The derelict station groaned around them, its metal skeleton drifting in silence. Kaelen sat on the edge of a storage crate, trying to steady his breath. The dragon's fire hadn't quieted—it pulsed inside him, restless, like a caged storm.
Every beat of his heart carried whispers: Rise. Burn. Break your chains.
Tessa crouched nearby, setting a proximity beacon on the floor. "There," she said, brushing dust from her hands. "If anything bigger than a rat comes within two klicks, we'll know."
Kaelen smirked faintly. "Do rats live in space now?"
She shot him a look. "Focus, Kael. You're glowing again."
He glanced at his arms. Thin tendrils of black fire traced under his skin, fading as quickly as they came. "It's not me," he muttered. "It doesn't stop."
Because you resist, the dragon's voice growled inside him. You fight me when you should yield. Shadow does not bend to fear—it devours it.
Kaelen clenched his fists, fighting the urge to answer aloud. He didn't want Tessa to think he was unraveling faster than he already was.
But she saw anyway. She always did. "It's talking to you again, isn't it?"
He met her eyes and gave the smallest nod.
Her lips pressed into a hard line. "Kael, this is dangerous. You don't know what it wants."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "It wants to live. And it wants me to carry it."
"And if carrying it means losing yourself?" she snapped. "You're letting it crawl inside your head, Kael. That's how the Empire wins—not with guns, but by twisting people until they're not people anymore."
Her words stung because they were true. He'd seen it during the war—soldiers implanted with control chips, commanders rewired until they were loyal machines. He'd sworn never to become someone else's weapon.
But the fire in his chest whispered: You are not theirs. You are mine.
Before Kaelen could answer, the proximity beacon flared red.
Tessa was on her feet instantly, blaster drawn. "Ship inbound," she hissed. "Fast. No signal ID."
Kaelen moved to the viewport. His gut turned cold. A sleek black frigate slid from the shadows, its hull marked with the obsidian sigil of the Empire.
"They found us," he whispered.
The frigate's hangar bay opened, releasing a swarm of drones that spread like vultures. Their scanners lit up the wreck, searching.
Tessa cursed under her breath. "They're sweeping for energy signatures. And guess who's glowing like a bloody star?"
Kaelen's hand went to his chest. The fire pulsed hotter, as though eager to be seen. They come for the flame. Let them. Burn them.
"No," Kaelen hissed under his breath. "Not like this."
Tessa grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the cockpit. "We need to run."
But as they sprinted through the corridor, Kaelen staggered, clutching his head. Shadows poured across his vision, reality bending. He saw flashes—drones torn apart midair, the frigate split open by black fire, stars igniting in his hands.
Yield, the dragon demanded. Let me loose.
Kaelen gritted his teeth. "Not your weapon."
The dragon's roar shook his skull. Without me, you are ash. With me, you are everything.
"Kael!" Tessa's voice yanked him back. She was half a step ahead, pulling him into the cockpit. He collapsed into the co-pilot's chair, sweat dripping down his face.
The Starling roared to life, thrusters blasting. Tessa yanked the ship free of the station's shadow, weaving between drifting debris.
The Empire drones swarmed after them. Energy bolts lit up the dark.
"Hold on!" Tessa shouted, diving the ship into a spiral. Kaelen's stomach lurched as they threaded a needle of shattered hull plating.
The fire inside him surged. His vision split—the cockpit in one eye, the dragon's wings in the other. He felt the drones like insects crawling against his skin, their targeting systems painting him in red.
And in the pit of his soul, something snapped.
Kaelen's hands shot to the console—not guiding, but channeling. Black fire leapt from his palms, racing through the ship's systems. The Starling screamed as its weapons lit with unnatural flame.
Tessa's eyes widened. "Kael—what are you—"
The guns roared, but not with plasma. With shadow. Bolts of obsidian fire streaked into the swarm, tearing drones apart like paper. Their explosions painted the void in fractured light.
Kaelen gasped, the power tearing through him like a storm. "I—I can feel them. I can—"
"Kael, stop!" Tessa snapped. She grabbed his arm, grounding him. "You're burning yourself out!"
But the dragon's voice thundered in his skull: More. Unleash more.
Kaelen fought it, shaking, torn between surrender and survival. He looked at Tessa—her hand gripping his, her eyes blazing with defiance, not fear. And in that moment, he chose.
"No," he whispered to the dragon. "Not like this. Not if it costs me me."
The fire shuddered, resisted—then recoiled, retreating back into his chest. The weapons fell silent. The Starling drifted, engines sputtering.
The remaining drones closed in.
Tessa cursed, slamming the thrusters. "Next time you want to play god, Kael, pick a better moment!"
They dove into the asteroid field, debris crashing against their shields. Behind them, the Empire frigate loomed, relentless.
Kaelen slumped in his chair, chest heaving. The fire still smoldered inside, angry at his refusal.
And Tessa, breathing hard, shot him a look that was half fury, half something else. "If you ever do that again without warning me, I'll shoot you myself."
Kaelen managed a weak smile. "Noted."
But deep inside, he knew the truth: he was losing the fight. The dragon wasn't just in him anymore. It was becoming him.
---
Far behind, aboard the Empire frigate, Commander Deyne watched the battle feed with cold precision. He had seen the shadow fire. He had felt its pulse.
"The host is confirmed," he said to his officers. "Alive. Unstable."
He turned, eyes glinting. "Prepare the Harrow device. We'll tear the beast from him, piece by piece."