Mod Superhero - STUBBING AUG 17TH!

Chapter 7.82 - Paragon 3 / Round 2

Mod's body dissolved. The nanites seeped into the silty lunar ground.

For a moment, Paragon thought about using his laser vision and blasting away as much of the mass as he could. But there was no way he could destroy all the tiny machines. Besides, he was exhausted.

Paragon lowered himself to the ground and stood, taking pride that he didn't fall to his knees from exhaustion. His vision swam and his muscles felt like they were on fire. Paragon breathed shallow, his power manifesting air even when there wasn't any. He winced at the stabbing pain in his side. Some of his ribs were probably broken.

The moon trembled beneath him.

He hadn't fought like that in...He couldn't remember. Gods, even when he was a child in the training rings, he'd never fought like that. For brief moments, Paragon hadn't been sure he would win. The cyborg hadn't reacted at all, no matter how hard Paragon had struck. His face had been cold and determined, more a force of nature than a man. It wasn't until the very end, when Mod's body was giving out, that he finally showed any outward signs at all.

For the second time that day, Paragon had known fear.

But he was victorious. That was the important part.

Seconds passed, and all Paragon could do was catch his breath and roll his aching shoulders. His body would heal in time, but he had no idea how long. It would probably be hours, maybe even days before his broken ribs would heal.

Paragon looked up at Earth and the dark rings that encompassed it. That was the real problem, and it loomed large in the sky. He needed a plan, and at least a few minutes to recover...

Only then did register Mod's final words.

"This one does."

What did that mean? Paragon turned the words over. Mod had dissolved, just like he did back on Earth. Had there been a piece of glass there too at the end? Yes, there had been—Paragon was sure of it now.

"Damn," he muttered. If Mod had more bodies... No—Paragon refused to believe it. If Mod had more bodies, he would've used them—would've let the AI pilot them. It either took time for Mod to swap to a new body, or he needed to build more.

Paragon shuddered. He wasn't looking forward to fighting Mod again—he never would have admitted that, but there was less weight on the moon and no one was listening...

The moon trembled beneath him. Paragon froze. He'd felt that tremor before. At the time, he thought it was their battle causing aftershocks across the moon.

He was wrong.

The moon was still trembling. It felt like a weak earthquake, but Paragon could sense that it wasn't coming from nearly as deep.

The ground lurched. Paragon was still dazed, and he stumbled. His stomach turned.

Then he saw it—

A wave of darkness, even blacker than space. It was moving across the horizon, coming closer, but he was already feeling the effects. Again his senses shrank and nausea overtook him. He gasped, only this time, there was no air. In a panic, he gasped again. And again.

Paragon knew that humans could drown, but he'd never experienced the sensation. His lungs burned and his chest spasmed, like an electric shock had passed through it.

He needed to get away. He needed to get off the moon.

That was when the ground shook directly beneath his feet—

And a hand burst out.

Mod leapt out of the ground, seizing Paragon before he could fly away. One hand gripped Paragon around the throat, the other seized his wrist. The cyborg's grip was cold iron on his skin. Mod still had that eerily human-like exterior, and it made his steely expression all the more frightening.