In the hushed cradle of the ancient stone amphitheatre, where time itself seemed to linger like a reluctant ghost among the weathered tiers, Phei stood like he'd been just been reborn.
A new ability thrummed in him like a quiet thunder he'd just swallowed, an arsenal of primordial edges resting against his will, and deep within his chest the Dragon Dominance coiled like a sleeping sovereign, its cosmic gravity a constant, velvet pressure against his ribs.
He let a single breath slip free, slow and measured, carrying with it the scent of forests older than kingdoms and the faint, metallic tang of power freshly tasted. Then he smiled—small, precise, and edged with the kind of amusement that had once toppled empires.
It was the smile of a man who had looked into the abyss and found it politely averting its gaze.
"Eira."
"Yes, master?"
"I'd like to test something."
"Of course, master."
