Dagon lingered.

  For a long time, the great black dragon did not move, even as the storm reclaimed the sky above him. Crimson clouds thinned, violet lightning faded, and the violent winds slowly gave way to uneasy calm. The ocean settled into slow, heaving breaths, as if the world itself was afraid to move too suddenly.

  Vale watched in silence.

  Dagon stood upon his hind legs, towering above the sea, his posture strangely humanoid despite his draconic form. Broad shoulders rolled back, wings folding partially behind him like vast curtains of night. In that moment, he did not look like a beast.

  He looked like a true king.

  Slowly, the dragon turned.

  His gaze fell upon the students.

  It was unreadable, neither hostile nor kind, neither warm nor cold. Just ancient. Vale felt it pass over them like a weight pressing against his chest. Around him, students began to crumble. Some fell to their knees, others buried their faces in their hands, tears streaming freely. Whispers of prayer and despair mixed with quiet sobbing.

  Even Chrome, still kneeling near the shattered chamber, closed his metallic eyes, his body going still as if bracing for annihilation.

  Vale did not move.

  He stood there, breathing slowly, watching as the inevitable approached.

  Dagon began to walk.

  Each step displaced the ocean itself, water parting instinctively before him. The dragon’s movements were deliberate, unhurried, strangely familiar, almost thoughtful. With every step closer, despair thickened in the air.

  Then, abruptly, Dagon stopped.

  He halted roughly a hundred meters from the platform.

  Vale’s breath caught as the dragon raised one massive arm and rested it gently upon the broken remnants of the teleportation chamber. The structure groaned under the weight, but did not collapse, as if even the stone feared to fail him.

  Dagon looked down.

  His gaze moved across the students… and then settled on Vale.

  Vale felt it instantly, the full weight of those ancient eyes. He realized, distantly, that he was one of the few still standing, not cowering, not pleading. He was not brave.

  He was simply watching.

  Dagon lowered his head.

  His massive skull tilted slightly as his eyes locked directly onto Vale’s. For a heartbeat, neither moved. The world seemed to narrow to that single moment.

  And then, without thinking, without reason,

  Vale raised his hand.

  It was a small, foolish gesture. A reflex. As if he were reaching out to touch something impossibly distant. As if he were trying to pet the embodiment of despair itself.

  Dagon narrowed his eyes.

  He studied Vale carefully, as though weighing something unseen. Then the dragon exhaled, a deep, rumbling breath that blasted warm air straight toward Vale, ruffling his hair and coat, forcing him to brace his stance.

  And just like that, Dagon turned away.

  He moved back toward the rift from which he had emerged. The crimson tear in reality was already shrinking, its chaotic atum unraveling as its purpose ended. The dragon walked through the water, his massive form disappearing piece by piece into the fading light.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Vale stared.

  Something twisted in his chest, an idea, a realization forming too late.

  “It’s a lie, isn’t it?!” Vale shouted suddenly, his voice cracking across the water.

  Dagon stopped.

  The dragon turned his head slightly, violet eyes narrowing as they fixed on Vale one last time. For a long moment, he simply stared, unreadable as ever. Ember, standing nearby, lifted his head and watched the dragon with deep, almost reverent interest.

  Then Dagon growled.

  Low and final.

  And stepped fully into the rift.

  It closed behind him.

  Silence followed.

  The white rift sealed completely, the storm dissipating as the sky cleared and the ocean finally returned to calm. Against every expectation, against all reason,

  They had survived.

  Vale remained frozen, staring at the empty sky long after the danger had passed. It took several seconds before reality fully returned to him.

  Then, quietly, Zellion’s voice echoed in his mind once more.

  “Kid,” Zellion said grimly, “these people… they’re real trouble. You’d better prepare yourself.”

  Vale exhaled slowly and glanced down at his metallic arm, exhaustion heavy in his bones.

  “What do you mean?” he asked calmly.

  Far away, deep within the hidden base of the New Order, the man reappeared in a flash of light.

  His body rebuilt itself unnaturally, metal and flesh knitting together as he staggered forward. He moved quickly through the corridors, ignoring the faint, muffled screams of children echoing through the walls, until he reached an important chamber.

