Page 45 of Fire's Storm
"We need discreditation," he forces himself to say, fighting for clarity against his primal instincts. "Evidence confirming inevitable catastrophe rather than performance suggesting possible advantage."
Sarla's mind shifts into higher gear, her pupils contracting to slits. "What specifically?" Her fingers drum rapid patterns on the stone table, leaving tiny scratches in the surface.
Heat floods Metu's system as memories of Vulcan's past failures flash through his mind. The academy training hall in ruins. Lightning scars in the council chamber ceiling. The eastern gardens destroyed during a temper tantrum.
"Vulcan's control remains their critical vulnerability," he answers, voice deepening as his shift progresses. "His raw power contains inherent volatility regardless of temporary harmony achieved through their bond."
"The human female's tactical guidance provides stability," Sarla objects.
"Under controlled conditions with specific preparation," Metu counters, teeth bared in challenge. "Remove structured environment, eliminate readiness opportunity, subtract anticipation possibility—their compensation mechanism fails against genuine crisis requiring instantaneous response."
Sarla's eyes light with predatory understanding. "We create a crisis situation forcing instinctive reaction," she translates. "Engineered emergency requiring immediate response without them preparing beforehand."
"Precisely," Metu confirms, feeling his dragon half settle slightly as the plan takes shape. "We don't destroy them—we allow Vulcan's inherent nature to discredit their bond through public demonstration."
We show the clan the truth they refuse to see.
Sarla takes charge of the operational planning, her interrogation background evident in the fluid way she moves around the planning table. She traces patterns on the crystal map with one claw, leaving glowing marks that illuminate the sanctuary's layout.
"Location is critical," she states, amber eyes focused on the map. "Public, but controllable."
"The grand cavern during the Solstice Gathering," Khorne suggests, voice rasping. "Three days hence. Full clan attendance. Minimal security given the celebration context."
Metu's nostrils flare as he studies the suggested location. The grand cavern—the largest space in the Emberhold, central to all major pathways, crystal formations throughout providing perfect power conductors.
"Perfect," he agrees, scales rippling with anticipation.
"The threat must be authentic but contained," Sarla continues, claws tapping different sections of the map. "Limited casualties. Controlled damage."
"Controlled fire outbreak?" Elder Khorne suggests from his seat, ruby eyes distant as he considers possibilities.
Metu's lip curls in contempt. "Insufficient," he counters, slamming a clawed hand on the table. "Fire threatens Vulcan's bonded female given her firefighter background. Professional training would override instinctive reaction. She'd remain calm while he lost control. That strengthens their position, not weakens it."
His mind races through possibilities, dragon instincts evaluating threats and weaknesses with predatory precision. The answer comes to him in a flash of insight, his yellow eyes glowing brighter.
"Electrical crisis," he suggests, fangs bared in a predatory smile. "Crystal array destabilization creating a sanctuary structural threat."
Sarla's eyes widen slightly, a rare display of emotion. "Yes," she agrees with professional appreciation. "Storm dragons respond instinctively to electrical irregularity. His dragonblood will override his conscious control."
"With critical enhancement," Metu adds, moving to a small chest hidden in an alcove. His claws click the complex lock open, revealing a device of crystal and obsidian unlike anything in current sanctuary technology. "Targeted harmonic disruption designed against their Tempest Bond frequency I tracked during their trial demonstration."
"Creating interference within their connection," Sarla translates, eyes narrowing as she studies the device.
Metu lifts the device from its container, feeling it hum against his scales. Ancient technology recovered from ruins predating The Sundering, repurposed for their current need.
"The female's help will be interrupted while Vulcan's power accelerates out of control," he explains, obsidian scales spreading across his chest with excitement. "Their perfect little partnership severed at the moment of crisis."
"Outcome prediction?" Sarla asks, hunter's eyes calculating risks and rewards.
Metu's fangs gleam in the crystal light as his lips pull back in satisfaction. "Vulcan attempts electrical stabilization without tactical guidance," he predicts. "Power application without precise direction will create massive destruction without catastrophic consequences."
"Demonstrating inherent danger without causing unacceptable injuries," Elder Khorne summarizes, ruby eyes troubled despite his agreement.
"Exactly," Metu confirms, carefully returning the device to its container. "We don't destroy the clan—we save it.”
His dragon half rumbles with anticipation in his chest. Three days until the Solstice Gathering. Three days until the clan sees the truth about Vulcan Aetherion and his human pet.
Three days until vindication.
