The tunnels were shaking long before Kairon reached the final chamber.
The vibration crawled along the walls like a living thing—pulsing, rhythmic, too slow and heavy to be machinery. It was the heartbeat of something vast. Something awake.
Behind him, the second dragon—Fyrion—kept stride effortlessly, his breath fogging the stale subterranean air with faint silver mist. His human form was still bleeding from the shoulder, but the wound barely slowed him. If anything, it made his aura sharper, like a blade honed by agitation instead of care.
"Your bond-mate is close," Fyrion said, voice low but steady. "The air here tastes of him. Fear. Pain. And… awakening."
Kairon swallowed hard. The fire under his skin flickered violently, responding to the closeness of Arin's aura.
"He's not my—"
But the denial died on his tongue.
Fyrion raised one pale brow. "He is. Whether you claim it or not."
They reached a twisted metal archway warped by heat—heat that had not been present until Kairon touched it moments ago. His aura had melted the hinges as if they were wax.
Beyond the arch lay a narrow corridor, then a circular chamber filled with pale luminescence.
And Arin's voice.
"Kairon…?"
Weak. Hoarse. But alive.
Kairon didn't walk—he burst into a sprint, stumbling through the corridor. Fyrion followed silently, as if giving him the moment.
The chamber was colder than the tunnels. Cold enough to mist Kairon's breath. Cold enough that his fire recoiled. The walls were carved with spiraling glyphs—fractured, jittering, pulsing like open wounds. They seemed to react to his presence, flickering in repulsion or warning.
Arin hung suspended inside a spherical barrier made of shifting metallic plates. The plates rotated slowly with mechanical precision, runes glowing faintly on their surfaces. They hummed in a way that made Kairon's teeth hurt.
Arin's eyes cracked open as he sensed them. His pupils were slit, his veins glowing faint gold—the mark of a mid-stage draconic surge. His power wasn't just active—it was spiraling beyond what a body could withstand.
"Kairon…" He tried to move. "I can't—control it—"
"You don't have to yet." Kairon pressed his hands against the barrier. Heat flared instantly, lighting the runes. "I'm here. Just hold on."
Arin gave a shaky laugh. "You sound more worried than usual."
"If you die," Kairon hissed, "I'm killing you."
"That makes… no sense," Arin wheezed.
Fyrion stepped beside them, examining the rotating plates. His irises flashed with draconic frost. "This is ancient. Older than the clans. Older than your Bureau. But functional." He pointed at the lowest ring. "Break that one. Everything collapses."
"Great," Kairon muttered. "Looks simple."
"It won't be," Fyrion said. "Look."
A new pulse tremored through the earth—deeper, louder, closer.
The chamber's far wall quivered, stone splitting in hairline fractures. Black roots—no, tendrils—pushed through. Wet. Viscous. Like something was growing through the rock.
Arin's eyes widened. "It's here. The Sentinel."
"No," Fyrion whispered. "Something worse."
The tendrils peeled back like fingers.
A massive figure revealed itself, dragging its body from the rock as if emerging from a cocoon. Its form was vaguely humanoid, but stretched, twisted, covered in plates of dark obsidian bone. Its eyes were pits of ember-colored smoke. Its limbs ended in hooked points that scraped sparks from the floor.
Not a Sentinel.
A proto-Sentinel.
Older. More primal.
Its head tilted, inhaling deeply. "Draa…gggooon…"
Kairon stiffened. The word rattled through the chamber like a broken drum.
Fyrion stepped in front of Kairon instinctively. "It wants him."
"Too bad," Kairon growled, aura erupting. "He's not on the menu."
The creature lunged.
The ground cracked under its weight. Tendrils shot toward Kairon like spears. He dodged left, dragonfire coating his hands. He blasted a beam that scorched the creature's shoulder, sending chunks of obsidian flesh shattering.
It shrieked—a metallic, grinding sound that made the runes flicker violently.
"Kairon!" Arin shouted. "The cage—the lower ring—you have to break it!"
"I'm busy!"
The creature swung its arm. A wall of tendrils swept across the chamber like a tidal wave. Fyrion leaped upward, frost exploding from his hands and freezing the roots mid-air. The frozen tendrils shattered like glass when he kicked off them, creating an opening.
"Kairon!" Fyrion barked. "Go!"
Kairon darted beneath the frozen mass, sliding toward the cell's base. The lower ring was rotating slower than the others—the weak point.
He placed his burning palm against it—
And screamed.
Agony seared through him as the ring siphoned his fire instantly. It didn't just resist his power—it stole it. Consumed it. Devoured it.
His knees buckled.
"Kairon!" Arin slammed his hands against the inner side of the barrier. "Don't touch the runes directly! They're designed to drain dragonfire!"
