The world didn't snap back all at once.
For a few long heartbeats, the arena—the dimension, the whole universe as far as most people cared—hung caught between silence and aftershock. Smoke drifted in shimmering veils over the crater where Danny had ended the fight. The air hummed with leftover power, buzzing against skin and fur like static after a storm.
The dimensional bubble's inner surface slowly stopped wobbling. Runes calmed from frantic red back to a glowing, stable blue. The hovering cameras, those that hadn't been obliterated, flickered, struggled, then steadied.
Down on the shattered battleground, the Wolf King pushed himself to a sitting position.
He was still.
Breathing. Awake. Alive.
His fur was singed in places. His regal mantle of flame was gone, replaced by the barest wisps of blue-gold flickering along his shoulders. His body bore the kind of exhaustion that came not just from physical strain, but from the soul-deep knowledge that he'd met something larger than himself and survived.
He let out a long breath, steam curling in the air.
Opposite him, Danny stood.
Just Danny.
No towering dragon. No molten scales. No giant bat-like golden wings stretching across the sky. Just a young man with messy hair and bright, tired eyes, his clothes torn, soot smeared along his jaw.
He looked… normal.
If you ignored the way the crater still glowed faintly at his feet.
If you ignored the subtle, golden currents coiling around him like lazy serpents of light.
He met the Wolf King's gaze with an uncertainty so human it cut through all the myth that had just happened.
The world finally remembered itself.
The crowd exploded.
The noise hit in a wave—screams, howls, cheers, sobs, drums, howling instruments from a dozen star systems. Wolves threw their heads back and roared. Dragons-in-training shouted until their throats tore. Spectators of stranger shapes and species unleashed every sound their bodies could make.
Up in the commentary booth, Jimmy was sobbing openly into his microphone.
"HE DID IT—HE DID IT—WE DIDN'T DIE—WE DIDN'T EVAPORATE—JULIAN I'M STILL HERE—ARE YOU HERE—AM I HALLUCINATING YOU—"
Julian, eyes shining behind his glasses, dabbed at the corner of his eye. "I am here, Jimmy. We have bore witness to a miracle. Also, we are contractually obligated to keep commentating."
"RIGHT," Jimmy hiccuped. "YES. AMAZING. PROFESSIONALISM. I AM A PROFESSIONAL WHO JUST WATCHED A GOLDEN DRAGON POWERBOMB THE KING OF WOLVES INTO THE FLOOR."
The crowd's chanting finally coalesced into one name.
"DAN-NY! DAN-NY! DAN-NY!"
He swallowed.
The Wolf King pushed himself to his feet, slow but steady.
The arena quieted again—not completely, but enough for the subtle change in the air to be felt. The King took a few careful steps across the cracked battlefield until he stood directly in front of Danny and, for the first time anyone could remember, had to tilt his head slightly up to meet someone's gaze.
Danny had straightened without meaning to. The golden threads dancing beneath his skin gave him a strange, radiant presence.
The King studied him.
"You stand at the end of a mountain most never even see," he said. His voice had lost none of its weight, but it held something new too: respect. "You are not finished climbing. But you are no longer at the bottom."
Danny shifted, not quite sure what to do with that. "I… I didn't do it alone."
"You never do," the King said. "No one does. Not even kings."
He lifted a hand—less glowing now, claws faintly charred—and placed it on Danny's shoulder.
A murmur passed through the stands like wind through grass.
"I once believed," the King continued, "that only wolves had the duty of ruling their territories. But you…" His eyes burned brighter. "You are not just a dragon. You are a golden dawn of creation. You will not simply rule anything. You will shape it."
Danny didn't know how to answer that.
So he didn't.
He just held the King's gaze, heart pounding, throat tight.
Somewhere in the medbay levels, Jake screamed so loud he fogged the glass on his tank. "THAT'S MY BROTHER!"
Swift laughed, then winced as his own injuries reminded him he still existed.
A familiar figure limped her way down from the royal balcony. The Wolf Queen's fur shimmered in regal layers of silver and white, her eyes sharp and calculating, her step steady despite the damage she'd taken earlier in the tournament.
She stopped beside her husband and looked Danny over with a cool, appraising gaze.
"And this is the one who turned my royal arena into a crater field," she said.
"Sorry," Danny said automatically.
