The Gentleman ran in from the side and used a mechanical gauntlet on his right arm to fire a repeating blast of energy.
Drocha was hit and thrown into rubble from the Renn Tech building. He rebounded quickly, grabbing a massive chunk of concrete and throwing it at The Gentleman. No sooner had the concrete left his hand did he turn and called a strange force of gravity to flatten The Avenger to the ground.
“This is child’s play. Hardly any effort, heroes.” Drocha taunted them.
Clearly, he was suffering more than he expected. The shock of each hit was apparent in his eyes. Nova’s orders to keep the corrupted spheres had paid off. In this fight, the heroes felt stronger if they had them. But it still didn’t seem enough to completely bring him down.
Tri-Blade came flying down as he threw both of his enchanted daggers at the floating box that was currently uploading the massive AI program to the ship above.
A wave of energy sent the daggers flying away, and Drocha quickly flew toward Tri-Blade, grabbing the hero by the neck and throwing him against the ground in a hard slam.
“Now, now. Let’s not mess with Daddy’s office. Kids should play with their own toys.” He flicked his arms out, and a series of energy blasts in the shape of knives rained down on Tri-Blade.
An eggshell covered Tri-Blade. The energy knives stuck into it one by one until it exploded. EB rushed in at his typical blinding speed and threw a barrage of his exploding eggs at Drocha. “DODGE THAT YOU ARROGANT MUTANT!”
Drocha blocked the first ten, but the three hundred that followed nailed him with an endless series of minor explosions. He crashed into the side of the box of his office and then hit the ground.
“HE’S DOWN! KILL THAT BOX THINGY!” EB yelled and began throwing his eggs at the box.
The heroes all targeted the same place and threw everything they had at it. An energy barrier flickered and buzzed.
The Avenger called out, “It can’t last forever.” He poured as much energy as he could into destroying Drocha’s box.
A massive eruption from the ground sent hundreds of chunks of concrete at the heroes. That was followed by a massive wave of energy that pressed them all to the ground. Drocha, dripping with greenish-yellow blood, rose into the air. His wounds were healing before their eyes as he hovered in the air, his hands controlling the gravity force pressing them into the dirt.
“Legion tech has withstood eons before this world had civilization. You think a few blasts of your pitiful power can stop me?” He flew toward them, still pressing them down. “Do you know the endgame? The reason for Legion? We never conquered worlds; we destroyed them. We sought only the most powerful to join our ranks. But that was not the end goal. Building a legion of elites loyal to a leader is hardly desirable if the result is all civilization across the universe burns. No, Drocha, my creator, had a vision. It was Drocha who discovered the true power of the morphons. How that these particles gave incredible strength and unique abilities to those deemed worthy. But the avatars, the gods of the morphons, refused to let him become a god among them. So, Drocha used his incredible power, his brilliant mind, to craft corrupted, twisted morphons. Using them, he would develop a new pantheon of power. Drocha would bless his generals, and those he deemed worthy would rule this universe as a new heavenly realm. Drocha would rule as supreme god, and his avatars of the corrupt morphons would reign over all mortals. We would crush the inferior avatars and dominate. That, my dear fools, is what our goal remains.”
Tri-Blade gagged out, “Why are you... telling us... this?”
Drocha drew closer to him and said, “Because, for some reason, the avatars gave your race powers. You didn’t have to beg or barter or corrupt anything. You harness the power that Drocha desired for eons. And yet you treat it as nothing. You are undeserving. This world is a blight in the eyes of the true god that will rule the cosmos.”
At that moment, Santa’s sleigh flew by. A sword hit Drocha across his midsection, leaving a long bloody gash that oozed yellow. Drocha went face down, his blood spilling across the ground.
Santa jumped out of the sleigh and landed near Drocha’s fallen body, his sword ready for more. He said, “This world was chosen because they have honor and compassion, something that the almighty Drocha never understood.”
The Gentleman rose to his feet, taking deep breaths. “You... you beat him.”
EB hopped up and down. “Of course he did. Santa is AWESOMESAUCE!”
Santa stood back as Drocha’s broken body rose, the gash in his chest slowly mending itself. Santa readied for an attack. “This is far from over. His powers are unstable and beyond any of you right now. I will keep him busy. Destroy that box before it finishes the upload.”
Drocha stood before Santa, glaring at him with his empty eyes. “You know you cannot stop me.”
Santa readied his weapon. “I don’t have to; I just need to keep your attention.”
Drocha turned to go after the heroes again when Santa attacked him with his sword. Drocha jumped back and grabbed the lower half of a lamppost, swinging it to counter. He met each of Santa’s strikes.
Santa struck Drocha’s improvised sword and pushed down on the villain. With a wicked smile, Santa said, “Having trouble countering my strength?”
Drocha struggled against Santa’s might. He growled at Santa, “You will succumb; everyone does.”
“You harness your false morphons to counter the power of morphons in the heroes. We Vexillians don’t use Morphons for power, which was why we were so hard to fight.”
Drocha purposely fell back and twirled on the ground to avoid Santa’s strike. With a hard swing, he hit Santa’s legs and toppled the old general. Drocha flipped up onto his feet and held the post above his head for a hard strike. “If I recall, Vexillia fell.” He swung down like a hammer to hit Santa in the head.
An exploding egg hit the post just in time to knock it away. EB rushed over and hit Drocha with five eggs that exploded into gummy goo that acted like inflating bubble gum, which messed with his ability to move his limbs for a moment.
“Vexillia remains while we still live, you piece of Legion trash!” EB ran to Santa, who was getting to his feet. “You okay?”
“I’ve been better. Seven centuries are taking their toll on this old general.”
EB smiled and conjured an egg in each paw. “We can take him.”
Santa looked up at Drocha, who was now preparing for the next round. “No. We can’t.”
Drocha laughed, “Giving up so quickly. Afraid you can’t defeat me?”
Santa shook his head. “We can’t defeat you.”
“WHAT?” EB gasped.
Santa smiled. “But he can.”
A giant sword jammed into Drocha’s chest from behind and was shoved until the hilt touched his back.
Nova stood behind him, glowing bright eyes, and wings on his back. He whispered into Drocha’s ear. “This world is protected.”
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