"Well," Kairon gritted out, "that would have been great to know!"
The proto-Sentinel screeched again. The frozen tendrils broke free. Fyrion blasted another wave of frost, but the creature was adapting—its bone plates thickened visibly, shielding its core.
Kairon forced himself upright. "Then how do I break it!?"
Arin shut his eyes, forcing breath into his lungs. Light crawled across his skin, concentrating at his chest. "Kairon. Listen. My aura—when it spikes—it disrupts the rotation."
Kairon's eyes widened. "Arin. No—don't push your surge—"
"I have to."
The dragon inside Arin roared—silent but earth-shaking. The plates around him vibrated. The runes destabilized.
Fyrion's head snapped toward him. "He's forcing his awakening—he'll kill himself!"
"Trust me," Arin whispered. "Just hit the ring when I say so."
Kairon's heart slammed against his ribs. "Fine. But if you die—I'm dragging you back myself."
Arin's lips quirked. "You'd… better."
The proto-Sentinel pivoted toward Arin, sensing the rising energy. It launched itself at the cage, claws reaching.
Fyrion intercepted, slamming his fist into its chest. Frost detonated outward, coating the beast's torso. It screeched and swiped, but Fyrion didn't give ground.
"HURRY!" he shouted. "I can't hold it!"
Arin inhaled shakily. His aura glowed gold—then blazed. His back arched as the surge peaked.
"KAIRON—NOW!"
Kairon unleashed everything.
Fire exploded from him in a torrent—white-gold, uncontrolled, the same wild flame that had shattered the Academy roof weeks earlier. The confinement ring, destabilized by Arin's surge, cracked down the center.
The runes split.
The plates halted.
Then the cage detonated.
Light flooded the chamber as metal shards blasted outward like a bursting star.
Kairon was thrown backward, crashing into the wall. Dust rained from the ceiling. The air screamed with heat.
When he staggered to his feet, the containment cell was gone.
Arin collapsed to one knee, free but trembling violently. The surge hadn't stopped—it was still climbing, burning through him like molten lightning.
Fyrion froze mid-fight, staring at Arin with alarm. "He's going to shift—too early—he'll rip his body apart!"
"I know!" Kairon lunged for Arin.
But the proto-Sentinel was faster.
It shot forward, tendrils aimed directly at Arin's chest—
Kairon intercepted, taking the blow with his own body. The impact sent a crack down his sternum. Pain exploded through his torso—but he held on, grabbing the tendrils and igniting them with raw white flame.
They shriveled instantly.
The proto-Sentinel recoiled, screeching.
Arin blinked in shock. "Why—why would you take that!?"
Kairon grinned weakly. "Because… you're an idiot. And someone has to keep you alive."
Arin laughed breathlessly, half delirious. "That's… unfair…"
Fyrion shouted a warning—
"Kairon! Behind you!"
The proto-Sentinel leaped again.
Kairon spun around, fire roaring up his spine—
But he wasn't fast enough.
A second body crashed between them.
Fyrion slammed into the creature, frost coating the floor in a spiraling explosion. The proto-Sentinel stumbled backward, screeching and clawing at its frozen limbs.
Fyrion snarled. "You don't touch him."
His aura surged—
And for the first time, Kairon saw it clearly.
The second dragon's full power.
The air crystallized. Frost spiraled upward with hurricane force. Fyrion's human form flickered, scales rippling along his skin. His pupils split. His breath became misting storms.
The proto-Sentinel lunged again, desperate, feral.
Fyrion caught it by the throat.
And threw it through a wall.
Stone shattered like paper.
The entire chamber trembled.
Arin nearly collapsed, catching himself on Kairon's arm. "Is he—on our side?"
Kairon glanced at Fyrion, still wreathed in ice and fury. "Right now? Yes. Long-term? I have no idea."
The tunnel beyond the broken wall rumbled. Dust rained from the ceiling. The proto-Sentinel's shrieks echoed from deeper within.
But so did something else.
A deeper groan.
Older.
Hungrier.
Arin's eyes widened. "It's waking. The real one. The thing beneath all this."
Fyrion returned, frost dripping from his hands. "The proto-Sentinel wasn't guarding a facility. It was guarding a seal."
Kairon stiffened. "A seal on… what?"
Fyrion met his gaze, expression grim.
"On a creature that predates dragonkind itself."
The ground split.
A massive claw—twenty feet long—burst from the chasm under the chamber.
A roar followed—
A roar so ancient it bent the light.
Kairon grabbed Arin and pulled him back.
Fyrion's breath hitched.
The ancient creature opened a single colossal eye beneath the floor.
It was awake.
It was aware.
And it was staring directly at Arin.