Her lips quirked into an amused smile. "We were already planning renovations. You simply… accelerated our schedule." She glanced at the King. "He will be useful."
The King's gaze softened as it turned to her. "Very."
For a moment, they were just two predators leaning into each other's gravity, thinking of futures that stretched beyond this arena, beyond this planet. For a moment, Danny felt like a kid again, glimpsing something older than his comprehension.
Then a shadow padded over the broken stone.
Shadeclaw approached with his usual grace, but his movements were slower, more measured. The shadowwolf had taken brutal punishment in his own fight with Danny, and though the medbots had healed his body, exhaustion still clung to him.
He stopped a few paces away, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head deeply to the Wolf King.
"Your Majesty," Shadeclaw said. "Permission to… diverge from the pack."
Murmurs rippled through the wolf clans in the stands.
The King watched him calmly. "You wish to stray?"
"I wish," Shadeclaw said, lifting his gaze, eyes glinting, "to hunt alongside something new."
His gaze flicked to Danny.
Danny met it. Shadow met gold. Predator met predator.
The King was quiet for a long moment.
Then he stepped forward, placing a hand on Shadeclaw's shoulder.
"Then go," he said. "But know that wherever you range, you are still mine. My blessing follows."
Shadeclaw's breath shuddered out. "It is enough."
He rose, turning to stand beside Danny without asking if he could.
Danny blinked. "So… you're… with us now?"
Shadeclaw's lips pulled back into a sharp, satisfied grin. "For now. Until something better to hunt appears."
"I'm… strangely okay with that," Danny said.
A new presence limped in from the far side of the crater.
Jade Killington's hoodie was torn, his arms wrapped in bandages where his skin had cracked under the recoil of his shotgun-chi. He walked with a rough swagger, but there was a stiffness in his gait that betrayed just how much his earlier fight had taken out of him.
He stopped in front of Danny and scratched nervously at his cheek.
"Oi," he muttered. "Dragon."
Danny raised a brow. "Yeah?"
Jade jerked his thumb vaguely in the direction of their earlier battle. "'Bout what I said before. The… y'know. 'Show me if you're worth hating,' an' all that."
Danny's expression tightened.
Jade huffed. "I was in fight mode. Chatting pure rubbish. You ain't some thing I hate. You're—" He glanced at the crater. "You're the real deal, mate. Didn't mean it like I said it. Was just… hyping myself up."
Danny exhaled, tension easing. "I get it. I say dumb stuff when I'm in a fight too."
"Oh, I noticed," Jade smirked. "You punched me into a new accent, bruv."
They both laughed, the sound sharp and tired but real.
Jade stuck his hand out. "We cool?"
Danny clasped his forearm, gripping tight. "We're cool."
Jade's smirk turned into a grin. "Next time we fight, it'll be without all the baggage. And I'll knock you flat."
Danny snorted. "Looking forward to it."
A small, hesitant presence stepped closer.
Mira stood on the cracked ground like she wasn't sure she was allowed to be there. Her hair fluttered in the residual wind stirred by Danny's earlier dragon form, eyes darting between the King, the Queen, Shadeclaw, and Danny.
Shadeclaw turned, regarding her with patient intensity.
"You still considering my offer?" he asked.
She swallowed. "To… become like you?"
"Not exactly me," Shadeclaw said. "But sharpened. Focused. A shadow with purpose."
Her fingers curled at her sides.
"I'm tired of being the weakest one in the room," she said softly. "Tired of being knocked down and left behind."
Danny stepped in before Shadeclaw could speak.
"You're not the weakest," he said. "Not by a long shot. But if you want to get stronger… you can. Just don't let the strength swallow you."
Shadeclaw tilted his head. "Sensible advice. I've been swallowed by my strength before."
Mira looked between them, then nodded slowly. "Then… I'll try."
Shadeclaw extended a hand.
She took it.
A quiet pact formed—a shadow assassin prince and a girl rebuilding herself.
A blur of bronze crashed into Danny from the side.
Jake tackled him in a hug so hard they both almost toppled back into the crater.
"BRO!" Jake screamed, shaking him violently. "BRO, YOU WERE A DRAGON—YOU WERE A WHOLE DRAGON—YOU THREW A KING—"
"Ribs, ribs, ribs," Danny wheezed, laughing as he pried Jake off.
