Several days had passed since the fall of Docking Spire Seven, and in that span the war had neither paused nor shown mercy.

  The squadron flew their patrols as ordered, sweeping through the debris field in patterns that shifted daily to deny the Nemesis any predictable rhythm to exploit. Each sortie brought contact, brief and sharp, testing both sides without commitment to full battle.

  The enemy was learning. So were they.

  Seralyth guided Saeryn through a dense cluster of asteroids, her attention split between the tactical overlay and the physical space around them. Somewhere ahead, perhaps three kilometres distant, Theryn and Kaelthor held the far edge of their patrol arc. Kaela and Lyessa ranged to either side, forming a net through which nothing hostile should pass undetected.

  Should. The word carried less certainty than it once had.

  "Contact," Kaela's voice came through the「Transmission」, clipped and precise. "Bearing one-four-seven, range eight hundred metres. Single Splinter, fragmenting pattern."

  "Acknowledged," Seralyth replied. "Veylis, can you anchor it before it scatters?"

  "Already moving."

  Saeryn's awareness sharpened through the bond, the dragon's focus narrowing to a point as keen as any blade's edge. There was eagerness there, yes, but something else beneath it. Something harder to name.

  A want that ran deeper than simple battle-readiness.

  The Splinter came into view, a grey mass twisting through the debris with the unnatural fluidity that marked all Nemesis constructs. Before it could fragment, space around it seemed to fold inward, Veylis's distortion taking hold and pinning the construct against a nearby asteroid.

  "Target anchored," Kaela transmitted. "Engaging."

  Kaelthor's strike followed half a breath later, a superheated projectile crossing the distance in a bright streak. The impact was clean, precise, punching through the Splinter's core before it could break itself apart.

  The construct shuddered once and went still, its grey form darkening as whatever force animated it fled.

  "Confirmed kill," Theryn said. "No fragments."

  "Well executed," Seralyth said. "Resume patrol pattern."

  It should have been routine. A single enemy eliminated with textbook coordination, exactly as they'd been drilled to do.

  Yet as Saeryn banked away from the engagement, something pulsed through the bond that gave Seralyth pause.

  The dragon had wanted to be the one to strike. Not merely wanted, but craved it with an intensity that seemed disproportionate to the threat. Saeryn's furnaces were running hotter than the brief encounter warranted, heat bleeding through their connection in waves that made Seralyth's implants register warnings she had to consciously dismiss.

  'Easy,' she sent, willing calm into the connection. 'The kill is made. Stand down.'

  Saeryn's presence pulled back, yielding to her command as it always did. But the yearning didn't fade. It simply banked itself, like coals that cooled on the surface whilst remaining fierce beneath.

  The patrol continued for another two hours without further contact. By the time they returned to Theralis Station, the sun had shifted position enough to throw long shadows across the docking platforms, painting the asteroid's surface in sharp contrasts of light and dark.

  Saeryn settled into their assigned berth, the dragon's systems interfacing with the station's support web. The furnaces finally eased, heat dispersing, tension loosening.

  Seralyth emerged from the chamber and stepped onto the platform, drawing station air into her lungs whilst her eyes adjusted to the brighter illumination.

  The other three hatchlings were already secured. Kaela stood near Veylis, running her usual post-flight diagnostics. Lyessa was speaking with Theryn, their voices low, though Lyessa's gestures suggested she was recounting some moment from the patrol with her characteristic energy returning.

  Seralyth moved toward her own checklist, the routine tasks that followed every sortie. Visual inspection of Saeryn's exterior. System status review. Fuel consumption analysis.

  It was during the visual inspection that she noticed it.

  Saeryn had grown.

  Not metaphorically. Not in some abstract sense of capability or maturity. The dragon's physical body had increased in size measurably since the battle four days prior.

  Seralyth stood very still, her gaze moving along Saeryn's length with deliberate care. The docking berth had markers, reference points calibrated for hatchling-sized dragons. She'd used them a dozen times before, knew exactly where Saeryn's wingtips should rest, where the tail should curl.

  The proportions were wrong.

  Saeryn's wings now extended perhaps half a metre past where they'd been. The body had thickened, musculature more defined beneath scales that seemed to have taken on a deeper lustre. The neck, always graceful, had grown both longer and more powerful, lending the dragon a presence that edged toward what an adult might carry.

  Four days.

  In four days, Saeryn had gained growth that should have required months.

  Something cold settled in Seralyth's chest, not quite alarm, not quite fear. Recognition, perhaps. The confirmation of suspicions she'd been carrying since the battle at Aeltheryl but had been too occupied to properly examine.

  She pulled up her personal datapad and called up the measurement logs from their last docking. Numbers appeared, precise and undeniable. Wing span. Body length. Mass estimates based on berth strain sensors.

  Every metric had increased. Some by ten per cent. Others by fifteen.

  In four days.

  "Your Highness."

  Seralyth turned to find Vrael approaching, the garrison commander's expression carefully neutral in that way that suggested she'd already noticed what Seralyth was looking at.

  "Commander," Seralyth replied.

  Vrael stopped a few paces away, her gaze moving from Seralyth to Saeryn and back again. "I need you to tell me I'm seeing things."

  "You're not."

  "Four days ago, your dragon was noticeably smaller than Veylis. Now they're nearly matched." Vrael's voice was quiet, but there was steel underneath. "That's not normal hatchling development."

