The moment Armaan, Samar, and Roumit were tossed through the glowing gate, they barely had a second to react before landing on their feet. But as they looked up...
Their eyes widened in sync.
"What the hell...?"
They all said it at the same time.
This wasn't what they expected.
They had braced themselves for colossal dragons, towering over mountains, wings blotting out the sky—perhaps a realm of eternal fire and ancient roars echoing through the clouds.
Instead...
They found themselves in a strange colony teeming with alien life.
The creatures looked slightly humanoid, but it was clear they weren't human. Not even close. Their skin came in unnatural colors—azure, obsidian, molten gold. Some had tails. Others, horns. A few floated off the ground, while others crawled on all fours. It wasn't a single species either. This was a whole melting pot of beings.
Armaan furrowed his brows. "What kind of joke is this, huh?" he muttered, loud enough for only Samar and Roumit to hear. "You said you'd teleport us to the Draconic Realm... but we're in some random alien colony."
The voice that responded didn't come from beside him, but directly into his mind.
"Tch... Impatient as ever."
Armaan blinked.
The Bloodshed Dragon's voice echoed in his head, thick with ancient amusement.
"What you see here, Armaan, are the inheritors. Just like you. Every living being in this realm has inherited the essence of a dragon that once roamed these skies. The Draconic Realm was once ruled by real dragons—billions of years ago—but all of them perished in the Great Fall. Their powers and memories, however, live on... within chosen vessels. Beings like you."
Armaan crossed his arms. "That's a pity... and a pain in the ass too," he muttered mentally. "I was seriously looking forward to seeing actual dragons, you know?"
"You saw me in your dreams, didn't you? Isn't that enough?" the dragon replied dryly.
Armaan sighed and tilted his head. "You're literally a flowing river of blood, my guy. I was expecting claws, wings, the whole epic dragon package. Not... whatever that liquid nightmare form you have is."
There was a pause.
Then a low growl echoed in Armaan's mind.
"Insolent brat. I should've picked someone with more reverence."
"Too late. I'm all you've got." Armaan smirked.
He opened his eyes and turned toward his companions, who were still gawking at the bizarre colony.
"Okay, listen up," Armaan said. "It's not what it looks like, but also kinda is. According to the dragon in my head, all the people here are like... inheritors of ancient dragons. The real ones died ages ago, but their powers live on inside beings like them—and us."
Samar raised a brow. "So... these guys are dragon people?"
"Not dragon people exactly," Armaan replied, shrugging. "Think of them like... hosts. Chosen ones. Carriers of draconic fragments. And I guess we just got added to the guest list."
Roumit frowned. "I don't see any wings. Or fire. Or, you know, dragons."
"Neither do I," Armaan muttered. "But apparently that's part of the test."
The terrain beneath them groaned with dormant power, and above, the vast sky shimmered with violet auroras unfamiliar to any Earthly night. As the wind swept across the edges of the floating plateau, Samar suddenly pointed forward, his voice sharp.
"Guys… that thing… what the hell is that?!"
Suspended in the sky, filling almost the entire horizon like a void punched through reality itself, loomed a colossal, monstrous black mass. Golden rings danced around it in slow, elegant motion—an ominous celestial halo to a silent predator.
Roumit stumbled back, his breath caught in his throat. His lips trembled as he whispered, "I-it… It's a black hole..."
Armaan's eyes widened. The gravitational beast hovered so far yet felt so near—as if it was watching them too.
Before panic could rise, the ancient dragon's voice echoed inside their minds, a calm, commanding telepathy that reached all three of them this time.
"Do not be afraid. What you're seeing is the heart of the Draconic Realm—a black hole older than your civilization. This planet… is billions of times larger than your sun. It had to be, to cradle the colossal dragons who once soared freely here."
The boys remained silent, stunned by the gravity of that truth—both figuratively and literally.
"A regular sun couldn't hold such a world in orbit. It would collapse or scatter. But this black hole... it doesn't consume us. It uses all of its gravity not to destroy, but to sustain. Every bit of its pull is absorbed in keeping the Draconic Realm revolving around it—anchoring this immense world in place."
There was a beat of silence. Then Roumit, adjusting his glasses, muttered as realization dawned on his face.
"That explains everything… The planet's mass, the lack of tectonic instability, and even the constant illumination... A planet this massive should've either become a star itself or collapsed into a singularity… but instead, the black hole is acting like a stabilizing heart."
He looked at the golden halo once more, awed.
"And since a black hole doesn't emit light, but its accretion ring does... that glowing disk must be scattering its radiation perfectly across the planet. That's why there's no day-night cycle. Just... this eternal twilight."
Samar and Armaan glanced at each other, speechless. What they had thought to be another realm had now revealed itself as something far more complex—a cosmic miracle.
"…We're not in the Milky Way anymore, are we?" Samar finally asked.
The dragon responded, still in their minds.
"No. This is the Daikan Galaxy. A place you know as Andromeda. And yet, it is still far beyond what your telescopes could ever find. You've just stepped into a legend long buried by your universe."