Jake pulled back, eyes wet, grin impossibly bright. "I knew you were crazy strong, but that was—like—like—like fanart times a million—"
Swift arrived more slowly, still bandaged, every movement carefully measured so as not to reopen wounds. He stopped beside them, arms folded, silver eyes soft.
"You did it," Swift said, voice quiet but full. "You finally stopped holding back… just enough."
Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I… think I only started figuring out what I actually am."
"Good," Swift said. "We're supposed to figure that out together." He bumped Danny's shoulder gently. "Don't go transcending without the rest of us next time."
"Yeah," Jake said, jabbing a thumb into his own chest. "Golden Buddy, Silver Buddy, and Bronze Buddy, remember? We're like a collectible set."
Danny smiled, tired and bright. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Jake threw an arm around his neck. "Also I demand flying lessons."
"Absolutely not," Swift said immediately.
Up above, Jimmy finally managed to pull himself fully into his chair again.
He took a deep breath. "Ladies, gentlemen, assorted interdimensional entities… I don't even know how to summarize what we just saw. Wolf King versus Golden Dragon. Royal throne versus cosmic dawn. And in the end—" He flailed one arm toward the crater. "—we all survived, mostly intact, and nobody exploded permanently! That's a win!"
Julian leaned back, hands steepled, eyes shining. "You have witnessed the reshaping of an era, dear viewers. In a few years, there will be children boasting about how their grandparents were in the stands the day the Golden Dragon woke up."
"Urgh," Jimmy groaned. "Don't remind me we just aged live on air."
Julian turned to him. "What would you call this arc, Jimmy? 'The Birth of a Golden Dawn'? 'The Tournament of Craters'? 'My Co-Host Screams for Seventy-Two Consecutive Hours'?"
"Put that last one as a bonus feature," Jimmy muttered.
The arena floor shuddered once more, but this time the quake wasn't from combat.
A thunderous hum rose from beneath the stands.
Runes lit up along the arena's edge, flaring gold and blue. At the far end, where massive gates had admitted fighters and kings and monsters, a new structure unfurled—a towering arch of shimmering energy framed by reinforced metal and floating sigil-rings.
The air beneath it wavered like heat over a desert.
A portal.
Golden light coalesced within it, swirling into a stable ovoid.
The crowd murmured in confusion.
From inside the portal, a formation of figures emerged.
Uniforms.
B.U.D.D.I.E.S.
At the head strode Admiral Yalicon, her long coat trailing, face as severe as ever, eyes sharp as if she hadn't just watched a dragon stand over a fallen king like it was Tuesday. Beside her walked a new figure—Commander Harridan, all squared shoulders and stern lines, bearing the expression of someone perpetually unimpressed.
Their escort fanned out behind them—officers, support staff, a handful of armored specialists.
Jimmy gulped audibly. "Okay, now I feel like I'm in trouble and I didn't even do anything this time."
Julian smoothed his jacket. "That is the face of a commander whose job is to yell at dragons. I approve."
The group crossed the broken arena with purposeful strides, carefully navigating craters and melted stone as if it were routine.
Admiral Yalicon stopped a few feet from Danny.
Her gaze swept over him, then moved to the Wolf King, then up to the dimensional scars overhead, then back.
"You seem to have had a productive day," she said.
"Uh," Danny answered eloquently. "Sorry about the floor."
"We budgeted for worse," she replied. "You didn't cause a planetary fissure or detonate the moon. In Buddies terms, this is 'minor property damage.'"
Commander Harridan's eye twitched. "Minor?"
"By our standards," Yalicon said smoothly. She lifted a small slate and tapped it. "This tournament was not just spectacle. It was also a recruitment screen."
Jake leaned toward Danny. "Knew it. Knew this was a test. Called it. I called nothing. But if I had, I'd have called this."
Yalicon continued, voice clear enough that even the closest rows could hear.
"We have been watching," she said. "Evaluating not just strength, but potential. Adaptability. Instinct. Capacity for growth." She folded her hands behind her back. "Six candidates have exceeded expectations."
She turned slightly.
"Danny."
He straightened automatically.
"Swift."
Swift blinked, then stepped forward to stand beside him.
"Jake."
Jake tripped over a rock and caught himself, then puffed out his chest and moved next to his brothers.
"Shadeclaw."
The shadowwolf inclined his head and strode forward, posture low but presence sharp.