  Inside, a brown-haired woman sat behind a pristine desk.

  The room was empty of decoration, cold and sterile. She did not look up at first.

  “You failed,” she said softly.

  The man froze.

  Panic overtook him as he turned toward her, his voice trembling. “D-don’t worry,” he stammered. “Their deaths are certain. I released a Herald-”

  She snapped her fingers.

  A massive screen materialized behind her, flickering to life.

  “You mean this Herald?” she asked.

  The image resolved into the unmistakable form of Dagon.

  The man stumbled backward, horror draining the color from his face. “Impossible…” he whispered.

  He snapped his gaze back to her. “I thought you took care of him! What happened?!”

  The woman rose slowly from her chair.

  With a simple swipe of her finger, the man collapsed to his knees, coughing violently as black blood spilled from his mouth. She turned back toward the screen, her eyes cold.

  “It is true,” she said calmly. “I caused his demise five hundred years ago. I never expected his return.”

  She glanced back at the man.

  “But just when victory seemed certain… he appeared.”

  Her gaze hardened.

  “Do not worry,” she continued. “You will be punished for your failure soon enough.”

  She reached her desk and picked up a strange device, studying it briefly before pressing a button.

  “For now,” she said quietly, “I will deal with those children myself.”

  A wicked smile spread across her face as she laughed softly, madness lacing her voice.

  “Oh, dear sister,” she called into the air, “do you hate me now?”

  She pressed the button.

  Far away, the teleportation sequence began.

  Vale spun in place, panic snapping through his thoughts as flashes of light erupted all around him.

  Students were vanishing.

  One moment they stood beside him, injured, exhausted, terrified, and the next they were gone, swallowed by blinding bursts of radiance that tore them from the platform without warning. The air crackled violently as teleportation after teleportation activated in rapid succession.

  “Focus, kid, listen to me!” Zellion’s voice barked inside his head, sharper than before.

  Vale barely had time to react.

  “They’re sending you somewhere I can’t reach,” Zellion continued urgently. “Where I can’t help you. So don’t be reckless, don’t fight battles you can’t win!”

  Vale looked down at his metallic arm, heart pounding, his thoughts scrambling for purchase. Light flared again nearby.

  Korin began to fade.

  “Wait, how do we get back?!” Vale shouted, his voice breaking as he reached out.

  Korin didn’t answer.

  He disappeared in a silent flash.

  Nearby, Nym was engulfed next. She looked around wildly, horror frozen on her face as the light consumed her, her scream cut short as she vanished. Vale turned desperately,

  Ember.

  The great wyvern dissolved into brilliance, the glow swallowing his form entirely. Vale clutched his raven instinctively, fingers tightening around the small, trembling body as he spun again and again, watching the world empty itself.

  Chrome vanished.

  Nova followed.

  One by one, every familiar presence was erased from the chamber.

  “Listen carefully!” Zellion shouted. “Find the Black Lion!”

  Vale’s gaze snapped forward.

  Eskar stood alone for just a heartbeat longer than the others. He stared at Vale, not angry, not defiant, but afraid. Truly afraid. Then, like the rest, he was gone, erased by pure light.

  Vale’s chest tightened.

  “Zellion, who is-” he demanded.

  And then the light reached him.

  It consumed everything.

  Sound vanished.

  Weight vanished.

  The chamber, once overflowing with hundreds of students, was left utterly empty, silent stone bearing no trace of those who had stood there moments before.

  Vale felt himself falling.

  Or floating.

  He couldn’t tell.

  Darkness wrapped around him as the teleportation carried him away, deeper and deeper into a void without direction or distance. No stars. No ground. No sense of time.

  Only the faint echo of Zellion’s last warning reverberated through his mind as he drifted toward an unknown, and undoubtedly dangerous destination.

  (end of volume one: rebirth of the unknowing)

  Unmade. This has been a passion project of mine, I love writing, and knowing that other people enjoy it as well is an incredibly rewarding feeling.

  Unmade. I hope you have a wonderful week!

  Unmade there. Also, if anyone knows how to add a Discord link on Royal Road, please let me know!