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Ingrid through the streets of Venice Beach, I would’ve told myself to be careful what I wished for. But I never would’ve believed that giant flying dragons had ever been real. And yet here was an entire fallen civilization devoted to them, and from what I’d seen of Zalaxia so far, I was inclined to accept as fact that yes, flying Zalaxian dragons were indeed real and possibly not extinct, based on how the Bombshells and Colonel Sadys had talked about them.

“Wow,” I chortled in disbelief, chills running up my spine. “Freaking dragons.”

I could feel myself smiling from ear to ear.

“This is sick!” I snorted to myself. “I have to show the Bombshells.”

I suddenly wished I had my smart phone with me so I could take pictures and show Oia, Venus, Cygna, and Sirius, but I’d lost my phone back on Earth when I’d first turned into Mega Beast and shredded my clothes to ribbons.

Could I take pictures with my power armor? If not, I could probably use my rings to store visual images, right?

Hey, ring? Take a picture of whatever I’m looking at and store it.

I positioned my gaze to take in both the big dragon statue and the oval bowl of the amphitheater, framing the shot as best I could.

Ring, show the results in a HUD window.

Sure enough, a reduced-size panoramic 3D image appeared in the corner of my HUD.

I could see it, but no one else could.

Ring, can you project the image in the air above my hand?

Springing from both rings and floating above my hands was a bright, high-resolution 3D image better than any holographic image I’d ever seen on Earth. I couldn’t wait to show the Bombshells back at the outpost.

Now that I had a camera worked out, I went around snapping more photos of the oval amphitheater and shooting some video as well. My rings could capture both with equal ease.

Since I could fly, I couldn’t resist the urge to get a closer look at the towering dragon statue. I hovered around it taking closeup photos of the stonework. Definitely not concrete. This was cut stone. It reminded me of Mount Rushmore, only better. The quality of this craftsmanship was so precise, whoever had carved this dragon could give lessons to Gutzon Borglum. He was the sculptor who had made Mount Rushmore a reality — with help from his huge team of craftsmen and laborers, of course. By comparison, the size of this dragon was so gigantic, you would have to add full bodies to the heads of Mount Rushmore if you wanted those four US Presidents to compete with this lone dragon for size.

Unbelievable.

I hovered up to the top of the dragon’s scaly stone head and touched down on its long snout to get a bird’s eye view of the surrounding area, hoping I might be able to discern any other temple structures beyond the oval amphitheater. When I had done my earlier stone scan from the far side of the broken bridge with my rings, I had seen a lot more than just this amphitheater. It was possible an entire ruined city lay beyond. It was also possible I was the first person to discover this place. Call me California Pittwell, intergalactic archeological adventurer.

Gazing out at the dark jungle landscape surrounding the amphitheater — enhanced by my low-light vision — I shook my head in disbelief at the magnificent grandeur of this place.

Wow, what a view.

I felt like the king of the world up here.

This was exactly the feeling you hoped for when you went on some adventure vacation and finally saw firsthand some world wonder you’d dreamed of visiting for years, but thought maybe you’d never get to see.

Yet here I was, taking it all in.

Finally enjoying a moment of peaceful relaxation.

Suddenly—

Booming behind me, the loudest voice I’d ever heard:

“WHO DARES DESECRATE THE EDIFICE OF QUEEN SHEEBA?!”

The sound was so loud it nearly knocked me off the dragon’s statuary head.

I spun around just in time to see an immense black shadow swooping toward me on a collision course to either impale me or knock me flying into outer space.

My body tensed in anticipation of the inevitable and unavoidable.

Oh…

SHIT!

—: Chapter 116 :—

I dove away from the swooping shadow, sailing out over open air 150 meters above the top level of the amphitheater below. The drop was even farther to the very bottom where the seats met the stage. Gravity grabbed me in its deadly grip. If not for my rings, I would’ve plummeted to my death and bounced down the oval rows of amphitheater seating, breaking every bone along the way.

But I did have my rings.

And I damn sure wasn’t letting someone get the best of me a second time tonight.

While slowing my fall with a POSITION vector, I blew myself up to triple Mega Beast size. Rage flooded my rippling veins and bulging muscles. I grimaced with feral purpose as I shot backward and away from my attacker and spun around to face it.

“WHO DARES DEFILE MY DOMAIN?!” roared the freaking dragon that was rocketing toward me and beating its powerful wings. In the low light of night, it was impossible to tell the color, but it was a deadly dark streak, as terrifying as it was impressive.

“Sheeba?!” I blurted in confusion, remembering this dragon had said the name Sheeba a moment ago. I also remembered that Hydra the outpost mainbrain had told me Sheeba was the legendary Mother of Zalaxia, whatever that was. Hydra had also said, jungle tribeswomen like Violet believed the legend. Sheeba was also one of the technical terms in the error messages the True Ring gave me every time I attempted unsuccessfully to use it to stop or control time. Was it possible this was Sheeba?

“DO NOT FOUL HER GREAT NAME WITH YOUR UNDESERVING TONGUE!” The dragon’s words suggested he or she wasn’t Sheeba. It was impossible to tell the dragon’s gender from the roaring timbre of its voice. There was nothing feminine about it,

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