"Jade Killington."
Jade jerked, then swaggered up with a grin, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shredded hoodie.
"Mira."
Mira hesitated—then, to her own surprise, stepped forward confidently, standing a little behind Shadeclaw's shoulder.
Commander Harridan's gaze passed over them like a scanner. "You six will report for cadet duty."
Jake's jaw dropped. "We're—what?"
"Cadets," Swift repeated. "Officially?"
Danny's heart hammered.
"Training?" he said. "Under Buddies?"
"Bureau of Universal Dignitaries of Discovered Intergalactic Empire States," Julian chimed from the booth, as if anyone needed the acronym unpacked again. "The nicest bureaucracy hiding the biggest armies."
Admiral Yalicon nodded. "The Golden Dragon, the Silver Dragon, and the Bronze Dragon have already been flagged as potential top-tier Buddies classifications: Golden, Silver, and Bronze. Shadeclaw carries royal wolf combat data and stealth potential. Jade's unconventional chi-application is… dangerous but promising. Mira has a survivability profile we find interesting."
Mira blinked. "Interesting… good?"
"We will see," Commander Harridan said bluntly.
The Wolf King stepped forward until he was beside Shadeclaw.
"I have no objections," he said. "My wolves have always had ties to your Bureau."
He looked at Shadeclaw. "Return stronger. Or don't return at all."
Shadeclaw's grin sharpened. "I will make you proud or deeply concerned. Either way, you will not be bored."
The Wolf Queen snorted softly, amused.
Admiral Yalicon tapped her slate again. "The Arrow Head await us dockside. Gather what you can carry in two minutes. The rest will be provided."
"Wait, now?" Jake squeaked. "Like, immediately now?"
"Would you prefer later?" Harridan asked, unimpressed.
Jake thought about it. "No, ma'am."
"Then now," she said.
Two minutes later, they weren't fully ready—no one ever really was—but they were moving.
Danny stood at the lip of a sky-dock platform, staring at the vessel hovering there.
It was shaped like an arrowhead. A sleek, marriage of matte black plating and gleaming silver lines that pulsed with energy. The hull angled sharply toward a deadly point, with layered fins and stabilizers fanning out along the rear. Plasma cannons—eighteen of them, if Swift's half-whispered, half-giddy count was right—lined the flanks, concealed behind segmented plates that hummed with restrained threat.
"Arrow Head," Swift breathed, eyes alight. "Class-3 multi-role assault carrier… She can hold five hundred standard infantry, two fifty support staff, combat robotics, med bays… eighteen forward plasma cannons, side arrays… she's beautiful."
Jade whistled low. "Gotta say, I've seen some gangs with nice rides, but this… this is something else."
Mira's eyes were wide as saucers. "It looks like it could stab a planet."
Jake bounced on his heels. "Think they'll let us drive?"
"No," Harridan said behind them, without looking up from her pad.
They boarded through a ramp that yawned open along the Arrow Head's midsection. Inside, the corridors were a mix of functional military design and subtle comfort: clean lines, embedded lighting that adjusted brightness as they walked, walls that hummed with unseen engines.
Support staff in crisp uniforms moved past in organized flows, some giving the new cadets quick glances, gauging them, silently forming opinions.
A few recognized Danny.
More than a few recognized Shadeclaw.
One medic nudged another and whispered, "Is that the dragon kid?"
The other whispered back, "If he sneezes wrong, we're going to have to reinforce the infirmary."
The Arrow Head detached from the dock with a gentle lurch that still made Jake grab the nearest wall handle in panic.
They rose through the atmosphere and into the star-flecked darkness of space. The planet dropped away behind them like a fading memory.
In the forward observation bay, Danny pressed his hand to the transparent hull, watching soft clouds turn to thin wisps and then nothing at all as the ship punched through the upper atmosphere.
He'd flown as a dragon.
He'd soared through the sky on wings of living gold.
But this…
This was different.
This was going further.
Swift stepped up beside him, hands clasped behind his back. Shadeclaw leaned casually against a bulkhead, eyes half-lidded but attentive. Mira stood a little back, arms folded, watching the stars. Jade sprawled in a chair like he owned it. Jake had his forehead squished against the window, leaving smudges.
Ahead of them, space rippled.
A vast shadow emerged.
