Vaal stood amidst the ruins of the once peaceful village, the light behind his mask reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and coldness. At his feet, the Dragon-Human's body twitched slightly, its dragon scales cracked and broken, hot air escaping in weak bursts like a dying furnace.
He chuckled softly.
"This world… is quite interesting."
"Ha… ha ha ha ha…"
His laughter echoed steadily, not too loud but enough to make the surrounding air feel a few degrees colder.
Behind him, a capture team approached. Two armored soldiers lifted Keal, whose body began to shrink. Dragon scales flaked off in patches, falling onto the scorched ground. The horns slowly cracked and then broke off, blood staining both sides of his head red. The dragon claws retracted, turning back into human hands—torn, dusty, and bloody.
Keal was reverting to his human form. No more scales. No more fire. Just an unconscious 22-year-old boy, breathing weakly, being dragged away like discarded flesh.
Lyra was dragged ahead, her hair disheveled, her face covered in blood and tears. She turned her head back one last time, her eyes widening as she saw Keal being dragged right behind her.
"Keal…"
Her voice was hoarse, almost inaudible.
He didn't respond. Didn't hear. Knew nothing anymore.
Everything was pitch black. Then a small spark of light appeared, flickering in the darkness… bursting into flames.
Fire was engulfing a rooftop. Then two. Then the whole village.
Keal opened his eyes. But… he was still a child. No taller than the axe hanging in the kitchen corner. His tiny hands were trembling, covered in black ash. The air was thick with the smell of burning. Screams echoed everywhere. A woman—mother. A man—father. Both were standing in the sea of flames, their eyes wide with terror… looking directly at Keal.
His mother reached out her hand towards him. "Keal… stop… please stop, son…"
He didn't understand what was happening. But his body… wasn't normal anymore. Scales were growing on his hands. His skin was cracking. His fingernails were lengthening. Each breath he took blew out rolling blue flames. His parents screamed, but he couldn't control it. Another blast of fire erupted, burning everything. The smell of burning hair. Burning skin. The screams went silent. They didn't have time to run. They… didn't have time for last words.
Everything dissolved into flames.
Keal knelt amidst the ashes, his eyes burning with dragon fire. He couldn't hear anything but his own pounding heart and the sound of blood boiling in his ears. And then… an arm wrapped around him from behind.
It was Sann.
Still alive. His hair was messy, his face scorched, blood was smeared on his forehead, but he still held Keal tightly as if the monster before him… was still the little brother he knew.
"It's alright now… it's alright…" – His voice was choked, his arm tightening around Keal's thick, scaled shoulder.
Keal buried his head in his brother's shoulder, his breathing ragged. Then he passed out. Darkness returned. This time… there was no fire. Only a small sob in the ashes.
Keal opened his eyes. White light shone directly into his pupils, making him squint reflexively. The pungent smell of antiseptic and cold metal filled his nostrils. The ceiling was made of shiny alloy, layers of control panels reflecting the flickering red and green data streams. He was lying in the middle of a high-tech laboratory, so clean it was sterile.
His limbs were secured by transparent bio-locks. Wires, tubes, and sensor chips were attached all over his body. But… what chilled him to the bone more than anything else—was the sharp pain at the back of his head.
Keal turned his eyes to the right. A glass panel reflected his face—and behind his skull… it was opened up. A microscopic brain implant was embedded deep in his frontal lobe, connected to dozens of nano-optic fiber wires as thin as silk. He was awake… while his brain was being operated on.
Around him were six or seven figures in white robes, half-masks covering their faces, their eyes fitted with neural tracking devices. They weren't surprised. Not panicked. Not hurried. Just recording data. Nodding. Giving orders.
"Proceed with Nova implantation – premium version. Success rate: 99%."
"Increase voltage to 1.7. Brain responding well. Neural impulse waves stable."
"Dragon Body signal stable at the basic level. Initiate core system connection."
Keal gasped for breath, his eyes wide, his neck twitching slightly. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell, but his mouth wouldn't move. They… intentionally let him wake up.
A technician tilted his head, looking at the data.
"Consciousness restored. Good. Begin cortical reflex testing phase."
"We will keep him awake for another thirty seconds."
He was trembling. His entire body was unable to move. He could feel the sensation of a micro-drill being inserted inside his head. Images of flashing lights, mixed voices, and a feeling… of being torn in two.
"Neural response appropriate. Circuit stable. Re-anesthetize."
A stream of cold gas was injected into his bloodstream. His vision blurred. Consciousness sank as if being pulled into an abyss. Keal fell back into the darkness.
The sensor system turned green. Cerebral neural circuits stable. Brainwaves displayed steadily on the central monitor. A line of data appeared in mid-air—"Nova Core: connection successful." Below it, the status: "Ready to activate."
A mechanical female voice echoed steadily in the room:
"Confirmation: Nova successfully implanted into the brain."
"Initiate system activation and prepare for brainwashing."
A control panel lit up. Command lines ran quickly vertically: open neural channels, basic synchronization, lock deep memory region.
"Prepare."
"Begin brainwashing process."
"Progress level: 1%… 4%… 9%…"
An engineer observing the data nodded slightly.
"Good synchronization. Nova adapting perfectly. Fast-track to 20%."
"10%… 15%… 20%."
Keal's body lay motionless. His eyelids twitched slightly. A few images began to appear in his mind—fragmented, distorted. Sann. Lyra. The wooden house. The sunny field. Familiar voices gradually became distorted. Everything was being twisted… and erased.
Outside, the brainwashing process had reached 30%. But in Keal's mind… an endless black void opened up. No sound. No images. No escape. Just a pitch-black space, stretching endlessly like ancient, unexplored depths.
Keal stood in the nothingness. His feet didn't touch the ground. His hands couldn't feel anything. He looked around, not knowing who he was, or where he was.
Then… a cold gust of wind blew past the back of his neck.
And in the darkness, a colossal eye slowly opened.
Not light. But a gaze – piercing straight into his soul.
A deep, rumbling voice, echoing like a roar from the bottom of a mountain, spoke:
"Keal…"
He startled and turned around.
A gigantic figure was emerging from the darkness. Very slowly. Very heavily. A creature covered in black scales, its body dozens of meters long, its horns fiercely curved, its eyes like burning flames in the dark night—an ancient Black Dragon.
Its voice roared, repeating more clearly:
"Keal!!! Wake up!"
The Dragon's gaze wasn't angry, nor was it cold. But it was a gaze that exuded a divine majesty.
"You are my last descendant on this planet… the last and only Dragon-Human…"
The dragon's voice echoed throughout the darkness, heavy as a stone pressing on his heart. Keal stood frozen. He frowned, scratching his head out of habit, trying to understand what he had just heard.