A/N: This chapter took longer than I thought it would, but it's done, and the story is finished! I'm not sure if the following is actually possible, but I think it is possible for it to be possible...read and review.

Moordryd froze as the world seemed to move slowly. Slatr swallowed Lance with stunning sluggishness. Each and every detail was highly vibrant; Slatr’s gleaming scales, his glistening teeth, the blood stained spike on his deadly tail and many other miniscule features. Moordryd continued watching as Slatr’s throat constricted as he swallowed his prey. Whole. While his tough and armor plated hide barely showed his actions, Moordryd could see a small bulge slide from his mouth to his abdomen. Lance.

Moordryd shook his head to get out of his stupor. He pulled back the handles. Decepshun obeyed, backing up into the shadows silently. Moordryd’s pale hands shook as he continued watching Slatr. Slatr had swallowed the mini-brat.

Slatr stretched, cracked his neck, and ambled slowly and contentedly in the direction of the Dragon Booster, who must still be out, judging by Slatr’s unconcerned attitude.

Moordryd felt oddly saddened by this turn of events. No, not saddened. He felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. “Lance…,” Moordryd whispered, unable to call him mini-brat. Lance was dead. And it was his fault. Moordryd hadn’t expected this or wanted it. He tried to console himself with the fact that it was the Dragon Booster’s fault, not his. But he failed. It was his fault. If only he had…done something.

Decepshun looked up at Moordryd, worried about him and his sudden quietness. She too, was stunned by the sudden loss of Lance. Moordryd looked up, and Decepshun followed his gaze. Not to Slatr, but to the top of the sloping street.

Fracshun could be seen on the edge, holding his right paw slightly off the ground. Blood could easily be seen on it. Frachsun whimpered at Slatr as his tail drooped. He stood there, too shocked and heartbroken to move.

Moordryd grimaced as he heard Frachsun chatter sorrowfully to his dead rider. He pulled his eyes from the blue dragon and stared at his saddle. Lance was dead. Slatr had swallowed him whole, and alive too. Was he being digested alive? Great, now Lance was suffering because of him. Moordryd felt worse than ever. Lance….

Moordryd’s head snapped up. Lance was alive! He hadn’t been chewed at all, simply swallowed, and would soon die from either the digestive juices or the lack of air. The latter would claim him first. Moordryd’s mind began racing, whether it was a hope for a new plan or craziness, he didn’t spend much time deciding which. Perhaps both.

Moordryd fingered the handles, thinking quickly. Slatr could only be destroyed from the inside, his only weak point. And Lance had to be rescued, he just had to.

Moordryd relaxed upon the saddle and filled himself with as much mag energy as he could safely and comfortably hold. Then he jumped valiantly off the saddle and ignored Decepshun’s questioning glance. “Girl,” he said breathlessly, “whatever happens, don’t mess with Slatr. Hide. When Slatr dies, then you can come help me if you can.” With the adrenaline rushing through his veins, he stepped forward, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled at the dragon. “Still hungry, newt face?”

Decepshun looked at him like he had lost his mind, and Slatr looked at him like he had just found his dessert. He hissed and moved forward. Moordryd pushed Decepshun, indicating to her that it was time to move. Then, he rushed forward to meet Slatr. Moordryd called, without turning around, “run Decepshun.” Decepshun backed up a couple of steps, but did not leave.

Slatr dashed forward and was soon towering over Moordryd. Moordryd was undaunted, and strode forward with a purpose. He never slowed as Slatr extended his head and opened his jaws. Decepshun, trusting him, stood still. He probably had some last minute plan and just needed to get closer to Slatr.

But as Decepshun watched, Slatr snapped up Moordryd in his monstrous mouth, and then swallowed. Moordryd had actually leaped in! He had wanted to be eaten! The only reason Decepshun could think of was what Moordryd had said earlier. Slatr could only be destroyed from the inside. Why did Moordryd have to take things literally?

Slatr noticed her, growled softly and advanced a step. Decepshun backed up, then turned and ran. She was no match for him. Slatr grinned and walked slowly, at ease, following her.

Moordryd had leapt into the jaw’s of death, for he didn’t want to be bitten in half. Soon, he was surrounded by rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, each one more deadly than the last. Moordryd was able to take one last breath of air, which was somewhat ruined by Slatr’s hot breath, before the dragon’s mouth and tongue forced him to the back.