The G.A.M.B.I.T. was impossible to miss.
It wasn't just big. It was monumental.
The Galactic Armored Multidimensional Buddies Interstellar Transport stretched across the void like an armored continent adrift between stars. Its hull gleamed in layered gunmetal and dark blue, covered in docking bays, protruding towers, shimmering shield grids, and rings of luminous energy.
Smaller ships zipped around it like fish around a leviathan.
Danny's breath hitched.
"That's…" He trailed off, unable to put the scale into words.
"Home," Yalicon said, stepping up beside him. "For a while."
The Arrow Head vectored smoothly into a docking lane marked by glowing pylons and navigational beacons. As they drew closer, more details emerged.
Dozens of hangar mouths gaped along the G.A.M.B.I.T.'s sides, some busy with departures and arrivals, some quietly sealed.
In one massive bay, rows upon rows of sleek craft rested in wattled light.
"Switchblades," Swift whispered, reverence heavy on his tongue.
They looked like stingrays built by a war god. Sleek, curved bodies with reversed wing configurations, tails that tapered into sharp, swept-back fins. Their surfaces were a matte grey-black with faint, angular patterns etched along the hulls—stealth coatings and energy-baffling structures. The tail wings were folded right now, but Swift's eyes tracked the hinges.
"Four-person capacity," he muttered, thinking aloud. "Tail wings flip back for boosted speed and dimensional slip. Cloaking fields… modular weapons hardpoints… they're gorgeous."
Jake pressed both hands to the glass. "We're flying one of those. I don't care if they say no. I'll bribe it."
"You cannot bribe a spaceship," Harridan said, passing behind him.
He thought about that. "Can I try?"
"No."
Another hangar, even deeper inside, housed something else.
Rows and rows of towering figures, each fifteen feet tall, stood in ordered ranks. They were humanoid, but barely; their proportions were brutal, all bulk and armored angles. Every one of them bristled with weaponry—cannons built into both arms, racks of missile tubes stacked like iron spines along their shoulders. Their plates shone dull and cold, titanium and composite alloys etched with serials, kill counts, refit logs.
"B.E.A.R.s," Jade said softly, whistling. "Someone's compensating."
Swift read off the specs from memory. "Battle-Enhanced Armored Rangers. Thermal imaging. Rocket assisted mobility. Multi-caliber mini-guns, micro-missiles on shoulders, redundant reactors…" His voice held equal parts awe and nerd joy. "These are the backbone of Buddies infantry."
Shadeclaw's eyes gleamed. "I want to fight one."
"I want to ride one," Jake said.
"I want to not be crushed by one," Mira added.
The Arrow Head slid smoothly into its designated docking channel, mag locks engaging with a heavy thrum that vibrated through the hull. Doors cycled. Air equalized.
A moment later, the ramp lowered.
They stepped onto the deck of the G.A.M.B.I.T.
It felt different.
The air was thicker with purpose. The gravity ever-so-slightly heavier, as if the ship demanded that those aboard carry more. Around them, crew moved in organized chaos—techs, medics, pilots, officers, each going about tasks with choreographed precision. The soundscape was a mix of distant clanking, the murmur of voices, the low hum of reactors and shield matrices.
A status board on the wall flashed:
CREW: 4,766
ARROW HEAD: DOCKED
SWITCHBLADE WINGS: GREEN
B.E.A.R. BATTALIONS: STANDBY
TRAINING GRID: LIVE
Harridan gestured sharply. "Cadets. With me."
They followed.
They passed a transparent-walled chamber where recruits sparred in zero-G, spinning, grappling, clashing with training weapons while an instructor barked orders from outside. Another chamber pulsed with strange fields as techs fine-tuned dimensional shields.
A panel near a sealed door glowed brighter when Danny walked by. A tech did a double-take.
"Creation-thread resonance reading off the charts," she muttered. "We're going to have to recalibrate the sensors…"
Mira breathed in slowly, shoulders squaring, absorbing it all—the scale, the discipline, the stakes.
Shadeclaw looked like a predator who'd just been introduced to an entirely new ecosystem to hunt in.
Jade lounged as much as one could while walking, trying to play it cool and failing each time another ridiculous weapon system rolled by.
Jake trotted along at Danny's side, talking under his breath. "Okay, so step one, don't accidentally melt the ship. Step two, don't crash anything. Step three, don't blow up the training grounds. Step four—"
"Step four," Swift cut in, "don't listen to Jake."
