothing. Everyone looked up to the sky, their eyes wide with fear, as they saw countless dark electric bolts shaped in the form of dragons—a psychological spectacle engineered by **Marcellus**.
But the true invasion was already underway.
In a horrifying, simultaneous global deployment, the 200} **Drakain hybrid warriors** crash-landed across the continents, guided by their father's mind-link commands. Leading the bloody vanguard were the four first-born hybrids—**One (Water), Two (Air), Three (Light), and Four (Fire)**—now ten thousand years old and towering \10} meters (32} ft) tall. They landed directly on major military encampments and primary food processing hubs.
The {10}-meter dragon **One**, Used its Earth Magic to **rupture the ground beneath a central mage academy**, burying hundreds of students alive before flooding the chasm with high-pressure water spells. **Four**, the fire affinity dragon, incinerated grain silos and military supply depots, plunging vast regions into famine and chaos. They were methodical, efficient, and unstoppable. A single hybrid warrior could rip through 10 mages, and 200} hybrids quickly turned structured resistance into terrified flight. The conquest was brutal, marked by the smell of ozone, scorched Earth, and blood.
As the Drakain ensured that no organized military force would survive the day, Marcellus made his grand entrance.
The black storm stopped, and a mile-wide black dragon appeared in the skies over the capital continent. The president of Pandora feasted his eyes on the monstrosity in the sky. A rumble of a voice came from the dragon's maw, a sound that shook the very foundation of the planet.
> **"I am the First Dragon, Marcellus. I am not here to stay. I am here to rule. Kneel to your extinction."**
Instantly, a lightning bolt shot toward the capital city. As it descended, it shrunk down to the second stage, and Marcellus, in his 6'10 dragonoid form, stood in front of the president. He let out a laugh, an electric sound crackling with dark energy that bolted toward the president's chest. The president, a powerful Archmage, could do nothing but watch as he died, his soul instantly leaving his body as his eyes went white and he hit his knees.
As soon as he fell, Marcellus bolted toward the body, grabbing the president's crown and throwing it to his nearest hybrid. He laughed again and bolted back to the sky in a flash of black lightning. He assumed his mile-and-a-half-wide body as he flew off into the cosmos, the entire continent below going up into a tornado of winds made by his monstrous wings and a **Tier 4 Air Spell** he named **The God's Breath**.
This day would always be known as the **Dragon Dance**, a name given by Serafina, who watched from the stars, laughing and saying, "Even though there was no dancing involved." The conquest was complete, a horrifying marriage of psychological warfare and brutal hybrid efficiency