Moordryd’s hands scraped on the hard covering of Slatr’s mouth as he pulled himself towards the throat. He was beginning to rethink his mad plan. But it was too late. Unable to stop himself, Moordryd slipped down Slatr’s throat.

Now completely coated by the dragon’s disgusting saliva, Moordryd was pitched into the darkness.

The further he slid down Slatr’s gaping throat, the more fleshy it became, which was a relief to Moordryd. Slatr did have a weakness. The constricting muscles of the esophagus pushed him downwards at a rapid pace, threatening to squeeze his last breath right out of him.

Soon, to his relief, he plunged into a mess of liquid and gore, which he assumed was the stomach. His hands, as they were splayed out in front, were the first to come into contact with the digestive juices. Instantly, he felt a burning sensation. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle, for the moment. He just hoped he would find Lance soon.

Ignoring the stinging of the juices, Moordryd groped about blindly with his hands, pushing aside what felt like muck. Not wanting to think what it may be, he continued searching, finding it hard to move about with nothing firm to push off from. His hands slid through the contents encountering no barriers. He tried swimming, in his own way, since he didn’t know how, but gained little ground. How big was Slatr’s stomach anyway?

His lungs began to ache for air. Desperate now, he lunged forward as best he could, fumbling about wildly. He had to get to Lance first before he destroyed Slatr.

A surge of joy shot through him as he felt the bottom of a shoe. Who else but Lance? Reaching further, he gripped it tightly and pulled it toward himself. The foot kicked, indicating life. But Moordryd felt the original amount of joy ebb away when he felt how feeble the kick really was. Lance was closer now, and Moordryd reached with his other hand and grabbed Lance by his shirt. He pulled Lance close to himself.

Lance, at first, struggled weakly, then either he stopped because he realized help was near, or he didn’t have the energy to keep moving. Moordryd hugged him and concentrated. Now that he had found Lance, he could get out of here. Moordryd unleashed the most powerful mag-pulse he could, and it radiated out from around him and instantly seared Slatr’s insides.

Decepshun stopped at the end of the street and looked back. Slatr briskly trotted up to her, hissing and baring his teeth the whole time in an effort to intimidate her. It was working, even without the hissing.

Decepshun was about to continue, but then shook her head. She was the Shadow Booster’s dragon! She was a pure black! She absorbed the Vysox bone mark! Was she really going to run from this ugly dragon?

Growling at her earlier cowardice, she spun around and faced Slatr. Slightly surprised, Slatr’s speed decreased. He stopped, and then laughed. Decepshun’s anger was fueled. First he ate her rider, now he laughs at her? She growled. She would have to show him a thing or two. No one ate Moordryd except…um, no one. Decepshun crouched and bared her teeth at him and roared.

Slatr shook his head, almost disbelieving that another dragon had the silly notion to confront him. Standing straight and leaning forward, he roared back. Decepshun cringed at the blast of hot air. She shook her head and almost gagged on the stench.

Slatr then prowled closer while Decepshun was almost blinded by the toxic fumes. She blinked through tearing eyes in time to see him stalking her. His tail flicked in the air as he crouched, within jumping range. Deceshun crouched as well, ready to pounce and do whatever damage she could. She quickly looked Slatr’s formidable, armored body over. She would go for the eyes.

Slatr didn’t move. Perhaps he was waiting for the right time, Decepshun thought. But what time wasn’t right for Slatr? Looking at his face, Decepshun was confused. But not nearly confused as Slatr himself.

He stared straight ahead, shocked as he ever could be. Decepshun recalled hearing a faint boom a few seconds before, but what did that have to do with anything?

Slowly, a dark trickle of blood ran out from the corner of Slatr’s mouth and careened down his chin. His legs seemed to buckle beneath him. His eyes were already filming over before he hit the ground.

Decepshun jumped back in surprise as the street trembled when he hit the ground. Whatever faint lights that had been on, flickered before returning to their dull glow. Slatr lay on his side.

Decepshun slowly advanced, fearing a trick. There was none, and she walked right up and sniffed his nose. By now, a great stream of dark blood was emanating from his mouth, crating a large pool. Decepshun had to back up to avoid touching it. What had happened? Moordryd! He must still be alive.

Decepshun bounded forward through the blood and once again approached Slatr’s head. His head was nearly five times bigger than her own. Using her paws, head and shoulders, she forced the huge jaws open and looked down the throat. Which was hard, considering that it was now blocked by blood. She gave a small roar that went unanswered.