Armaan clenched his fists as his gaze remained locked on the distant void.
The atmosphere suddenly shifted.
A chill ran down Armaan's spine.
He stepped forward instinctively—and froze.
There it was.
A pulse. A flicker in the air. A sudden spike in killing intent.
Someone was watching them.
"Tch—" Armaan turned on his heel—
SLASH!
The razor-sharp limb came down at an insane speed, aiming to slice him clean in half. But Armaan's blade caught it in the nick of time with a loud metallic clash that echoed across the cliffs. Sparks flew from the contact point.
Before the attacker could react, Armaan gritted his teeth and drove his foot straight into the figure's chest.
BAM!
The stranger flew back, skidding on the dark stone and coming to a halt a dozen meters away.
Armaan's eyes narrowed as he caught a clearer glimpse.
"A girl...?"
She stood up slowly.
White skin like polished ivory. Long green hair that shimmered with an alien tint. Eyes glowing violet. And clothes—unlike anything worn on Earth. An angular bodysuit of pale obsidian, woven with strange runes that pulsed faintly.
She couldn't be more than sixteen—at least in appearance.
Armaan pointed his blade at her, calm but firm.
"Who are you?"
The girl didn't answer.
She launched forward again with a sharp hiss, her form cutting the air like a blade. Her speed was impressive—but Armaan was faster.
He drew a deep breath and focused.
From his chest, the center of his prana core, streams of energy surged. Glowing threads of silver-blue prana rushed downward—through his abdomen, hips, thighs—until both his legs glowed in sync with radiant power.
He vanished.
BOOM!
Appearing right beside her, Armaan twisted and punched her mid-air in the gut.
CRACK!
She spiraled out of control, crashing into a boulder several meters away, kicking up a cloud of stone dust.
Armaan didn't let his guard down.
He stepped forward, blade steady. "I don't like to fight with girls." He sighed, his tone serious. "Tell me who you are."
Still no answer.
Then... she whispered:
"Kageyame Ryú."
Her body began to shift.
The air around her warped.
The green-haired girl's form was engulfed in blackness. Her skin melted into shadow. Her aura turned into a pulsing mass of pure black energy, shadow-like tendrils flickering across her frame. She grew more terrifying. More... primal.
A shrill screech ripped through the air as she lunged again—this time even faster and harder.
Armaan's eyes widened—just barely.
He couldn't dodge this one.
CRASH!!!
The impact sent him flying. His back smashed through a thick rock wall, exploding it into pieces.
"ARMAAN!!!" Samar's scream echoed across the battlefield.
Roumit stepped back in horror. "W-we can't even see them properly anymore…"
From the dust, the shadow girl spoke with venom:
"I knew it... you lowly humans aren't capable of withstanding it."
She raised her hand.
Dark claws extended from her fingers as she prepared to end him.
But then—
He disappeared.
Just like that.
In a blink.
"Wha—?"
A rush of wind. A flicker behind her.
Crackle.
Her eyes shot open as a deep hum of energy resonated behind her back.
Armaan stood there, silent.
His silver eyes glowed with a quiet fury. His hair fluttered in the chaotic breeze. His body was enveloped in black-and-blue aura, threads of silver lightning streaking across his frame. His blade radiated heat—intense and dangerous.
Prana Howl.
He had entered the form that pushed his body beyond human limits.
The girl turned—but too late.
WHOOSH!
Armaan vanished again—and reappeared behind her, blade slashing down with searing precision.
But she barely dodged, her reflexes kicking in. She twisted and slammed his blade down with one hand.
Her other hand rose to finish him.
But—
CRACK!
Armaan's leg twisted mid-air like a scorpion's tail and kicked her square on the temple, spinning her body sideways.
His blade was freed.
And then—
SLASH!
He drew a clean cut across her arm. Not enough to sever, but enough to draw alien ichor.
She stumbled back, breathing hard.
But the fight wasn't over.
They clashed again.
Fast.
Faster than sound.
Their movements blurred into a storm of raw motion—blades flashing, fists flying, rocks crumbling under their feet. Every step, every block, every parry happened in a split second. The ground beneath them cracked and groaned.
Samar couldn't keep up. Roumit's mouth hung open, watching with disbelief.
They weren't just fighting.
They were dancing in the air—two titans of speed and precision.
But then—
The girl hesitated.
She noticed it.
Armaan wasn't even trying his hardest.
His eyes… cold, unreadable. His blade... steady. His body... barely breaking a sweat.
She froze for a fraction of a second—just enough.
Armaan took it.
BAM!
His kick crushed into her abdomen. Her breath exploded out of her lungs.
BOOM!
A follow-up punch to her arm sent her flying into a rock wall with tremendous force.
CRACK!
The impact shattered the stone, embedding her inside it. She coughed blood, body trembling.
Her voice, strained and choking, finally escaped her lips:
"H-how... can a human... be this strong...?"
More blood dripped from her mouth.
Her gaze, once proud and furious, now held fear.
And Armaan?
He simply walked toward her, blade in hand, the silent storm of his aura roaring quietly behind him.