Chapter 1: The Sky I Never Saw
In this universe, there exist countless worlds.
Some flourish under suns of gold, where people walk freely, laugh openly, and dream without restraint. Others are drenched in shadows, where survival is a whisper and tomorrow a gamble. And somewhere, hidden between the folds of existence, there was me.
I had never known a sky.
Strange, isn't it? Most people are born into the world with lungs that taste air, eyes that see blue heavens, and feet that can walk wherever they wish. Me? My whole existence had been confined to four pale walls and the sterile glow of a hospital ceiling.
Machines hummed and beeped, keeping rhythm to the fragile thing I called life. Tubes tethered me like puppet strings. My body was too frail to move much, but my mind wandered. Books, stories, and glowing screens were my windows. Fantasy novels, isekai manga, worlds of heroes and villains, monsters and gods—they carried me further than my legs ever could.
Did I envy them? Perhaps. Did I hate my life? Not really. Even in the cage of my body, I found moments that made existence tolerable. When I laughed at a character's stupidity, when I cheered for a hero's triumph, I almost felt like I was living through them.
But every story, no matter how long, has an ending.
The machine by my side buzzed strangely. A flat, jarring noise cut into the usual beeps. My chest tightened. My breaths grew shallow. Panic clawed up my throat. Without these machines, without the tubes feeding life into me, I was nothing but a husk.
So this is it, huh?
My gaze drifted upward, to the sterile white ceiling I had memorized since birth. There was no sky, no horizon, no final sunset. Just white emptiness.
I wish I had a normal body… I wish I could've seen the sky… even just once.
A warmth left my chest, like a candle snuffed by unseen fingers. The ceiling blurred. The sound of the machines vanished. My lips parted in a final exhale.
Darkness claimed me.
---
But the story didn't end there.
Far, far away—across the vast ocean of existence—was another universe. A place of countless worlds, some small as grains of sand, others vast as stars.
And one stood out.
A world so massive it glowed like a second sun in the void. On this world, kingdoms and empires sprawled, races fought and thrived, magic flowed like rivers. Yet none of that mattered. For in the deepest reaches of an ancient forest—a place mortals feared to tread—something stirred.
Darkness again.
But this darkness was… different. It wasn't the void of death. It was… heavier. Warmer. A shell around me, yet also a cage.
My eyes opened, though I saw nothing. Just endless black. My body shifted, and for the first time, I realized—this wasn't the fragile shell I had before. My limbs were… strange. My back felt weight it had never known. My skin—no, not skin. Something tougher. Scales.
What is this? Where am I?
Hours passed. Then days. I couldn't tell how long, but instinct gnawed at me. Move. Struggle. Break free. My body obeyed before I even thought to command it. My claws—sharp and strong—scraped against the confining walls.
Cracks formed.
Light pierced through, slivers at first, then spilling in as I pushed harder. A fissure split the shell. With one final heave, I broke through.
Shhhhkrr!
I stumbled forward, gasping—not with human lungs, but with something deeper. The forest air hit me, rich and wild. My eyes adjusted, catching glimpses of towering trees, beams of golden sunlight, the whisper of leaves swaying.
And beneath me—shattered fragments of a massive egg.
What the hell…? Was I… inside this?
I looked down at myself. No thin arms. No pale skin. Instead—claws. Sharp, glinting. A snout protruded where my nose should've been. I flexed, and wings—tiny, folded, but undeniably there—shifted against my back.
"I… I'm…" My voice wasn't words. It was a low growl that vibrated the air. Yet in my head, I understood. I'm hungry.
My gaze fell on the broken shell. It glistened faintly, and before I even thought twice, instinct guided me. My jaws snapped down on the shards. Crunch. Warmth spread through me.
Why… why does this taste good?
I ate greedily, the pieces dissolving into raw energy that filled my small, trembling body. And then—suddenly—a light shimmered before me. A projection, hovering in the air like a phantom.
I froze.
A massive creature appeared—white scales like glistening snow, wings that cast shadows across the forest floor. Her eyes, ancient and kind, fixed on me.
"My child," she spoke. Her voice wasn't sound, but it resonated directly within me.
I stopped chewing. My heart—or whatever beat inside this new chest—thundered.
"Wh-who… who are you?"
"It is me, your mother."
My gaze locked on hers. Mother? A dragon. A being as tall as a house, her scales radiating authority. Every instinct screamed reverence.
"I know you are confused," her voice continued, calm yet solemn. "But you must survive. This is your trial. Only those who endure return. Until then… Azhurath, my child… let us meet again."
The image flickered. Then vanished.
Silence. Only the wind and my racing thoughts.
Mother…? A trial? Return?
And then it hit me. The truth. The impossible truth.
"I… I died. Back then. In the hospital." My voice rumbled, low, strange. "But… I reincarnated… as… a dragon?"
Excitement surged through me. Not fear. Not despair. Wonder.
"A… dragon. Azhurath." I rolled the name on my tongue, feeling it resonate deep in my chest. "That's… me. I'm Azhurath now."
The hunger still gnawed at me, but another sensation tugged stronger—curiosity. For the first time, light stretched above me. A sky. Endless, brilliant blue, scattered with drifting clouds.
My eyes widened.
"…Beautiful." My voice trembled. "I've never… I've never seen the real sky before. Not as a human. But now…"
The name, the trial, the strange hologram—they all weighed on me. But for now, one truth mattered most. I was alive. Truly alive.
And I would survive.
---
I wandered. My tiny claws pressed into moss and dirt. The forest loomed endlessly, alive with unseen whispers and distant roars. Then—I heard it. The rush of water.
Drawn like a moth, I padded toward it. My body stumbled, clumsy in its new form, but determination carried me. Through a break in the trees, a waterfall appeared. Crystal water tumbled down rocks, crashing into a clear pool. Mist rose like silver veils.
I shuffled closer, breathless. The water's surface mirrored the world like glass. Curious, I leaned in.
I A dragon stared back. Small, crimson scales gleaming faintly under sunlight. Fledgling wings, barely larger than my back. Amber eyes, wide with awe.
"…So this is me." I whispered. A snout. Horns beginning to grow. Claws sharper than steel.
For a moment, the reflection blurred—not with ripples, but with memory. Behind those eyes, I saw myself as I once was. A frail boy, trapped in a bed. The contrast shook me.
But the boy was gone. In his place—Azhurath.
"…Cool," I muttered, a grin curling across my draconic face. "I'm a red dragon."
The forest hushed. Too hushed.
I froze. No rustling leaves. No bird calls. The water's roar seemed distant, swallowed by silence. Instinct prickled my scales. Slowly, I turned.
And there it was.
A massive tiger—fur black as shadow, fangs like daggers glistening with saliva. Its presence was suffocating, yet it made no sound, no scent, no warning. Only silence.
Its golden eyes locked on me.
My claws dug into the earth. My heart thundered.