“You guys got this?” Elvis asked his fellow clones. Shade’s Mantle no longer covered their bodies. They had shaped everything ahead of them, creating spiky obstacles for the incoming foes.

“Yes,” El-Two said through gritted teeth, the recently-made magic dagger gripped tight in his hands. The blade appeared paler as if drawing on the magic within had drained its color. “You’re not leaving us, are you?”

Elvis nodded down the tunnel. “Bass can’t take off until he clears this place. And I don’t think he can recover his full strength or heal his legs while Penelope is in her current state.” He held up the enchanted hammer. “You guys aren’t going to stop those things. At most, the pikes will slow them before you’re overrun or the strain forces dispellment. I’m going to try to cause a collapse.”

“Are you mad?” El-Three demanded. “You’ll get Bass and El-Prime too.”

“We have to try.” Elvis shrugged, pointing at a series of pillars further up the tunnel. It seemed the Elder Wyrmkin had shaped stone to stabilize the area. The tremors and battle had cracked most and left them crumbling. “I’ll start from the ones closest to us. Maybe it’ll help control the collapse. If we do nothing, the odds of them getting caught are much higher.”

“Do your thing.” El-Four sighed. “I’m just glad we got the Three-Stage Spear in the bag. El-Prime would’ve been gutted losing it.”

“He’ll be bummed about losing these.” El-Two nodded at the dagger in his hands. “But. Magic Elvis can make it all again.”

“And look sexy as fuck while doing it,” El-Thee added, jaws clenched. He had the fewest spikes, but they were the longest and looked the most like burnt steel. “Get out of here. We got this.”

Magic Elvis nodded, taking off after Bass. The giant lion was favoring his right hind leg. Blood with an azure shimmer soaked the left. He somehow still managed to move at just over half his base speed. It wasn’t enough. The tunnel’s exit was still a long way away, and it would be even longer before he was able to stretch out his wings all the way and take flight.

High mass wasn’t great for long runs. The additional strength gave him the power for bursts of acceleration, but it was difficult to maintain because of all the additional weight. Moving swiftly also drained him more than any other activity. Cover Weaknesses had helped overcome part of the weakness, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Magic Elvis was sure that whatever other upgrades Lukas had picked up from upgrading Alter Mass would only make things harder.

As Magic Elvis advanced, he heard the cries and roars of monsters throwing themselves on the metal spikes. They were faster than he expected. He had estimated it would take at least another half minute before they reached the other clones. He pushed harder, breathing ragged and his lungs struggling.

Undoing the clasps across his shoulders helped. The breastplate fell away, along with the shield strapped to his back. When compared to his total current weight, the difference wasn’t much, but it still helped. The vambraces went next, but he didn’t slow enough to deal with the lower body armor pieces.

The loot better be good. El-Prime is going to be bummed about losing all of these investments. Or maybe he’ll just be happy to be alive.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

By the time Magic Elvis reached his destination, two out of his three fellow clones had fallen. The third had turned himself into a giant porcupine, but half of his spikes had lost turgidity. It wouldn’t surprise him if the magic shell collapsed within a handful of seconds. Trial and error had taught them that death and dispellment weren’t the only way for them to go. Pushing their arcane techniques and spells to the point of depleting personal magic stores made their spells destabilize and turn into fuel.

He focused on the task at hand. The clones had done their job—sacrificing themselves to protect El-Prime and see the mission completed. Now, it was his turn to do the same. “It was fun making you,” Magic Elvis whispered, gripping the hammer with both hands. “I promise to make another you.” He adopted a balanced stance, ready to put everything he had into his next blow. “A better you.”

It seemed the Elder Wyrmkin hadn’t built as many supports for their tunnel as much as uncovered part of the existing architecture. Magic Elvis couldn’t tell if it was all part of some ancient underground complex built to house the slumbering silver serpent or if some part of the old Iskander history had been forgotten. Sections of stone looked molten and warped, as if someone had melted ambient materials into slag and used it to patch damage and stabilize the structure. Magic Elvis targeted one such bit.

“Frar!” He swung with all of his might. The burst of speed from all of the stored power and the combined spell added to the impact enchantment Kwame had inscribed. Magic Elvis didn’t just crack the pillar. He swung through it, shattering stones and sending shrapnel everywhere. It buckled, and he got out of the way just in time to avoid chunks of the crumbling pillar.

It had set off a chain reaction as he had hoped. Cracks also spread through the next pillar as ceiling's stability faltered. Magic Elvis raced onward and struck it, too. The hammer’s energy was spent, and it would take far too long for the magic to recover, but that didn’t matter. He had already thrown the equilibrium off balance. Magic Elvis only needed to keep pushing to ensure all the dominoes came down.

By the time he reached the third pillar, he could hear the individual snapping of jaws and claws on stone. The creatures were almost upon him. Only pillar segments had fallen. All he had done so far was create a handful of obstacles, which was nothing to monsters that excelled at climbing and leaping.

The swarm reached the first pillar. Up close, they looked like mutated troglodytes but featured strong reptilian features. They looked flimsy and weak. But the numbers would inevitably overwhelm just about anyone.

Magic Elvis struck the fifth pillar. His muscles burned, and the Haste spell faltered out. He didn’t have much left in him. A second strike expanded the cracks. A third got chunks to rain from above. The beasts were at the third pillar when he landed the next blow.

A monstrous chunk of ceiling fell just beyond the first pillar, crushing a chunk of the swarm. The creatures didn’t slow. They found paths over, under, and around the obstacle. Fortunately, it was enough to start the collapse. More pieces of the ceiling fell, burying all but the frontrunners of the swarm and cutting off the primary path to the silver serpent. It was likely that the trembling and collapse would also bury the other path, or so Magic Elvis hoped.

Stone fell behind him, too, blocking off his escape path. A pair of the mutants reached Magic Elvis. He put two down with ease despite his tiredness, then a third leaped onto him. It bit his shoulder, but thanks to the toughness of Alter Mass, the injury wasn’t too deep. He threw himself into a nearby wall. Crunches and cracks followed as bones broke between his hardened body and the stone surface.

Unfortunately, there were half a dozen more. Even if any escape route remained, it was unlikely Magic Elvis was going to make it out. Instead, he prioritized taking as many as possible with him. It was Magic Elvis and the persona of Elvis’s last stand. El-Prime had declared that they were no longer going to be twins. He wanted to be an only child for the time being. It made no sense for a second Zaun brother to exit the undercity.