FINALLY, ABOUT THREE hours after dawn, The Prayer’s knobby knees buckled.
The lanky creature crumbled to the ground.
“Enough!” it cried.
I hovered six feet in front of his face. I know mantids have incredible eyesight. So it could probably see the huge garbage-eating grin on my fuzzy face.
But then it did something I should have expected.
It materialized an Opus 24/24.
The weapon whined, signaling that it was fully charged. The Prayer aimed the thing at me.
He was going to swat a fly with a bazooka blast.
I could dodge the shot, but the shockwave would send out thermal waves of incredible turbulence, making the air impossible for me to navigate through.
So I decided to fight fire with fire.
I could’ve materialized my own Opus 24/24 and blasted him before he blasted me. But I had something better in mind.
“Wait!” I squeaked in a tiny fly voice as I made the switch back to my own body.
“You’ve obviously won,” I said. “Let me make this easy for you.”
I raised both my arms and opened them wide, giving The Prayer an easy shot at my heart.
“This is the first smart move you have made, Danny Boy. I will make your death swift and clean, yet excruciatingly painful.”
I just grinned. “Go for it.”
I saw him twist a knob. The weapon’s molecular resonator wailed a shrill, high-pitched squeal that kept screeching higher and higher.
I zoomed my eyes in on Number 1’s trigger pincer.
“Say hello to your mommy and daddy for me on the other side, Danny Boy!”
The serrated limb budged back half a millimeter.
I instantly threw time into superslow mo so I’d have half a second to materialize my weapon: a four-by-four sheet of extremely reflective and totally impenetrable adamantite, a rare green metal found only in the mines on the planet Ramdon Nine.
The adamantite shield would block my body. It also fit perfectly in my outstretched hands.
I let go of my grip on time. The Opus 24/24 exploded with a deafening roar.
A plasma pulse of pure, blue-white pain erupted from its muzzle. I felt it hammer into my adamantite shield, making it shimmy. But then the pulse ricocheted off the adamantite and rebounded onto The Prayer.
Number 1 squealed in shock and agony. He had just shot himself in the foot. All six of them.
He collapsed on his brittle back. I heard a snapping crackle and then the muffled sound of squishy splats. I figured the giant’s internal organs were turning into mush. For a moment, its spindly legs kicked helplessly at the air as it writhed in horrendous pain.
Because Number 1 had just taken on itself all the pain and hurt it had meant to send my way.
It’s why the reflecting shield was a better idea than any weapon I could have possibly conjured up.
I knew that The Prayer, cruelest monster to ever set crooked foot on planet Earth, would crank up the pain resonator in that godforsaken weapon all the way to its Level 11: Eternal Damnation.
That’s why the monster was now dying the worst death its own twisted mind could ever have imagined.