Three days after the assault on Vault Omega, the world began to shift.
News of the destruction spread faster than the government could contain. Unofficial networks, underground broadcasts, and encrypted data leaks began circulating snippets of footage—explosions rocking the desert facility, drones falling from the sky, and the faint silhouette of a flame-wreathed figure leading an impossible escape.
The media called it an "internal malfunction."
The truth was far more dangerous.
Alex sat on a cliff edge overlooking the canyon, watching the sun rise over the fractured horizon. The Veilborn camp bustled behind him—healers tending to the wounded, scouts delivering updates, Maya repairing equipment beneath the early glow of day.
Kaela rested in a reinforced med-pod nearby. Her condition had stabilized, but the procedure done to her had consequences. Her body was weakened, her Core unstable. Specter said she would recover—but there was a cost.
"She won't be able to fight for a while," he'd told Alex quietly. "But she's alive. You did that."
Alex wanted to believe it was enough.
But deep inside, the Dragon Core stirred. It wasn't just reacting to the aftermath of battle—it was calling. As if something far larger had been awakened.
He wasn't wrong.
---
Far across the continent, deep beneath a city carved into black obsidian cliffs, a chamber buzzed with restrained fury.
Twelve figures sat in a circular room—the High Table of the Central Dominion. At the center hovered a hologram of the Vault Omega ruins, flames still licking its remains. Red alerts blinked around data feeds.
"This is unacceptable," growled Director Calros, his voice like gravel against metal. "How did one mutant, a child, bring down one of our highest security vaults?"
"Not just a child," replied the woman beside him. Her name was Madam Relis, and her Core signature was ice incarnate. "He possesses the Primal Dragon Lineage. The readings confirm it."
Across the table, a hunched figure laughed—a dry, rasping sound. "So the old myths were true… the dragon bloodline did not vanish. It evolved."
Another voice, calm and smooth, interrupted them. "It doesn't matter what blood he carries. He's a threat. And threats must be erased."
This was Director Vael, the man responsible for the military's Core Supremacy Initiative. His eyes were augmented, his hands cybernetic. Cold and cruel, he had no love for experiments he couldn't control.
Calros slammed a fist on the table. "This incident has already drawn attention from the other ruling powers. The mafia syndicates are sniffing around. And the Mutant Coalition is using this to stir rebellion."
Relis leaned forward. "Then we use it too. Let the world fear this boy. Let them believe he's a threat to balance. We push our agenda under the guise of safety."
Vael smiled faintly. "A new weapon, then. One to answer the dragon."
Calros narrowed his eyes. "Do you have something in mind?"
Vael turned to his assistant. "Show them Project Chimera."
A second hologram appeared—this one darker, unstable. A shifting outline of a humanoid shape wrapped in chains, its Core signature fluctuating wildly.
The council went silent.
"It's not ready," Relis warned. "You'll lose control."
Vael didn't blink. "We never had control. But if chaos is the battlefield, let our chaos be stronger."
---
Back at the Veilborn canyon, Specter gathered the team inside a war room carved into the rock. Holoprojections danced across the table—intel from across the continent. Cities on high alert. Mafia groups in motion. The government deploying new Core-nullifier weapons.
Alex stood beside Lena, Maya, Kaela (now propped up in a wheelchair), and Sira.
"This isn't just about Kaela anymore," Specter said. "Your presence has changed the game. They're afraid now—and fear makes them reckless."
Sira nodded. "The ruling organizations are fractured, but not weak. The Dominion will retaliate. The mafia will try to seize this chaos. And the Mutant Resistance…" she hesitated, "...may no longer trust you."
Alex blinked. "Wait—what? I thought—"
"You acted alone," Specter said. "You took down a military facility with Veilborn aid, not Resistance clearance. Their leaders see you as unpredictable."
Maya scoffed. "Let them. We saved lives."
Lena folded her arms. "But we did upset the balance. Whether we meant to or not."
Alex looked around. "So what now? Do we hide? Let them hunt us one by one?"
"No," Specter said. "Now… we unite those who still believe."
He turned to the map.
"There's an old safe zone—neutral territory, hidden beneath the ruins of the City of Aelion. If we can reach it, we can hold a summit. Bring together the fractured mutant clans, sympathetic officials, Veilborn elders, even rogue mafia defectors."
Sira raised a brow. "A summit? That's suicide. They'll send assassins."
"Or they'll listen," Specter countered. "Because for the first time in years, someone won against the Dominion. And they want to know how."
Everyone turned to Alex.
He swallowed. "I'm no politician."
"You don't need to be," Kaela said softly. "You're a symbol. People follow symbols. The Dragon Core chose you for a reason."
Alex looked down at his hand. The scars from the fight with Ravager were still fresh—but beneath them, power thrummed.
He nodded. "Then we go to Aelion."
---
That night, as the team prepared for departure, Lena found Alex alone, watching the stars.
"You okay?" she asked.
He hesitated. "I feel like I've crossed a line I can't uncross."
"You have," she said. "But that's not always a bad thing."
He looked at her. "Do you regret helping me?"
She snorted. "Please. I've been waiting to punch a Ravager in the face since I was ten."
They both laughed—brief, real.
Then Lena's tone grew serious. "There's something I haven't told you."
Alex turned. "What?"
She looked him in the eye. "I wasn't just in that facility to rescue you. I was looking for files—on my brother. He was part of Project Apex. One of the earliest Core mutants to go missing."
His eyes widened. "Did you find anything?"
She held out a data chip. "Maybe. But I need time to decrypt it."
Alex nodded. "Then we find the truth. For both of us."
---
Far away, in a smoky lounge filled with golden light and velvet whispers, a man with eyes like obsidian poured himself a drink. His suit was tailored from silks that shimmered like oil.
He turned to his guards, smile lazy.
"So… the dragon boy lives. Delightful."
Behind him, a silver-furred mutant knelt. "Shall we move, Lord Kairo?"
Kairo sipped his drink.
"Not yet. Let the fire spread. Then we'll see who survives the smoke."
---
And in the deepest part of the Dominion's labs, Project Chimera opened its eyes.
It did not scream.
It simply smiled.