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The world did not welcome me.
It hunted me.
I woke to the sound of claws scraping stone.
My eyes snapped open, instincts screaming before thought could form. Something lurked outside the crevice—sniffing, circling, waiting. The narrow gap protected me from larger beasts, but it also trapped me like a coffin.
I didn't breathe.
Seconds stretched. The scraping grew closer, followed by a wet inhale. The smell of blood reached it.
My blood.
So this is it? Eaten before I even learn the rules?
My claws dug into the ground as my body tensed. Running was impossible. Fighting was suicide. I was injured, starving, and barely conscious.
But I wasn't dead yet.
The warmth in my chest—the dragon core—reacted. Its pulse quickened, weak heat spreading through my veins like a fragile flame refusing to die.
Instinct whispered one word.
Breathe.
I opened my mouth.
The air burned.
A spark escaped my throat, no larger than a candle flame. It flickered and died—but the effect was instant. The presence outside recoiled.
A sharp hiss echoed, startled.
Fear.
Not of me.
Of what I could become.
I didn't celebrate. I memorized the feeling.
So this body can breathe fire… even like this.
Minutes passed. Then more. Eventually, the footsteps retreated into the depths of the cavern.
Only then did my strength give out.
My body shook uncontrollably. That single spark had drained everything I had left. If the creature had attacked anyway, I would have died.
Luck had spared me.
Once.
"That won't happen again," I thought.
This world didn't reward mercy. It tested everything that lived—and devoured those that failed.
When I could move, I crawled deeper into the crevice. Dark. Tight. Miserable.
Safe—for now.
Time lost meaning. I survived on instinct alone, licking moisture from stone, conserving energy, never sleeping deeply. Every time my eyes closed, I heard claws.
Then hunger came.
Sharper than pain. My body demanded fuel—energy to repair itself. The dragon core's pulse weakened with every passing hour.
Starvation would kill me just as surely as a predator.
When I finally emerged, the cavern looked the same.
I didn't.
My movements were steadier. My breathing smoother. Pain still existed—but it no longer controlled me.
I wasn't strong.
But I wasn't helpless.
Movement near a shallow pool caught my eye. A small creature—lizard-like, slow, unaware.
Prey.
I lowered my body, senses sharpening. No morality crossed my mind. No hesitation.
Only hunger.
Only survival.
I lunged.
The fight was ugly and clumsy. I took scratches. Blood filled my mouth—mine and its. But my jaws closed around its neck, and the struggling stopped.
Warmth flooded my body as I fed.
The dragon core pulsed.
Stronger.
I lifted my head, blood dripping from my fangs, and understood the truth of this world.
Nothing here would save me.
Nothing here would pity me.
If I wanted to live—
I would have to become something worth fearing.
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