After Aurora healed the worst of his injuries, Null found enough strength to ask something that had been bothering him.
"Do I have a father?"
Aurora paused, her golden eyes studying him. "No."
"Then how was I born?"
She sat back on the crystal grass, seeming to consider how to explain. "You were crafted, not born in the traditional sense. I took a part of my essence—my very being—and shaped it, built it into an egg. You are of me, but you are also something unique."
"So I'm… what, a clone?"
"No. You are my son, just not in the way humans or even most dragons reproduce. It's an ancient method, one rarely used because it requires sacrificing a portion of one's own power permanently." She stood, brushing off her training clothes. "It's why your element puzzles me. You should have inherited mine, but instead…"
She trailed off, looking at his star-field scales.
"Go to your room and meditate," she instructed. "The ether is denser there—it will help you understand your power better. Focus on your core, let it speak to you."
Null nodded and began the long flight back to the castle.
The castle felt different when he was alone in it. Empty. His claws clicked against marble floors, echoing through vacant corridors. He passed the library, its massive doors carved with scenes of dragon history. The throne room's doors were slightly ajar, and he could hear the elders on the other side, their deep voices discussing patrol routes.
He continued walking.
The dining hall made him stop. The table was enormous—at least thirty feet long, carved from a single piece of obsidian—chairs lined both sides, each one large enough for an adult dragon.
"I won't be eating there," he muttered. Too big, too formal, too empty.
Further down, he found the ballroom. The doors were open, and from within came the sound of piano music—a melody that seemed both sad and beautiful, notes floating through the air like memories. He peered inside but saw no one at the piano. The keys moved on their own, playing for an audience of shadows and dust motes dancing in the light.
The melody followed him as he continued to his room, growing fainter with distance until it was just a whisper.
Once in his room, Null settled into what he hoped was a meditative position. He'd never meditated in his past life—sitting still doing nothing had seemed pointless. But now, with ether flowing through him, he could feel there was something to reach for.
He closed his eyes and focused inward.
His core pulsed in his chest, that strange space-between-stars feeling. He let his consciousness sink into it, following the ether as it flowed through his body. Deeper and deeper, past the surface energy, past the raw power, into something more fundamental.
An hour passed.
Then, something awakened.
Knowledge flooded his mind—not learned but known, like remembering something always there. He understood instantly what it was and what it could do.
[Primordial Creation]
His unique skill. The power that came with being a Primordial Dragon.
He could create any skill he could imagine. Anything. The concept was staggering. Want to master swords? Create a sword mastery skill. Want to breathe underwater? Create that too. The only limitation was time—the stronger the skill, the longer he'd wait before creating another one.
Null's eyes snapped open, his heart racing.
"Holy shit," he whispered to the empty room.
He had to test it. Focusing on the power, he thought of something simple first—a skill to master swordplay, to understand every technique, every stance, every possible combination.
[Analyzing Skill: Sword Saint]
[Estimated Wait Time: 100 Years]
"A hundred YEARS?" He canceled that immediately. "Maybe next time."
He tried something simpler—a skill to fly better.
[Analyzing Skill: Enhanced Flight]
[Estimated Wait Time: 1 Hour]
That was more reasonable, but also useless. He'd learn to fly naturally with practice.
What about something for survival? A skill to see in the dark?
[Analyzing Skill: Night Vision]
[Estimated Wait Time: 3 Days]
Better, but still not quite right. He needed to think strategically. What would give him the biggest advantage?
Null paced his room, his tail swishing as he thought. He was a baby dragon in a world of ancient monsters. The Order was creating abominations. He needed to get strong, fast, but in a way that wouldn't be obvious.
Then it hit him.
What if he could create skills to enhance his growth rather than give him immediate power? Skills that would compound over time?
He sat back down and focused, thinking carefully about each possibility.
[Analyzing Skill: Ether Breathing]
Description: Passively absorb ether while breathing, even during sleep. Ether reserves will continuously expand.
[Estimated Wait Time: 3 Months]
By the time he was ten years old, his ether reserves would be massive. Three months wasn't bad for something that valuable.
[Analyzing Skill: Ether Prodigy]
Description: Perfect ether control. No wasted energy in any technique. All ether-based abilities operate at maximum efficiency.
[Estimated Wait Time: 7 Months]
This would make him technically perfect. Every bit of power would be used optimally. No waste meant he could fight longer, hit harder, fly further than any dragon his age.
[Analyzing Skill: Genius Mind]
Description: Enhanced learning speed and comprehension. Master any subject, technique, or skill far faster than normal.
[Estimated Wait Time: 1 Year]
This one made him pause. A year was a long time to wait, but the applications were endless. Combat techniques, magic theory, politics, history—everything would come easier.
Null sat back, weighing his options.
Ether Breathing would make him a powerhouse eventually, but it was passive. He'd have to wait for it to build up.
Ether Prodigy would make him dangerous immediately. Perfect control meant he could compete with dragons twice his age.
Genius Mind was the long game. It wouldn't help in a fight tomorrow, but in five years? Ten? He'd be unstoppable.
"I can't take this lightly," he muttered. One wrong choice and he'd be stuck waiting months or years for another chance.
He thought about the Order, about those abominations. About his mother casually atomizing that creature. About the elders, each one is a force of nature. He was starting from so far behind.
But he had something they didn't know about. A secret that could reshape everything.
Whatever he chose would only make him stronger. The question was: what kind of strength did he need most?
Null returned to his meditation position, mulling over the choices. The smart thing would be to think about it for a few days and really consider all angles. But another part of him, the part that had charged armed gunmen in a gas station, wanted to pick now. To start growing immediately.
The cosmic egg he'd hatched from had contained universes. His scales showed stars. His eyes held galaxies. And now he had a power that could create anything he could imagine.
He was Null Azrythos Kaelthuun, Prince of Dragons, secretly a Primordial, in a world where gods had sung reality into existence.
Whatever came next, whatever the Order was planning, whatever mysteries his unknown element held—he'd be ready.
He just had to choose how to begin.
The empty castle around him seemed to hold its breath, waiting. Even the piano music from the ballroom had stopped, leaving only silence and possibility.
Three options. Three paths to power.
Null closed his eyes and focused on his core, on that space-between-stars feeling. The decision would come to him. It had to.
For now, he meditated, a baby dragon with the power to reshape himself, sitting alone in a cosmic-themed room while the world outside prepared for wars he was only beginning to understand.