The Dragon dreamed.
For centuries, Volcanica's sleep had been deep and absolute—undisturbed by war, sin, or the passing of kings. His covenant with Lugnica anchored the world, binding past, present, and future into a single, predictable flow.
That flow cracked.
The dragon's eye snapped open.
"…This is not deviation," Volcanica rumbled within the depths of the earth. "This is displacement."
Ancient runes carved into his scales flared, reacting to a presence that did not exist within the terms of the covenant. The pact strained, searching for familiar conditions—chosen rulers, foretold crises, authorized interventions.
It found none.
The dragon shifted, mountains groaning softly above his resting place.
"For prophecy to fail…" Volcanica growled, "…time itself must have been released."
That had never happened before.
In the capital, Anos Voldigoad felt the awakening instantly.
"So the final pillar stirs," he said. "Good."
Subaru stiffened. "Final pillar?"
"The dragon," Anos replied. "A failsafe. A guardian installed to correct the world when humans deviate too far from their assigned roles."
Subaru swallowed. "That sounds… bad."
"It is inefficient," Anos said calmly.
The sky darkened slightly—not with clouds, but with pressure. The land hummed as if remembering something it had forgotten.
In the castle, alarms rang.
"The Dragon Stone is overheating!"
"It's responding—no, reacting!"
"The covenant is destabilizing!"
Panic spread faster than reason.
Deep underground, Volcanica rose.
Not fully—only enough for his will to reach outward.
"Foreign law," the dragon's voice echoed across the world, felt rather than heard."You walk a path this world did not approve."
Anos looked toward the horizon, eyes calm.
"Approval is unnecessary," he replied.
Silence followed.
Then—
"You endanger continuity," Volcanica said. "Without fate, this world may fracture."
Anos stepped forward.
"Without fate," he answered, "this world may finally mature."
The dragon hesitated.
That hesitation alone was proof of damage.
"I was bound to protect a future," Volcanica rumbled. "But I no longer see one."
"That is because futures are no longer assigned," Anos said. "They are chosen."
The dragon's presence wavered.
Covenant lines cracked.
"…If I oppose you," Volcanica asked slowly, "will the world survive?"
Anos did not hesitate.
"Yes."
"And if I submit?"
"It will evolve," Anos said.
The dragon fell silent.
For the first time since the covenant's creation, Volcanica was forced to consider something outside his function.
Choice.
High above, Reinhard felt the shift and closed his eyes.
"So even the dragon is uncertain," he murmured.
In the capital, people felt it too—a deep, ancient tension loosening, like a hand slowly unclenching.
The dragon did not strike.
He returned to stillness—but not to sleep.
Watching.
Learning.
Anos Voldigoad turned away.
"The last borrowed pillar wavers," he said. "The world is nearly ready."
Behind him, Subaru exhaled shakily.
"Ready for what?"
Anos looked back, eyes steady.
"Ownership," he replied.
And deep beneath the land, the dragon remained awake—no longer a guardian of destiny, but a witness to change.