Flashes. Moments. Centuries of history compressed into seconds.
A black-scaled egg, warm in the nest of obsidian glass.
A dragonling clawing her way out beneath a sky split by lightning.
Her first flight… Leaping from the peak of a spire so high, clouds wrapped around its base like silk.
Battles against titanic beasts, their bones left bleaching under moons not seen on Earth.
Feasting in halls made of molten crystal and volcanic glass, surrounded by dragons whose wings blotted out the sun.
And then, Damien saw it.
The truth.
Earth wasn't where dragons lived.
It was where they played.
Where they hunted.
Where they tested their young.
Their true home lay elsewhere.
The Dragon World.
A pocket dimension, separate from Earth's mana field.
Vast. Pristine. Ancient.
Damien stood on a mountain ridge, or rather Blackie's memory of one. The air shimmered with raw mana so thick it tingled against his skin.
