Thousands of centuries ago, in the deep and divine silence of the Heart of Suiseiryu,
the Water Star Dragon watched over his domain. He was obsessed with the ocean and
the new lives forming within it, observing them with the detachment of a god. But as
the eras passed, he grew restless; the life he desired was not forming as he
envisioned. In an act of cosmic alchemy, he merged his own essence with the power
of his elder sister, Virella, to forge a new existence.
He succeeded. From that celestial union, the First Draco was born—the primordial
ancestor of all oceanic creation and the grandfather of the Mermaid and Lizardman
races. Under the First Draco, life evolved with terrifying speed. But time is a cruel
master, even to legends.
After centuries of rule, the First Draco grew old and weary. His body, once a pinnacle
of divine strength, became a tomb of sufering riddled with age and old hunting
injuries. When death finally claimed him in the middle of a hunt, his soul did not
ascend to the heavens. Instead, it remained trapped in the crushing depths of the
oceans, a restless spirit fueled by agony. For centuries, the soul of Draco drifted,
consuming corrupt spirits to maintain enough energy to remain conscious, slowly
twisting into something unrecognizable.
Eventually, the spirit returned to the empire it had helped birth. Draco looked upon his
grandchildren—the Lizardmen and Mermaids—and saw they flourished under the
blessing of Hskin granted by the god Aurex. But instead of grandfatherly pride, he felt
only the infinite, icy pain of loneliness. He felt forgotten. In his bitterness, the First
Draco made a vow: he would destroy everything the Water Star Dragon had created.
He traveled the dark currents for thousands of centuries more, eating every corrupt
soul in his path until his power rivaled the gods. He returned to the Aurex Empire to
enact his vengeance, only to be met by a 7-foot-tall Monster.
The Monster did not fight him; he simply consumed him. He swallowed Draco's soul
and his signature move as if they were nothing more than a passing breeze. Yet, in the
darkness of that consumption, the First Draco found something he hadn't expected.
He realized his consciousness was still alive. For the first time since his birth, the
crushing weight of loneliness vanished. He felt a satisfaction he hadn't known in
millennia. He was no longer a wandering ghost—he was part of something far more
familiar and powerful than his own creator. He was now a part of the Monster's palm,
a silent observer in a new, chaotic world.