The deinonychus screeched as Bruce Lee delivered a frightening blow to the creature's sternum, shattering the ribs and rupturing its organs in quick succession. A thick sludge of blood, shredded internals and brown streaks of half-digested meat spewed forth from the creature's maw as it collapsed to the floor in a heap, flailing and emitting a pained gurgling as it did so. It had barely landed when Lee whirled, catching the second deinonychus' throwing knife and hurled it back at the stunned lizard. The wickedly curved blade impacted into its neck and sent a spray of blood over the nearest wall, before it too fell and squirmed as its last breaths gasped their way down its windpipe.
Those remaining dromaeosaurids which had not fled in terror could do little but gawk in mute fear as Lee turned to face them, faint smears of blood adorning his muscled flanks, and a fearsome blaze burning deep down within the pits of his eyes.
He surveyed the reptilian enemies before him, clad in their morph-tech armour and those few with the foresight to arm themselves. The leader of the group clutched a claymore, the hilt the shape of an ancient trireme and the blade decorated with the filthy lizard-tongue that the invaders hissed and snapped, both between themselves and the enemy. He stepped forward, fearsome claws clicking on the metal grating, casting a glance at the bodies surrounding the wiry human.
'You have fought well, for a descendant of a two-toothed mammal,' the commander snarled in his native tongue, hissing each word. 'But this is now the end, you fermenting smear of troglodytic man-yolk.'
Raising a single spade-shaped claw, the commander depressed one of the many runes adorning his morph-tech war plate. The result was instantaneous; the souls of the remaining deinonychii were torn from their bodies in an instant, and for a fleeting of moments Bruce Lee saw the abject horror upon their faces as they were sucked clear and torn into their constituent essences.
The turbulence which erupted from the bodies of the reptilian warriors formed into a yawning vortex, channelling their theropod energies unto the commander. He swelled and distorted, bones cracking and reforming, flesh bubbling and boiling as it sloughed away and knitted itself anew.
A tide of energies burst forth from the rapidly shifting mass of flesh and steel and struck Lee, hurtling him backwards and smashing him into the wall. Thinking quickly he rolled behind the corpse of the deinonychus he had slain using its own weapon, the scaly body rapidly desiccating until it was a mere husk, which shattered into dust as the tide of energies withdrew.
Wasting no time, Lee leapt to his feet and ran at the commander's monstrous bulk, a dark scream rushing from his lungs as he lunged, foot extended in front of his body in the form of a spirit-obliterating running kick.
The effect was instantaneous - the commander exploded in a shower of blood and viscera, those parts not quite complete in their transformation undergoing a process of liquefaction before bursting into flames, the liquid scorching its way through the reinforced steel mesh and dripping out onto the mountainside below. The once pristine laboratory was now awash with the gore of what remained of the captain and the corpses of his once-loyal staff, and apart from Lee nothing had survived the terrible vortex of souls.
Lee took a moment to ensure that his once-more extinct enemies were no more. He swept a glob of what had once been the commander's third eye off of his right pectoral muscle and set off, leaving the site of battle behind him.
He thought of his pagoda.