The chamber still trembled, the stone walls humming under the lingering resonance of Bahamut's roar. Shazir's flames sputtered weakly, his beard embers guttering as Mike held him up like a child's doll. None of the other councilors dared to rise; even Jann's thunder dimmed, his stormclouds curling back to his shoulders like leashed beasts.
Bahamut's voice thundered through Mike's throat, low and contemptuous.
"Pathetic halflings. You presume to judge my hatchling? His power is mine to shape. This trial was for his growth nothing more. If any of you dare lay hand or judgment upon him again, I will reduce this hall and every one of you to ash and ruin."
The weight of his presence pressed the council into silence. Even Maymun's golden aura flickered like a candle against the storm, though his expression remained steady.
"Bahamut," Maymun said, calm but firm, his tone holding the authority of ages. He stepped closer, every movement measured. "The council does not forget who you are. Nor do I. But the path forward must be chosen with care. He cannot remain your vessel here, not in this chamber, not yet."
Mike's body trembled, crimson and black markings still writhing across his chest. For the first time, Bahamut turned his gaze from the council and looked down at him, through him.
"You feel it, hatchling," the dragon's voice rumbled inside his mind. "The chains of their judgment cannot bind you. You have claimed essence as your own, and you are mine to protect. No halfbreed or god will decide your fate."
The grip on Shazir loosened. The fire djinn crumpled to the floor, gasping, his pride more wounded than his flesh. Bahamut's presence softened in deliberate restraint. His power receded, leaving behind a heat in Mike's chest that felt less like fire and more like a shield.
Maymun raised a hand, his golden aura sweeping outward like a tide, smoothing the chamber's jagged edges.
"Then it is settled," the king said. His gaze cut across the councilors, silencing any flickers of protest. "He is not prey to be broken, nor a beast to be caged. He walks forward under Bahamut's wing, and under my council's watch. The storm in the East will rise with or without him. Here, he will cut the titans that still walk this land."
Bahamut's essence flared once more, then withdrew, receding from Mike's body. His voice lingered in Mike's mind, a final growl echoing like a mountain's heartbeat:
"You are not alone, hatchling. When they look at you, let them see me standing behind you. No judgment will ever fall upon you while my shadow covers you."
Mike staggered, his knees nearly buckling as the dragon's presence fully released him. Yet instead of hollow weakness, he felt… anchored. Protected. A warmth spread through him, alien but steady the same comfort he had only ever known in his parents' arms, or when Kelsey's hand was in his. Bahamut's protection was not tenderness, but it was a shield, absolute and unshakable.
Maymun's golden eyes lingered on him. "Go. You have someone waiting."
Mike bowed his head in a rare gesture of respect, then turned. The heavy chamber doors closed behind him, muffling the storm of whispers that had begun to rise again among the djinn.
The corridor outside was quieter, lit only by the faint glow of runes. Mike made his way back toward Kelsey's chamber, his steps unsteady but sure. When he entered, she was awake again, her pale face lifting as his shadow crossed the threshold.
He bent to her side, and for a moment, all the weight of gods and titans fell away. Her hand in his steadied everything.
But this time, he didn't speak only of protection. He spoke of resolve. "I'll win, Kelsey," he whispered, forehead pressed to her knuckles. "They will all fall. I swear it. You will never be put in a position to be harmed again. No one will come for you or I'll tear them apart." Glancing over behind Kelsey he could feel a faint nod of agreement from Thanatos.
Her smile was faint but real, her eyes soft as sleep claimed her again.
Mike sat with her until her breathing grew deep and steady. Then, quietly, he rose. He pressed a final kiss to her temple before stepping away.
When he left Maymun's palace this time, it was not as a fractured mortal stumbling beneath chains. He had been tempered by the crucible, marked by both love and fury.
The council chamber remained heavy with silence long after Mike's departure. The echo of Bahamut's roar still clung to the stone, like smoke that refused to disperse. Shazir seethed in humiliation, his flames guttering low as he sat stiff-backed, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Jann's thunder had gone quiet, though his fists clenched against the arms of his throne. Even Marid, who rarely stirred, let the faint tide of his aura lap uneasily against the walls.
Maymun alone stood calm at the center, the golden fire of his essence steady, unshaken. His voice broke the silence with the weight of inevitability.
"You see now," he said, his words deliberate, unhurried. "Bahamut claims the hatchling as his own. No decree from this council will ever bind him. You may argue, you may whisper, you may resent but you will not decide his fate."
Shazir's beard flared. "So we bow, then? To a boy who devours divinity? To that dragons shadow reborn?"
"You bow," Maymun said coldly, "to survival. Abaddon awaits his call. The angels plan the end of days. The titans roam unchecked. We do not have the luxury of quarreling with Bahamut's hatchling."
Binyai's shadow stirred faintly, like ink spilling over stone. "And if the boy loses himself again?"
Maymun's gaze cut to him, sharp as molten glass. "Then Bahamut will handle that situation."
The weight of that truth silenced the chamber. Even Shazir had no reply.
Maymun turned from them all, stepping toward the great doors. "Prepare yourselves. The dragon will leave these halls soon, and when he does, the storms will follow him."
The golden doors closed behind him, leaving the council to stew in their uneasy silence.
Mike stood on the outer steps of Maymun's palace, the desert wind brushing against his face. The weight of the trial, the council, Bahamut's presence, all of it clung to him but he felt slightly liberated from the burdens of his own power. For the first time since consuming Hecate, fighting Woden, and the village slaughter, he felt something steady beneath his feet.
Bahamut's voice rumbled faintly in the back of his mind, quieter now.
"The titans still walk this land, hatchling. Their flesh will test your teeth. Their essence will test your soul. Hunt them all. Break them. Devour and grow."
Mike's lips curled into a grim smile. For once, the whispers weren't driving him toward madness. They were pointing him toward purpose.
He thought of Kelsey, still sleeping within Maymun's walls. He thought of her frail hand gripping his with what strength she had left. His chest tightened, but instead of breaking, it steeled him.
"I'll keep her safe," he whispered, his breath carried off by the desert wind. "Fucking gods and angels. I am coming for you."
The air grew heavier, the horizon dark with storms.