The air shifted before anyone spoke.
Heads tilted up as shadows moved across the ruined field.
Five figures hung in the sky, framed by the torn clouds. They weren't just there—they carried that weight, that pull in the gut that told everyone watching the fight was about to change.
Front and center, a young man stood in midair with a baby dragon coiled lazily over his shoulder, its silver scales glinting faintly in the dull light. His hair moved with the wind, eyes locked on the scene below.
Lucian.
His gaze dropped to Karl, then to the broken figure on the ground—his sister. For a moment, there was nothing in his face. No twitch, no breath, no sign of thought. Just… a stillness that didn't belong to someone human.
And then he saw it.
From the edge of the field, through the hanging dust, a monster lunged at Lucy. Not one of the rabble—they'd been cleared out. This thing was fast, jagged, a blur of teeth and spikes. It cut across the space in a blink, aiming for her neck.
