Draco Primus
Mk. Zero “Do you have it?” Elon asked. Anna, war-torn and bloody, opened her bag. Inside, the rusted Shield gave off a faint glow. “Aren’t you going to ask about the others?” “Unimportant,” Elon said, grabbing the Shield. “This is all that matters.”
He rushed into his lab where the Prototype stood. It hardly looked like a dragon to Anna — more like a jumble of wires, contraptions, and whatchamajigs. Elon insisted the Shield was all he needed to make it go, to give them a fighting chance against Angrozh. With it they would avenge her fallen friends. Elon slid the Shield into its chest. Nothing.
Then, Draco Primus opened its eyes.
