Void stood in the depths of the abyss, silently admiring the strange black mask resting in his hands.
"I don't really like the shape," he muttered.
As the thought crossed his mind, the mask shifted—its smooth surface rippled like liquid shadow, reshaping itself until it matched the design he had imagined. A sleek, full-face cover with a subtle curve, hiding his nose and mouth entirely. It looked as if the void itself had forged it.
"Whoa…"
He turned toward a jagged stone wall where a faint reflection shimmered.
"That's… incredible."
The mask hugged his face as if it belonged there, perfectly balanced between elegance and menace. The veins of golden mana that danced beneath his skin pulsed with calm approval.
But then… something else moved in the reflection.
He froze.
Not his own silhouette.
Not a shadow.
Something behind him—still and faint—but there.
Void turned around slowly. The air in the abyss was colder here, heavy with age and dust. He advanced with caution, each step echoing slightly across the ancient rock. There, tucked between two broken slabs of obsidian and bathed in a pale glow…
An egg.
No. The egg.
It pulsed faintly, with veins of dormant fire glowing just beneath the shell. Irregular cracks webbed across its surface like scars of time, yet it remained whole—breathing, even. Waiting.
Void approached, eyes narrowed.
"A dragon egg...?"
It was enormous. At least the size of a human torso, smooth and black with shifting hues of crimson deep beneath its surface. A living ember. And it was real. Not some illusion, not a fragment of madness.
Void crouched before it, gaze sharp.
"If someone else had found this… they'd probably think it's a gift from the heavens," he whispered.
He smirked coldly.
"Fools."
Most would see opportunity. Power. A divine beast to raise, to control. But Void had felt the soul of a dragon—its agony, its overwhelming power, its mind. Dragons weren't pets. They weren't loyal. Even newborns knew how to tear out a throat, knew what power meant. They were born with instincts far beyond most mortals.
"This thing could kill me the second it hatches," he muttered.
He remained there for a long moment, just observing. Trying to understand why the egg had been left here… or why he had found it.
Then, without even realizing, his hand reached out.
A single touch.
"Huh?"
His fingertips brushed the surface.
And in the blink of an eye, it began.
The egg pulsed. Hard.
A sudden pull—not physical, but raw and violent. It latched onto his hand, holding it in place as if fused to his skin.
"Shit—!"
Void tried to yank his hand back, but it wouldn't move. The egg was drawing something from him. Energy. Not just mana—deeper than that. His very essence.
His veins lit up like molten gold, and pain shot through his arm.
It wasn't just feeding.
It was devouring.
"Greedy little bastard," Void hissed through clenched teeth.
And just as quickly as it began, it stopped.
A silence fell—tense, sharp.
Then:
CRACK.
Void watched in stunned silence as a fine fracture appeared across the shell.
Another.
Then another.
Tiny lines webbed outward, glowing brighter and brighter as the egg began to tremble.
"…Oh, no."
Something inside was waking up. And it was waking hungry.
Cracks laced the egg like lightning across a blackened sky. With each fracture, the silence in the abyss grew heavier, as if the air itself held its breath. Then, with a final shiver, the shell split open.
From within the egg, something ancient stirred.
A gust of heat swept through the cavern. The shards of obsidian trembled. The shadows recoiled.
And there it was.
Wings unfurled—slowly, deliberately—like veils of dark fire. Its scales shimmered with a molten sheen, as if forged from stars drowned in ink. Two eyes opened, vast and vertical, like the gaze of a god who had once watched the birth of time.
The creature was majestic.
Not monstrous. Not brutal.
Majestic.
It rose, still steaming, its breath hot enough to scorch stone. Barely born, and yet it moved with the grace of memory—like it had done this before, in another world, another age.
Void stood still. His body tensed.
His mask was tight on his face, but beneath it, his expression twisted between awe and suspicion.
The dragon turned its head. Slowly. Carefully.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment… nothing existed but that.
Two beings made of the same flame. One ancient in soul. One reborn in shadow. Bound not by fate—but by something deeper: recognition.
The dragon saw Void. Not as prey. Not as a toy. But as a mirror.
It opened its mouth—not to roar, but to breathe. And in that breath, Void felt it: a pull, not physical, but spiritual. A quiet, unspoken message vibrating beneath his skin.
"You carry within you the last breath of my kin. I know you. I know what you've become. And I accept you as my master."
Void flinched, heart pounding.
Master?
He took a step back. "No."
The word left his mouth before he could stop it. Cold. Final.
"No, I don't trust you."
The dragon tilted its head, patient, silent.
Void's fists clenched. "I don't care what power you sense in me. You're a dragon. You'll turn on me the moment I let my guard down. Tear me apart. Swallow me whole."
The dragon didn't answer. It only watched. Its tail flicked once, slowly. Then, it leapt—wings spread, body lifting into the darkness above. It circled once, its gaze still locked with Void's.
For a moment, Void thought it might attack.
Instead, it flew higher, spiraling around the walls of the abyss in slow, measured arcs.
Void followed it with his eyes, confused and tense. It looked almost playful. Curious. But not hostile.
Not yet.
Finally, the dragon hovered above him. A gust of wind from its wings swept over him, stirring dust and light.
Then, without warning… it turned.
And left.
No roar. No goodbye. Just a silent departure—like a shadow slipping through the cracks of reality.
Void stared at the emptiness it left behind.
Alone again.
Utterly alone.
"…You could've at least flown me out of here," he muttered, his voice echoing weakly. Then louder, bitter:
"Yeah, just leave! Go on, little god! Off you go!"
His voice cracked into the void.
"At least now I'm safe," he said to himself. "Right? Right…? Safe down here. Alone."
He sat down slowly on a rock, the mask cool against his face, the veins of gold pulsing faintly beneath his skin.
"You carry within you the last breath of my kin..."
He looked up at the sliver of light high above.
His whisper was soft.
Barely audible.
More confession than thought.
"…Why did you choose me?"