She stared into Slatr’s mouth as her tail slowly drooped. For the first time in years, she whimpered. That too, went unanswered. She lowered her head in despair. She tried to refuse to believe the fact, but it soon struck home. She no longer had a rider.

Her ears suddenly perked as she heard something. Unexpectedly, a hand shot out from the back of Slatr’s mouth. Decepshun wasted no time in magging Moordryd out and away from Slatr’s jaws.

He was covered in Slatr’s inner fluids and blood, and held something close to his chest. Decepshun stopped her mag stream and waited expectantly. When Moordryd didn’t move, Decepshun nudged his shoulder with her nose. Almost immediately after, he coughed and took a breath of fresh air.

Moordryd gasped, and each breath hurt. He used one hand to wipe at his eyes, then he slowly opened them and squinted at the light. He instantly looked to his left, where Lance was lying. Moordryd propped himself on his elbow and tried to ignore the waves of nausea and dizziness. “Mini-b…Lance?” he asked weakly. He wasn’t sure if Lance could even hear him.

He began to wonder if it had all been for nothing. As he shook Lance slightly with his hand, Moordryd realized that he wasn’t breathing. Moordryd clenched his teeth and fought back emerging tears. Lance couldn’t be dead. Not after all he’d been through.

With a cry of rage, he slammed his fists on Lance’s chest, nearly using up all his remaining strength in the act. Lance’s body jerked violently, shocking Moordryd. Moordryd gave a small cry of alarm, which soon turned to joy as he watched Lance breath deeply.

“Mini-brat!” Moordryd grabbed Lance and held him close in a genuine hug. Lance spluttered and gradually opened his eyes.

He found himself looking over Moordryd’s shoulder at Slatr’s body. “Woah,” he said bluntly and feebly. “Was I in there?”

“Yeah,” Moordryd replied.

“Did you….” Lance pulled himself away from Moordryd and looked him in the eye, “did you…how did you…” Lance then, for the first time, noticed how disgusting Moordryd was, drenched in unnamable fluids and slime, just like himself. “Were you in there too?”

Moordryd relaxed his grip on Lance, realizing how out of character this was for him. “Uh, yea. I mean I…I didn’t….” Moordryd stumbled and could feel a faint blush rising in his cheeks. Lance merely grinned and flung his arms weakly about Moordryd again.

“Thanks.”

Moordryd hesitated before hugging him back. “No problem,” Moordryd coughed. He glanced around. It wasn’t like there was anyone else around to see this. Nobody except….

“Decepshun!” He said weakly, yet happily, nonetheless. Decepshun stuck her nose in front of his face, noticed how slimy he was, and licked his entire face with her warm tongue. Moordryd had to grin after that. His face was still slimy, but at least it wasn’t wet with Slatr’s stomach contents.

Decepshun smacked her lips, causing Moordryd to groan. She couldn’t actually like the taste, could she? Moordryd himself felt like throwing up.

Then Decepshun lifted her head and stared past Moordryd and Lance. She had obviously heard something. Moordryd pulled Lance from him and shakily got to his feet. Lance sat down on the ground and watched.

“Won’t your Dad be mad?”

“What?” Moordryd asked as he finally stood. He stepped over to Decepshun.

“Won’t your Dad be mad?” Lance repeated. Moordryd looked behind him to the dead giant.

“I guess he will.” Moordryd sighed and mounted Decepshun, which didn’t prove to be as easy as he had hoped. As he finally settled into the saddle, inspiration struck him. He smirked down at Lance, “but I didn’t kill him.”

“What? Yes you did. You risked your life for mine….”

Moordryd cut off Lance’s protests with a wave of his hand. “Nope. You did.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You had a mag grenade and you were able to destroy Slatr from the inside with that.”

“But where did I get a mag grenade?” Lance asked as he wiped at his face with his hand.

“You…I don’t know. Can’t you think of that yourself?” Moordryd snapped. Lance dropped his gaze and looked at the ground before him. As the silence between them stretched, Moordryd bit his lower lip. “I er, I dropped one, and you picked it up.” Lance looked up and smiled at him graciously. Moordryd smiled uncertainly back.

“Lance?” They both looked up. The Dragon Booster’s voice drifted from the street he had been last seen. Moordryd quickly turned Decepshun the other way.

“Remember,” he said over his shoulder, “I left some time ago. You haven’t see me since.” Lance nodded his head too vigorously, felt the world spin and slowly put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. When he looked again, Moordryd had disappeared.