[center][h1][color=lightblue]Donnie[/color][/h1]
Word Count: 566
EXP: (14/60) + 4 (Overdrive) = [b]18/60[/b]
[/center]


And as the last crystal fell and Vivi disappeared, Donnie watched as his allies piled on top of the dragon. Donnie had an idea of what he was going to do.

Xuen’s teachings, ever since his loss to and imprisonment by the Mogu Emperor, ever since he had learned [i]patience,[/i] were on when violence should be applied and when alternative methods should be sought. And one of those teachings dictated the removal of an opponent’s advantages.

If, it was said, violence cannot be avoided, an enemy may be willing to yield after being weakened, especially if their strengths are removed. And allowing an opponent to surrender was always the honorable choice.

The Ender Dragon, unfortunately, posed a threat merely by being one of Galeem’s Guardians. By the very fact that it drew breath, it enslaved the minds of the people. Its body was a localized nexus for Galeem’s power to flow through, to be distributed upon the inhabitants of the Land of Adventure.

The same principle, however, applied. Rather than seek to eliminate a foe as quickly as possible, support one’s allies and remove the opponent’s advantage.

And what was the key advantage a dragon had over their enemies? It wasn’t size, nor strength, nor claw or fang or magic.

It was flight.

Flight allowed a dragon to fry their enemies from the skies, dive from the heavens whenever they pleased, increase their speed such that they could avoid ranged attacks through sheer velocity.

Against an aerial opponent, always seek to bring them crashing down to the earth, even if you yourself could fly. If you could not fly, you were equal. If you could fly and no-one else could, then flight became [i]your[/i] advantage over the enemy.

And so, Donnie flew above the Dragon, gripping the stick tightly even as it dropped a sea of acid on the island below.

This would be a difficult shot. His eyes narrowed. His breath stopped. He focused intently, like a marksman attempting to assassinate a tyrant.

He knew how fast these Boom Biters moved: Slightly slower than the average cannonball. It was no machine-gun, but it was fast enough for what he needed. As the dragon dashed forward, he lined up the arc not with where it was, but where it was going to be. 

He squeezed the trigger ten times, rock-solid piloting skills and nerves of steel from a long career making sure the recoil didn’t make him miss.

The ten Boom Biters sailed through the air in a parallel series of arcs, moving from left to right across the dragon’s body.

The first shot would hit the dragon at the end of its left wing. The second in the center of its left wing. The third in where the left wing met the body. The fourth, fifth, and sixth across its back, near its kidneys and spine. The seventh where the right wing met the body. The eighth in the center of the right wing. The ninth at the tip of the right wing. And the tenth...well, screw it, [i]that[/i] one was aimed for the back of its neck. Linkle had the head covered.

The Boom Biters were launched within milliseconds of each other. The system could barely keep up with how fast Donnie was firing.

When it was done, he let out the breath he’d been holding. 

[i]Please, dear Light let this work,[/i] he thought.