As you barrel down the sewer, you are forced to stretch your neck forward and duck your head because the ceiling is only about 10 feet high and there are pipes suspended from the ceiling on top of that. You can smell the fear in the fleeing rat men, as well as their singed fur. The tunnel is straight with no diversions, and in spite of your size you are surprisingly fast.
"It's right on our heels," squeeked one of the panicky gray rat men as he panted.
"Not for long," replied the black hairy rat leader with an eye patch over one eye. The costume changed him into a rat man, but did not restore his eye apparently. He reached into his military jacket and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin and hurled it back at you.
The grenade bounced and rolled under your belly before it exploded. Your huge draconian body was slammed against the ceiling breaking pipes and causing chunks of concrete to rain down as you fell back into the fetid water on the floor of the tunnel. The combination of the explosion and crashing on to the sewer floor knocked the wind out of you. The resulting plasma stream bursting forth from your reptilian beak filled the tunnel and engulfed the retreating terrorists. The stench of steam and charred flesh filled the air. As the steam cleared you could see the charred skeletons of the half-rat, half-man terrorists smoldering in the clay fired muck. The grey concrete walls were coated with black soot. You felt a bit guilty about killing your would-be assassins, but the world was probably safer without them.
You think the world would be a lot safer without any of the terrorists or their criminal syndicate gang alliance. You sniff their charred remains and your dragon senses can distinguish their scent from char. You sniff out their trail and begin to hunt for their terrorist lair, and their comrades. You notice a movie poster on a nearby bus bench, and grin a toothy dragon grin.
You say, "Move over Batman, and make room for Dragonman!"