The dream began in silence.
Draco stood in a space so vast it felt infinite. There were no walls, no ceiling—only a sweeping expanse of emptiness broken by rivers of radiant orbs.
Balls of light drifted lazily through the void, glowing like fireflies spun from stars. Their movement pulsed with rhythm, as though the air itself was breathing.
And in the middle of it all lay the Dragon.
It was colossal—a true colossus!
Its sheer size defied comprehension: over a hundred times larger than Draco, a mountain of pale majesty sprawled across the floorless expanse. Its scales shimmered pure white, yet every edge gleamed with a golden luster, as though sunlight itself clung to its body.
Its five horns, arching proudly from its crown, glowed faintly at the tips.
The light traveled down the length of each horn, throbbing like the heartbeat of something divine. Two massive wings, furled and folded, rested against its back. Its tail curled behind it like a fallen tower, still and silent.