Jake pouted. "Rude."
They reached a sliding door marked: CADET QUARTERS – ORIENTATION BLOCK.
It opened with a sigh.
Inside, the space resembled a high-end dormitory bolted onto a battleship. Rows of doorways branched off into individual rooms with beds, desks, storage, simple but clean amenities. Beyond, a common lounge area featured training sim ports, a small kitchen module, and a wide panoramic window overlooking the stars.
On the far side of the lounge, another set of doors led to the training halls proper. Holographic signage floated near those: COMBAT GRID A, ZERO-G, WEAPONSIM, MEDITATION CHAMBERS.
Harridan turned to face them.
"This will be your home for the immediate future," she said. "Training begins at dawn—not planetary dawn, ship dawn. We have our own schedule. You will adapt."
She swept her gaze from Danny to Mira like a blade.
"You are not Buddies," she said flatly. "You are not heroes. You are not legends. Whatever you were down there—" she tilted her head toward the unseen planet. "—does not matter here. You are cadets. You will be broken down and rebuilt. Survive it, and you may one day call yourselves Buddies."
Her expression didn't soften, but her next words carried a different current.
"You have potential," she said. "Do not waste it."
She turned on her heel and strode out, doors hissing shut behind her.
Silence settled over the cadet block.
For two, three heartbeats, no one spoke.
Then Jake flopped onto the nearest couch. "I'm excited and terrified. Mostly terrified."
Jade wandered toward the kitchen module. "I'm hungry. Where's the button that gives us food?"
Mira walked toward one of the side doors, pausing with her hand on the frame as she stared out the panoramic window.
Shadeclaw drifted to that same window, standing with his arms folded, eyes reflecting distant stars. "Big playground," he said quietly.
Swift set his bag down beside one of the doors and turned to Danny.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
Danny didn't answer immediately.
He walked to the window.
The stars stretched beyond it in endless fields, distant and bright and cold. The planet they'd just left was a small, tranquil sphere behind them now. Somewhere on its surface were craters and scars—and people still cheering, arguing, living.
Here, there was something else.
Responsibility. Power. Purpose.
Danny rested his hand against the transparent pane.
Golden light flickered under his skin, faint but steady.
"I'm thinking," he said slowly, "that… for the first time, I know I can do something big. Not just break things by accident."
Jake sat up, the joking tone gone for a moment. "We're with you," he said.
Swift nodded. "Wherever this training takes us."
Shadeclaw smirked. "Until something more interesting to hunt appears."
Jade grinned. "Til then, let's see how many of those BEAR things we can outrun."
Mira stepped closer, looking from the stars to their reflections. "I don't want to be left behind this time," she said, almost too quiet to hear.
Danny looked at each of them, one by one—dragon brothers, shadowwolf, street fighter, assassin-in-progress.
A little, honest smile tugged at his mouth.
"We climb together," he said. "And if we fall, we get up together. Deal?"
"Deal," Jake said immediately.
"Agreed," Swift said.
Shadeclaw nodded once.
Jade shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. Why not."
Mira's lips curved into a faint, determined smile. "Deal."
Outside, a Switchblade squadron peeled away from one of the hangars, engines flaring as they slipped into the dark, wings folding back like blades.
Deep in another bay, a row of B.E.A.R.s hummed to life briefly as a diagnostic ran through their systems, eyes flashing with cold readiness.
Somewhere in the depths of the ship, a bell tone chimed.
Ship dawn, not planetary.
The beginning of a new day.
The beginning of training.
The beginning of something larger than any of them.
Danny watched the stars a moment longer, feeling the weight of what was coming—and for once, it didn't scare him more than it thrilled him.
He exhaled.
"This is only the beginning," he whispered.
The lights in the cadet block brightened in response, reacting to an unregistered spike of creation energy, and a small error icon flickered on a maintenance console out in the hall.
Some poor tech on the night shift sighed. "We're going to need stronger power conduits in this section…"
Inside, unaware of the paperwork he'd just created, Danny turned away from the window, shoulders squaring, golden threads in his eyes steady and sure.
It was time to learn how to be what he'd always been.
Not just a dragon.
A Buddy.
And this time, he wouldn't be climbing alone.