A long, sharp metal rod pierces the atmosphere, nearly leaving a shockwave from the source of firing. The resonating sound lingers in my ears, intensifying my headache.


    A hooded archer sits not far from the large barrier, leaning backward on an artificial tilted pillar that resembles a shield made of dirt, fragments, and small rocks—everything you can find at the meeting of the borders of a dense coniferous forest and the lunar landscape. It gives the archer perfect leverage for drawing the bow, molded for his back, tilted at the precise angle.


    The thick sound that radiates quickly over the area from the release of the arrow produces enough energy to blow off some fragments from it. The smallest particles are now still sliding down from its surface. Few of them are spread towards me, I cover my eyes instinctively.


    Shot failed to deliver.


    The black metal rod disintegrates into tiny filings upon contact with the barrier. The archer opens his eyes wide, gasping for air in disbelief, ignoring me, focused only on his goal. The arrow disintegrating like this has never happened before. I’m in shock as well, standing farther away, watching it.


    For a brief moment, I think I’m back home and that all this is just a wild dream. Then I catch myself in the middle of the action, recognizing everything yet frozen, just watching.


    The particles from the pillar supporting the archer''s back slowly heal themselves. Dirt from close proximity to the archer levitates, rejoining the pillar’s damaged surface and flattening it. This leaves the archer sitting in a clean circle, without any loose particles or dirt. Without further hesitation, he reloads.


    Leaning with his back on the pillar, his legs wide open, he pushes against the huge bow, which is almost at ground level and tilted to a horizontal position. His tall leather boots lock it in place. Both of his arms hold the bowstring. The wind blowing out from the target makes his loose dark green hood blow backward, revealing dense, thick hair.


    His only heavily armored pieces are the gauntlets.


    Pointy fingers, scaled surface. The material is rough with a significant texture. Pitch-black metal, resembling no single material produced on Earth. As his fingers move, so do the scales on the gauntlets, reflecting the lightning storm greatly.


    A never-ending storm rages over the lunar landscape. Small and large, lightning of all sizes flashes, making the overall scene dramatic. The wind, not alone in making noise, blows through the dense tree crowns, bending them. Loud rumbling thunder strikes the surface, hauntingly echoing through the area. Each thunderbolt whips gray soil and dust into the atmosphere. This never-ending storm has turned the area within the barrier into a lunar landscape. Not a single living thing is in sight beside the behemoth wyvern. The archer struggles to pull the bowstring of a massive bow, seemingly made of the same material as his gloves.


    I can tell he is pushing himself beyond his limits. The archer now practically lies on the ground, shifted from his pillar of rubble while his own body forms the skeleton of a crossbow. His bow is still empty; there is no arrow inside, just the bowstring spread wide.


    What the heck is he doing? Both of his legs are wide open, bracing over the bow, and both of his hands are pulling the bowstring without an arrow. How is he going to reload?


    I don’t recognize any of this.


    Before I can even understand what he''s trying to achieve, the second bracelet on his right forearm starts to glow purple, matching the first. Beside the archer sits a ceramic vase with two leather strips and a ceramic lid.


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    From the vase, a dark cloud of particles begins to emerge, forming into a black rod exactly where the arrow should be. The archer is concentrating to the maximum level. Sweat drips from his face into his mouth, his lips wide open, teeth clenched.


    Release


    A ring of mist appears with a loud echo on the spot, and a thick air projectile hits the archer''s back, blowing his cape off. It seems to have broken the sound barrier.


    I cover my right eye and press my forehead as the migraine hits, darkening my vision. Wiping the sweat away, I notice the inner fabric of my gauntlet is soaked with blood. I have to grab a nearby tree to keep my balance. My blood pressure must be sky-high; it feels like my head is about to explode and push my eyes out of my skull.


    The archer passes out from the shot, hitting his own pillar. The pillar that once supported his back disintegrates into particles, which roll down in all directions and cover his face.


    The metal rod pierces the air and finally hits the barrier again. About one-third of it gets through and falls inside the barrier onto the gray dusty surface. The rest of the arrow that didn’t make it through disintegrates into black dust, sliding slowly down the outer side of the curved wall.


    This triggers an unwelcome surprise. The giant wyvern, covered in ash and dust, starts to move. Its huge claws pound the ground, complementing the thunder.


    One lightning bolt hits the wyvern as it sprints toward the archer. It strikes the dragon over its back with a loud thud. While its petrified body resists the shock, the electricity disintegrates into small shockwaves that move from the top of the dragon''s body down and diminish into the ground. The impact strength of the shot does little to the wyvern; it limps to the side but recovers instantly.


    The dragon opens its large mouth full of dirty teeth, resembling more stalagmites than actual teeth, with the texture and color of stone. I don’t know what to expect. Will it simply run through the barrier and attack physically? I wonder, observing its giant paws that could easily stomp a large car. As the dragon moves, its stomps are as loud as thunder; the earth shakes, and I grab onto a nearby young tree.


    *Bang*


    A loud shot echoes from a distance. But this one is different; that''s not a bow. Something made it through the barrier. I see veins of yellow light coming from the impact and a few pieces like glass shards are falling out, leaving a hole in its curved wall. The veins drag from the hole in a diameter large enough to reveal the size of the barrier.


    It is a dome. A dome as large as the whole area where the storm occurs and the wyvern roams. I’m not sure if the dragon took a hit, but I know what will happen next; its offense begins. The wide mouth opens even wider, and its eyes start to glow yellow. The mist and dust surrounding the wyvern hint at the temperature of its yellow eyes. Ripples from the burning air surround them.


    From its throat, a huge beam of energy forms and strikes forward. Its diameter is about the same as the neck of the beast. The golden beam shines through the whole area, lighting it up. It is continuous and lasts for a few seconds before shutting off. The sound it makes is literally badass. I can feel the resonation in my chest, the pulse, and the energy it produces; that power is tremendous. Together with the thunder and rumbling, I’m terrified, yet hyped like a kid.


    But not for long.


    Apparently, it penetrated the dome, and I finally witness the aftermath. I see the torso of the archer sitting on the ground, leaning toward the remains of his pillar. The head and upper part of the torso are missing. The wounds are cauterized by the heat. Is this the first time I’ve seen exposed flesh? It looks so surreal, like the laser beam didn’t burn it but cooked it. The leftover corpse looks like it was made of wax.


    What the hell? I should be shaking and panicking, but I’m not. Who was this brave archer? I ask myself. Confused, I look at my hands and over my body.


    How come I never noticed I’m wearing plate armor? In delirium, looking around, the mighty wyvern interrupts me with its second roar. The epic charging sound resonates through the area once again. I focus my sight on the brightest spot.


    The same golden beam surrounded by sparks and electricity strikes farther from the archer’s area. I believe that’s where the second projectile came from. As the mighty wyvern annihilates everything in its path with the laser beam, my body reflexively throws me away to dodge the attack. As the dragon''s head moves from left to right, the beam destroys all the fauna and flora in its way, expanding the destruction of life. The place where the archer’s leftover corpse was is unrecognizable.


    “Markus! What the hell are you waiting for!” hisses an angry yet hushed voice.