Streets of Ravetham

The void of space around the moon was silent, oppressive. Kaelen floated in the dark expanse, his massive dragon form shimmering with an aura of raw power. Zagoth, the once-mighty dragon, prideful and fierce, had met a brutal end. His headless corpse lay twisted and broken, a god brought low by the treacherous hand of Nys’trinara. Kaelen’s violet eyes flickered with a mix of anger and grief as he watched the last embers of Zagoth’s life fade. The gravity bomb—Nys’trinara’s secret weapon, a device meant to obliterate their entire solar system—had claimed its prey.

Zagoth had always been too proud, too confident, but the way he died left a sour taste in Kaelen’s mouth. Not in battle or by some epic struggle, but by eating that bomb, swallowing his fate whole. It was grotesque, undignified, and everything the old dragon wouldn’t have wanted.

Nys’trinara, though, had come prepared. The power she wielded was unfathomable. She had been an enemy, yes, but once—long ago—she had been something more. Kaelen barely recognized her now. Ten years of training had turned her into a force of nature, capable of battling not only Kaelen in his dragon form, but also Zagoth himself. Her fury had been absolute.

But even in her moment of triumph, she had faltered. Zagoth consumed her final weapon, the gravity bomb meant to tear them all asunder, and in that moment, her focus had been her undoing. Kaelen had seized the opportunity. His claws, now burning with the full wrath of his ancient bloodline, had struck true—cleanly severing her head from her body in a swift motion that left no room for error. Her decapitated form hit the ground with a dull thud, her once fierce eyes staring into the void.

Kaelen’s breath was ragged, each inhale laced with the lingering traces of battle. Nys’trinara lay dead at his feet, her power extinguished, her plot undone. He crouched beside Zagoth’s colossal corpse, remembering his fallen brother’s words:

"If I am ever to fall, eat my heart. That power is yours to claim."

With reverence, Kaelen reached into the dragon’s chest, his hands slick with blackened blood, and tore free the heart of Zagoth. It pulsed in his grip, still faintly alive, a monstrous core of pure energy. Without hesitation, Kaelen brought the heart to his lips and consumed it whole.

Pain. Blinding, burning pain tore through him as the dragon’s essence merged with his own. Every cell in his body felt as though it were tearing apart and reforging itself, infused with power beyond reckoning. His vision blurred, and he saw stars, galaxies, universes unfolding before his mind’s eye. His limbs trembled with newfound strength, a raw, unchained force coursing through him, filling the void that the battle had left behind.

But Kaelen wasn’t done. Zagoth’s body deserved more than to rot in the dust of a battlefield. He wouldn’t allow his friend’s legacy to be tarnished. With a thought, Kaelen summoned his will and cast Zagoth’s remains into the sun, where they would be incinerated in the heart of a star—honored as the dragon king deserved.

Nys’trinara’s corpse, however, held a different purpose. Her heart, still intact, would be the ultimate gift for his children. Power ran through the bloodlines of Kaelen’s family, but this—this was a gift that would elevate them beyond the limits of mere mortals.

His daughter Xyra had pushed him to claim the presidency of the United States, a position he had never craved but now held. He and Aeliseth had agreed on the shift in power; his strength far outstripped hers, and even she could not deny it. It was only fitting that he ascend to the highest rank of power in this broken world.

Teleporting from the desolate battlefield, Kaelen vanished from the void of space and reappeared in the heart of Ravetham.

The cafeteria was loud with the din of conversation, but Xyra barely heard any of it. Her focus was on her newest toys—Ennuy Null and his crew: Payback, Charm, Ragdoll, and Frostie. They sat across the room, shoveling food into their mouths, isolated in their quiet corner, their presence almost ghostly amid the clamor. Ennuy’s lavender hair and brown skin stood out in the crowd, his silver tattoos marking him as a mystery. Her mind swirled with thoughts of power, dominance, and how best to use these degenerates from Umbrus Pact. They were a wild bunch, unrefined but useful. She’d enjoy breaking them, molding them into weapons for her Drakonis Pact.

She was seated with her two younger sisters, Selene and Celesse, both of whom seemed less interested in their lunch and more in their father’s recent exploits. Selene’s attention was glued to her projector watch, eyes darting across the glowing screen.

"Father’s done it,” Selene said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s defeated Nys’trinara.”

Celesse rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Of course, he did. But some idiots in the comments think it might’ve been one of her clones. They say the Draconians wouldn’t send one of their princesses on a suicide mission with a gravity bomb.”

Xyra smirked, crossing her arms. “Desperation makes people do foolish things. They were out of options. Nys’trinara was arrogant, and she paid the price. But poor Zagoth… He sacrificed himself for us.”

Celesse’s expression softened at the mention of Zagoth. “I wonder if Draken and Seraphis are okay.”

Before Xyra could reply, a familiar surge of energy swept through the cafeteria, and Kaelen appeared in a swirl of dark magic, holding three ornate containers. His presence was a weight that pressed down on the room, silencing everyone who dared glance in his direction. He approached their table with the authority of a king.

Without a word, he handed a container to Xyra, one to Selene, and the last to Celesse. His voice was low, commanding.

“Drink this, in honor of the mighty dragon Zagoth and for your father. Your brother, Arian, has already had his and said it tasted divine.”

Xyra’s eyes gleamed as she took the container from his hands, feeling the weight of what it contained. Her heart raced in anticipation. Without hesitation, she removed the lid, revealing a thick, crimson liquid inside—Nys’trinara’s blood, potent and brimming with power. She raised the container to her lips and drank deeply, feeling the dark energy flood her veins, igniting every nerve in her body with raw, unfiltered power.

Her sisters followed suit, their eyes wide as the elixir flowed through them, transforming them from within.

Xyra felt her pulse quicken, her vision sharpening as her entire being surged with newfound strength. She gave her father a wide, feral grin. “Thank you, Father. You may go now.”

Kaelen laughed, his deep voice reverberating through the room, then vanished in a blink, leaving behind an air of dominance that lingered in his absence.

But Xyra’s focus was inward now. The power coursing through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt stronger, faster, sharper. Every inch of her body thrummed with energy, and she could feel her very soul expanding, touching realms she had never known.

Her sisters, too, were wide-eyed with the same realization, their gazes locked on each other as they tried to comprehend what they had just consumed.

Xyra licked her lips, a predatory glint in her eyes.

This was just the beginning.