Ian could feel it.
"How is that even possible?" His eyes flickered with disbelief as he stared at the bronze gate, utterly stunned. As a Master of Alchemy, Ian knew nearly every magical material known to wizardkind, yet he had never seen anything so resilient. For a moment, he even considered taking the bronze gate back to the castle for study. This might be better than dragon hide.
Except…
"How the hell do I stop it?" he muttered, rubbing his temples as the gate continued to pulse with power, completely unaffected by any of his magic. For once, he felt his vast knowledge come up short.
And then, the bronze gate began to hum, a deep, resonant sound echoing through the valley. Chaotic air currents swirled once more. It was coming. It was coming again.
That same colossal Dragon, its wings vast enough to blot out the sky.
Only, this time, it did not breathe fire. Instead, arcs of dazzling golden lightning coiled around its body as it dived from the heavens like a thunderbolt. The resulting sonic boom split the air, making Ian's eardrums ache from the shockwave.
Its target was Ian.
Clearly, things weren't as simple as he'd assumed. If the dragon was merely being reset, its memories should have been erased with each cycle. But its behavior seemed to show that it remembered, every battle, every death. It was more like… a resurrection. The kind that would make Tom Riddle ecstatic, perhaps?
Before Ian could draw any conclusions, the ancient dragon's attack had already reached him, its mountain-like body tore through the air, unleashing a violent gale straight toward him.
Ian, however, remained calm. His wand spun once in his palm.
"Let's see how you handle gravity's embrace."
He seized command of the earth's gravity. The Dragon's fierce dive halted abruptly. Terror flickered in its eyes as its massive body suddenly became light as a feather, drifting helplessly upward into the sky. No matter how it struggled, it could no longer descend upon Ian.
"ROAR!" It could do nothing but rage helplessly.
"Down." Ian flicked his wand lightly. The gravity around the ancient Dragon intensified to a terrifying degree. With a thunderous BOOM, the dragon was slammed into the ground like a meteorite, gouging a massive crater from the earth.
For a creature of such power, the fall did little real harm. Yet under the crushing gravity, it could not so much as lift its immense body, much less take to the skies again.
"Let me test something." Ian stepped to the edge of the crater, wand aimed at the trapped ancient dragon below.
"Corrupted Energy, erupt!"
A tide of green energy surged outward, engulfing the dragon completely. This was a magic that targeted both life and soul, the most advanced form of the Avada Kedavra curse.
"Soul Annihilation!" Even the founders of black magic would have called this spell truly vile.
Under Ian's magic, the dragon's body, corroded by the green corruption, once again collapsed limply to the ground.
"Now then… if the soul's destroyed, can you still come back?" Ian muttered, his eyes shifting to the bronze gate. The mist within the gate began to churn and twist violently once more.
Moments later, The Dragon burst forth again. It was the same creature, whole and alive, its supposedly annihilated soul completely restored. The sight pushed Ian's understanding past its limits, defying every magical law he knew.
"ROAR!" The Dragon bellowed once more.
But this time, the instant it emerged from the bronze gate, it froze in midair. Within its slit-pupiled eyes, pure rage was gone, replaced by unmistakable fear and despair. Instead of attacking, it turned away with all its might, flapping its wings furiously in the opposite direction.
Was it… fleeing?
Yes. It was definitely fleeing.
Even the sound of its wings beating against the air trembled with panic. The mighty ancient Dragon, utterly terrified. It was plain to see, even beings of overwhelming pride could feel helpless fear before absolute power.
Ian withdrew his gaze and looked again at the bronze gate in the valley. At this moment, with the dragon gone, the gate returned once more to silence.
"What on earth is this?" Ian's brow furrowed tightly as he muttered under his breath, his wand spinning lightly between his fingers. "A temporal rift? An illusion barrier? Or… a gate of resurrection?" When knowledge failed him, all he could rely on was imagination.
"It can't be the Gate of Steins;Gate, can it?" Ian continued to speculate. He truly didn't understand why this Dragon was being forced to endure endless cycles of death and rebirth. If this was a rift in time and space, then why did it only ever release the same dragon? And if it were an illusion, why did it feel so real to the touch?
After a brief hesitation, Ian decided to approach the strange bronze gate.
However, before he could take flight,
"ROAAARRR!!!"
A thunderous roar tore through the night, the agonizing cry of the ancient Dragon. Before Ian could begin studying the bizarre gate, a shattering roar echoed from the distant heavens, filled with agony and fury.
"Hm?" Ian whipped around.
His pupils constricted sharply.
What he saw made his scalp prickle and his breath catch, an image so eerie and impossible that even his vast knowledge couldn't explain it.
The dragon that had fled earlier was now suspended midair, thrashing in berserk panic. It had escaped, and yet, now it looked as though it had reached the invisible edge of some unseen boundary, a barrier beyond comprehension.
A formless power bound it in place. Worse still, its scales began to lose their luster at a speed visible to the naked eye, turning gray, cracking apart, and flaking away like brittle ash. Flesh and blood withered into dust, until gleaming white bones were laid bare.
A moment later, those bones, too, were etched with spiderweb-like fractures, before shattering completely into powder that scattered into the night wind.
The entire process took only a few breaths, yet it played out like a horrifying fast-forward through time itself.
A creature that had lived for millennia was erased in an instant, as though an invisible hand had pressed the fast-forward button on its life. Nothing fell. Nothing remained.
Ian stood frozen, his scalp tingling, eyes locked on the sight. Then he turned his gaze back toward the bronze gate, and as he expected, within the swirling chaos of mist, the phantom of that same unfortunate Dragon began to take shape once again.
It was about to emerge once more.
But no one, not even Ian, could understand why. No matter how it fought, no matter what it chose, it could never escape its death.
"It must be connected to fate…" Ian murmured, flying closer to the bronze gate. Yet he found nothing familiar. Instead, carved upon its surface were Runes, ancient symbols representing none other than the God of Death.
(End of Chapter)
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