A being as strong as him wouldn’t falter to a lone girl. With his free hand, he delicately grabbed a strand of this elusive invincible hair between his fingers, and yanked with all of his strength. It resisted at first, but a single strand, no matter how durable, was only as strong as the scalp of the person it belonged to. She screamed in pain, but the flesh didn’t resist his pull.

“If the light has the power to surpass my own strength, then I’ll steal the power of the light itself!”

He held the hair to his morpher belt. Many times in the past, after defeating a pathetic ranger, he stole their powers and abilities, enhancing his own. Now, none stood up to his sheer might. This was no different. The hair’s color faded as the belt absorbed its very essence into itself.

“Graaaaaah!”

Drakkon screamed out in pain, the task of gaining more and more power weighed heavily on his health, each new ability taking years off his lifespan. But he didn’t care. He needed to ensure he accomplished his goals, no matter the cost.

He clutched his chest, clawed at his heart to placate it, and breathed heavily. One heart spasm was not enough to stop Lord Drakkon.

When the physical torment subsided, he knew he had won. The luster of the princess’s hair dimmed, the golden energy of the hair physically making its way towards Drakkon. She had no way to harm him any longer. Her hair was as useless as the rest of her.

With her strength negated and no way to fight back, she dropped to the floor and cowered like a frightened child. She fell, as all warriors of the light soon would.

[...]

Drakkon took off his helmet, exposing his face to the world. His handsome appearance was ruined by horrific scars that ran along his jawline, stretching to his neck and the body beneath the suit. All of this power took its permanent toll on him. What was one more?

His hair glowed and lengthened. No longer did he have a paltry sum of brown hair that stopped at his shoulders. His new hair length rivaled Rapunzel herself, glowing an even brighter blonde. All the injuries on his body faded, overshadowed by the raw power he radiated. Any who looked upon him would recognize him as truly and completely beautiful.

“Look upon the face of your savior,” said Drakkon. “And know the fact he has spared you this day is a mercy he will not grant twice.”

- LetterSequence Round 0