I scrambled backwards in terror, the empty pepper spray canister falling from my hand and landing on the rooftop. It made a clanging noise as it hit, discordantly loud in my ears. Before me stood the figure of Lung, ten feet tall, wreathed in flame.

As the last clatter of the canister faded into silence, Lung laughed, a chuffing noise barely audible over the crackling of the flames. He reached for me, tendrils of smoke and fire streaming from his huge paw, and I knew that this was it.

I'm sorry dad… I closed my eyes, and waited for the end. And waited. When no pain seemed to happen, I cracked an eye open. What I saw caused both my eyes to fly wide open. Lung was struggling, one hand reaching to his face and trying to poke his eyes out; the other grasping his wrist, straining to pull the errant limb away.

With a jerk, the out-of-control limb pulled free, and two fingers jabbed themselves right into Lung's eyes. The force of the blow caused the dragon-man to stagger backwards and he fell, tumbling off the edge of the roof and landing on the street below with a thud and a bellow of rage.

Against all sense I stepped forwards to peer over the edge of the roof. Below me, I could see Lung, both arms flailing as they repeatedly punched him in the head. Lung staggered around, roaring, as he unsuccessfully tried to keep his arms under his own control.

One massive paw wrapped around a street light, yanking the pole from the ground, and smacking Lung in the face with the concrete rubble still attached to the end. The rubble shattered, and Lung staggered, reeling.

The pole continued to smack him in the face, over and over until eventually, Lung's eyes rolled up and he fell backwards, head smacking off the pavement as he fell.

The flames died down, and he quickly shrank to his normal size, scales receding and tail disappearing.

Shimmying down a drainpipe, I landed at street level, and cautiously approached. The insects I managed to place on him now that he was no longer aflame seemed to confirm that he was out cold - his pulse was low and steady, and his breathing was shallow.

I looked around for my saviour - clearly, someone had caused this, but I had no idea who. I jumped as I heard the quiet crunch of someone approaching behind me, and whirled around.

Before me stood one man, resplendent in blue armour, arms flexing as he shook off the effects of his power. I recognised him, of course I did. He was the leader of the local Protectorate.

The Arms-Master.

Author's note: I make no apologies.