"Whoosh!" (An open-topped armored vehicle sped past.)
One Ork said, "Did I just see a tin can?"
Another Ork said, "All I saw was a green blur and some black stuff. Painboy must've made something new again."
Two big green figures drove the armored vehicle deeper into the Space Gungat. Only after they passed several checkpoints did an Ork finally notice something wrong.
An enormous Ork blocked the passage ahead. His armor was immensely thick, built from massive rivets and endless iron plates, layer upon layer bonded into incredible hardness by the power of belief.
Hiber had not even realized that the figure was an Ork at first. Had he not roared, the armored vehicle would have driven straight into him.
The speeding open-topped vehicle swerved sharply, its rear swinging around and flinging a black shape high into the air. Izak used the centrifugal force to leap up, his arms tensed, his sword held behind him. His Power Fist descended like thunder, its sonic boom rolling through the air like a thunderclap.
The Power Fist slammed into the layers of steel. Though it punched through the outer metal as easily as cake, the composite structure beneath withstood the blow.
Izak bent his arm with the momentum, blocking one of the Ork's arms as he slashed his sword toward the other side.
The heap of steel beneath him began to move. The Power Fist had not even penetrated its armor. The Ork raised a huge hand-a massive steel prosthesis, likewise made of nothing but plates and rivets. Only when the hand opened could the Son of the Fire Dragon tell that it was not a coiled belt.
The Power Sword rang with the clash of metal, its blade trembling. A hand had caught it fast. Its disintegration field remained active, but