Vision blurred, swaying from the blood loss.
Mike began consuming the silver dragon, he felt a surge of power flood his body. He grew even larger—his claws sharper, his teeth like blades. At last, he felt something new: wings tearing free from his back. They stretched wide—twice the length of his body. His glossy black scales gleamed in the sunlight.
He was now a dragon.
A massive, four-story-tall black dragon.
Mike stood motionless, waiting. Hoping. Expecting something—anything—to change.
Nothing happened.
Instinctively, he began to flap his wings. Slowly, he lifted from the ground, gaining altitude. Higher and higher he rose, watching the land unfold beneath him. It was vast—almost endless.
In the distance, he spotted the collapsed dome. Clinging to the hope that it held the key to his transformation or return, he flew back toward it.
Landing in the center of the ruined temple, his bulk crushed statues as he touched down. Only one statue remained intact—the flawless black dragon at the center.
Mike stared at it. Waiting.
Nothing.
Frustration twisted inside him. With a roar, he slammed his claw into the statue.
A sharp clang rang out. The statue didn't budge.
"Useless…"
The cold, gravelly voice echoed in his mind.
Who are you?! What do you want from me?! Let me the fuck out of here! he screamed internally.
Silence.
No answers. No clues. No escape.
Weeks passed. Then months. Then years.
Time lost all meaning.
Mike began to forget Kelsey's face. He forgot his parents. Even his own name faded.
Only instinct remained.
Kill. Consume. Dominate.
He no longer returned to the dome. No longer spoke. No longer thought in words. He roamed the world, laying waste to everything he found. Consuming, growing—fueled by rage.
Then, on the far side of the world, he saw it:
Another black dragon.
Something stirred.
Without hesitation, Mike obliterated the mountain it stood on. The creature fled, and Mike gave chase.
"Finish this… or die already," the voice returned, unexpected after so many years.
Mike launched a stream of fire, scorching the dragon's wing. It crashed to the earth. He dove after it, unleashing more flame before smashing into it.
He crushed the dragon's skull beneath his massive foot.
And then, he started eating his kill.
"Finally… be gone."
The voice appeared in his mind.
Blinding pain shot through Mike's mind. The world went white.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A steady sound echoed.
Mike opened his eyes.
White walls. Bright lights filled his vision.
"He's awake!" a woman's voice cried. "Go get the doctor!"
He tried to move. Restraints pushing against his body. He growled.
A woman appeared in his vision. "Sir, you've been in a coma for fifteen days. The doctor is on their way."
The battles. The monsters. The rage.
Mike's muscles tensed. He flexed—and snapped every restraint.
"He's breaking out of the restraints! We need to sedate him!"
The nurse moved with a syringe in hand towards his arm.
He didn't think.
He reached out—grabbing her throat—and crushed it.
She dropped to the floor.
"He killed her! Lock the room down!" Another nurse shouted as she fled the room.
Sirens blared. Red lights flashed. Mike stumbled from the bed, falling to the floor. Instinct took over. He dropped to all fours, crouching low.
He tried to leap, like a dragon.
But he was only a man.
He smashed against the closing metal door.
To his left, a thick glass window revealed his reflection:
A man with tangled hair, a thick beard, and tightly coiled muscle. On all fours. Wild, glowing, reddish-yellow eyes.
Feral.
Unrecognizable.
And still not free.
"Hurry and let them know he's awake. He is strong like the others!" A man's voice shouted beyond the door.
Silence fell again while Mike waited. Staring at the door.
"Did you hear about the giant white structure that appeared?" a female voice asked from outside the door.
"Yeah, I saw it on the news. Did they say what it is?" another voice replied.
"No. They said a team might be sent to investigate, but with all the chaos these past two weeks, I just hope it's something good."
Mike sat against the wall, listening to the nurses talk.
His mind was fractured—reduced to instinct. Waiting to attack anything that moved.
A click sounded near the door.
"Hi, Michael. My name is Dr. Matthews," a calm voice said over the intercom. "I know you probably have many questions about your current situation. You're in a medical facility, and we've been treating you while you've been in a comatose state."
"Some men from the government will be here soon to talk to you about what is going on." The microphone clicked off.