The first thing he felt was pain.
Not the sharp kind, but the crushing ache of impact—like his entire body had been smashed flat. The ground beneath him was wet and cold. His chest heaved—but no air came. His mouth opened and closed on its own, and a stream of bubbles escaped.
Bubbles?
Something was wrong.
His arms—gone. He tried to push himself up, but only stubby fins slapped against the ground. His legs—gone too. In their place, a single tail flicked behind him, jerking his whole body with each twitch. His skin wasn't skin at all. It was slimy, covered in slick scales.
He tried to scream, but only bubbles burst from his mouth.
And then came the roar.
It split the world in two. Not just sound, but vibration—rattling through water, earth, and bone. Something vast was out there.
Wind slammed into him like a wall, flinging him across the slick ground. The air reeked of frost and ash. He didn't need eyes to know: something impossible loomed before him. Something ancient. Something vast enough to unmake the heavens with a single breath.
Somewhere over the chaos, a human voice thundered: "DODGE IT! JUST DODGE IT!"
He didn't know who shouted, but instinct screamed louder: move or die.
The air grew colder. His tiny body stiffened as a wave of frozen breath blasted across the land. The ground beneath him turned to ice. He slapped his fins desperately, flipping onto his side, and barely avoided being flash-frozen. The edge of the blast numbed his tail until it no longer obeyed him. A strange sense pulsed inside—like a health bar collapsing to a single sliver. One hit left.
The earth quaked. A shadow passed overhead.
Then the claw came down.
The impact shattered the ice where he had just been, shards exploding into the air. The shockwave launched him upward. He bounced once, twice, three times, each strike rattling his tiny body.
"Blub! Blub!" he squealed, flopping helplessly.
The vibrations shifted again. Air crackled. Static crawled across his scales. Above, lightning split the sky. Bolts rained down in deafening explosions, their heat boiling the water around him. One struck nearby, bursting the pond upward like a geyser. The spray hurled him into the air.
For one horrifying instant, he hung suspended, defenseless.
Then came the wingbeat.
Air pressure punched him sideways. He slammed into the ground, skidded, spun. His scales tore against the ice. The taste of metal filled his mouth. He thought, wildly—I'm going to die as a fish. A useless fish.
The ground trembled again. A new heat washed over him—thick, suffocating. Fire. The air vibrated with a low, building hum as something vast inhaled. Even without seeing, he felt it: a torrent of flame gathering, aimed directly at him.
His little body quivered. Memories slammed into him—fists pounding when he was human, laughter cutting deeper than bruises. Always contempt. Always nothing. Invisible. Useless.
Maybe this was it. Maybe dying here was still better than living that way.
The roar peaked.
And something inside him snapped.
He flopped—desperately. Not like a fish gasping for air, but like a creature fighting to exist. His tail smacked the ice with absurd force, and the world tilted. His body shot upward, past the furnace heat, past the storm winds.
Up. Up.
Through the clouds. Into the thin, frozen air where breath no longer mattered. The cold grew sharp, clean. Stars pricked the darkness above. His body still jerked uselessly in the void, but momentum carried him higher.
For one insane instant, he was a koi blazing among the stars.
Then gravity claimed him.
The fall was faster than thought. The air shrieked past. His body burned, flames licking his scales until he glowed like a meteor. Heat seared every nerve. His fins trailed fire like comet tails.
Below, the earth braced for ruin.
The white dragon looked up. Too late.
He hit.
The world exploded.
Forests flattened. The frozen river shattered to vapor. Mountains cracked like broken teeth.
The great white dragon screamed. Its massive body slammed into the earth, wings breaking, bones splintering, life draining in a roar that shook the heavens.
Silence fell.
He twitched once. Twice. Charred black, every nerve raw—but alive. Somehow alive. He coughed a single bubble, rolled, and flopped into the shattered river.
Behind him, the human voice rang out again, manic with triumph: "Treasure's mine! Hahahaha!"
Boots pounded on ice. Metal clanged as something heavy was pried loose. The man didn't even glance his way.
The koi floated on his side, stunned. The current pulled him downstream. Ash drifted on the surface.
He thought of his old life—of fists, jeers, shame. Of being overlooked.
Now, somehow, impossibly, he had killed a dragon.
Not with strength. Not with courage. With a bounce.
He twitched, flipped upright, and let the current take him. Burned, broken. But alive.
Alive.
Waiting for whatever came next.