(The God Emperor's POV)
Pain wakes me.
Not the soft ache of age. Not the dull pull of sleep. This pain is sharp and hungry. It crawls up my spine and claws into my skull.
I sit up.
The throne groans beneath my weight. Stone grinds. Chains of magic tighten around my body, then loosen as I draw breath. The world rushes back in waves of power and memory.
I have not moved like this in centuries.
The chamber is silent. Priests kneel frozen in fear. Candles gutter. The air shakes as if afraid of me.
I breathe in.
Dragon fire.
My eyes snap open.
I feel it at once. A pulse. A roar. A scream made of flame and blood. It rolls through the city like a storm and slams into my soul.
Impossible.
I rise slowly from the throne. My bones creak, then strengthen. Power floods my limbs as the wards feed me. Gold light bleeds from my eyes and spills across the chamber.
Three hundred years.
Three hundred years since I felt this.
Dragon magic.
Alive.
Awakened.
My lips curl into a smile I forgot I could make.
"So," I whisper. "You survived."
The priests whimper. One collapses. I do not look at them. They are nothing. Dust waiting to be burned.
I reach out with my senses.
The city opens to me.
Alarms scream. Towers flare. Shields rise. Mages run. Soldiers panic. Magic collides with magic and tears through the streets like fire through dry grass.
At the center of it all, a flame burns brighter than the rest.
Young.
Wild.
Untrained.
A laugh bubbles from my chest, deep and slow.
A girl.
I taste her power through the bond that links all dragon blood to my throne. It is raw. Unshaped. Beautiful.
Hunger grips me so hard my hands shake.
I step forward. The floor cracks under my feet. Each step sends a shock through the palace. Statues tremble. Walls hum.
Memories stir.
Dragons screaming.
Bones piled high.
Crowns forged from scale and fang.
I remember the night we won.
The Dragon King begging.
His fire fading as my blade drank his heart.
I remember the silence after.
No more roars. No more skies burning. Only humans left to rule the world.
Until now.
I close my eyes and focus.
The flame moves.
She is running.
I feel her fear. Her confusion. Her strength fighting itself. The dragon inside her is awake, but not free.
Ignaroth.
The name curls through my thoughts like smoke.
My smile widens.
So the old beast still clings to life.
Interesting.
I open my eyes and turn to my court.
"Sound the inner horns," I command.
My voice rolls through the hall like thunder. Magic carries it far beyond these walls.
Priests scramble to obey. Horns roar. The palace wakes in full.
I lift one hand and draw power from the throne. Runes blaze. The city map appears in the air before me, formed of light and fire.
There.
The Forbidden Zone.
Of course.
Always hiding in old scars.
I watch the flame surge and stumble, bright enough to blind wards meant to watch gods.
She does not know what she is yet.
I can fix that.
A high priest dares to speak. His voice shakes. "Divine Emperor, should we destroy it before it grows?"
I turn my head slowly.
He freezes.
I walk toward him. Each step makes him smaller. Weaker. I stop inches from his face.
"Destroy?" I repeat softly.
My eyes blaze brighter. Gold light pours from my skin. He screams as the magic burns his mind.
I lean close and whisper, "No."
He falls, smoke rising from his ears.
I straighten and face the hall.
"Prepare the Hunters," I say. "Call the Mage Legions. Wake the Chains."
Orders fly from my mouth like blades. Every word sharp. Every word final.
The court moves at once.
I return my gaze to the floating map.
The flame flares again, wild and desperate.
She is fighting it.
Good.
Strong vessels last longer.
I feel Ignaroth press against her soul, angry and proud. The bond between them tightens with every breath she takes.
I grip the arm of my throne.
That power will be mine.
I imagine it already.
Dragon fire pouring through my veins.
Immortality renewed.
The world kneeling again.
I reach deeper into the city and feel the old wards scream as they recognize me fully awake.
Fear spreads.
Hope dies.
I send my will outward like a net.
Every hunter feels it.
Every mage bows.
Every chain hums.
"Find her," I command through the magic. "Do not kill her. Break her if you must. Burn her if you must. But bring her to me."
The flame stutters.
For one brief moment, I feel her look back.
Not with her eyes.
With her soul.
Our gazes meet across stone and fire.
Her fear tastes sweet.
Her defiance tastes sweeter.
I laugh, loud and full, and the palace shakes with it.
"Yes," I murmur. "You will do nicely."
The map flares as forces converge.
The hunt begins.
I settle back onto my throne, power coiling around me like a crown reborn.
Three hundred years of waiting ends tonight.
I raise my hand and speak the words that seal her fate.
"Bring her to me alive. I need her power."