>>> 2015-03-01 13:12 UTC+10; Above the house.

Michael flew to the location. It had felt too long before the Ace Hunt reacted to their displays, and he trusted his instincts that something was wrong.

He saw the black van stopping in the middle of a street. He ignored it, dodged their fire, their anti-magics too far away to get him in the air.

In his vision, the other dragon was a bright, shining beacon. It battled Hunters bravely, but it was just a juvenile, really.

Michael was no baby dragon, wet behind the ears. He screeched, drawing the attention of the Hunters up to him, and he plummeted to the ground, teeth bared.

They fired. He twisted. A few bullets glanced off his scales. He didn’t care, and nor did he stop his descent. The Hunters scattered, and he swept his long body around, dragging them all to the ground. Immediately, he turned to the dragon, ripping away the last of its bonds.

Another shot; Michael bled. If he were in human form, he would have smirked, because he wasn’t one of those agents who fear using blood magic.

He nudged the other dragon roughly. It glared at him, but at his second nudge, rushed back into the house. With the kid out of the way, Michael raised his body, letting the blood come out.

Drip, drip, drip.

And out of the blood emerged little transparent dragons with sharp teeth and sharp claws, and Michael gave them each a little bit of his magic and told them to attack.