  "No," Seralyth agreed. "It's not."

  Vrael was silent for a moment, clearly weighing her next words with care. "Has this been ongoing? Since before Theralis?"

  "Since Aeltheryl," Seralyth said. "Professor Rynna documented accelerated growth after the battle. The pattern has continued."

  "Accelerated is an understatement." Vrael gestured towards Saeryn. "At this rate, your dragon will reach adult size in what, weeks? A month?"

  "I don't know."

  "Does anyone?"

  "Rynna is studying it. She doesn't have answers yet."

  Vrael's jaw tightened fractionally. "And you're still flying combat sorties."

  It wasn't quite a question, but Seralyth answered anyway. "The war doesn't pause for research."

  "No," Vrael said. "But if your dragon's biology is unstable, if this growth is causing internal strain we can't detect, and Saeryn fails mid-engagement..." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.

  Seralyth met her gaze steadily. "Saeryn's performance has been optimal. Better than optimal. The growth appears to be enhancing capability, not compromising it."

  "Appears," Vrael repeated, catching the word like a hook. "You don't know for certain."

  "No."

  Vrael exhaled slowly through her nose, her expression suggesting she was making calculations Seralyth couldn't see. "I'm going to need detailed scan data. Full biometric workup. And I'm going to need to report this up the chain."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "I understand."

  "Do you?" Vrael's voice dropped lower. "Because once the Imperium knows you have a hatchling growing at an unprecedented rate, demonstrating capabilities beyond its age class, they're going to be very interested. And that interest might not align with your preferences."

  Seralyth said nothing. There was nothing to say that would change what was coming.

  Vrael seemed to read that in her silence. "Get the scans done tonight. I'll transmit them to Caeloryn in the morning. Professor Rynna will want to see this."

  She turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing. If Saeryn shows any sign of instability during patrol, any sign at all, you pull back immediately. I don't care what's happening tactically. You pull back. Understood?"

  "Understood."

  Vrael walked away, leaving Seralyth standing beside her dragon in the cooling shadows of the docking bay.

  Saeryn's presence stirred in the bond, questioning. The dragon had sensed the conversation's tone if not its content, recognised concern in voices even without comprehending the words.

  'It's all right,' Seralyth sent, though she wasn't certain that was true.

  Saeryn's response came as a wash of sensation, warm and immediate and utterly unconcerned. The dragon didn't understand why growth should be troubling. It felt strong, capable, ready. The changes were natural to it, as natural as breathing.

  The biological imperative woven into every dragon by the First Bond pulsed through their connection, stronger than Seralyth had ever felt it before. Fight. Protect. Endure. An ancient purpose carved into living flesh, driving Saeryn forwards whether the dragon understood it or not.

  Seralyth laid her hand against Saeryn's scales and felt heat radiating from within, hotter than it had been weeks ago, hotter than any hatchling should run.

  Something was changing. Something fundamental.

  And no one, not Rynna, not Vrael, not the entire Imperium, knew where it would end.

  ???

  The scanning chamber at Theralis Station was smaller than the ones at Caeloryn, a cramped space barely large enough to accommodate a hatchling-sized dragon with medical equipment arrayed around it in a tight circle.

  Seralyth stood outside the transparent barrier whilst technicians moved through their procedures with practised efficiency, directing Saeryn through a series of positions that allowed the sensors to capture data from every angle.

  The dragon cooperated without complaint, though restlessness thrummed through the bond. Saeryn didn't understand the purpose of this. There was no enemy to fight, no threat to answer. Just stillness and waiting whilst strange devices hummed and clicked around her.

  'Nearly done,' Seralyth sent, hoping it was true.

  One of the technicians, a middle-aged woman with grey streaking her dark hair, looked up from her console and caught Seralyth's eye through the barrier. Her expression was carefully professional, but something in it suggested she'd seen the preliminary results and found them troubling.

  "We're getting clean reads across all systems," the technician said, her voice carrying through the chamber's comm. "Furnace output is... significantly elevated for a hatchling this age. Musculature density is approaching adult parameters. Skeletal structure shows accelerated ossification."

  She paused, then added more quietly, "I've never seen growth metrics like this."

  "How long until the full analysis is ready?" Seralyth asked.

  "Another hour for complete processing. We'll transmit everything to Caeloryn as soon as it's compiled." The technician's gaze moved back to her displays. "Professor Rynna flagged your dragon's file as priority. She'll have the data before morning."

  Seralyth nodded once, then turned her attention back to Saeryn.

  Through the transparent barrier she could see the dragon's chest rising and falling with steady breaths, furnaces glowing faintly beneath translucent scales. Even at rest, Saeryn radiated heat that made the air shimmer around her.

  The measurements would confirm what Seralyth already knew. Saeryn was growing faster than any dragon in recorded history. The question wasn't whether it was happening. The question was why, and what it meant.

  And whether it would stop.

  An hour later, Seralyth sat in a small communications room whilst Rynna's face filled the display screen, the researcher's usual brightness entirely absent.

  "Okay," Rynna said without preamble. "I'm looking at the data, and I need you to tell me if there's been any change in Saeryn's behaviour. Aggression, lethargy, disorientation, anything."

  "No," Seralyth replied. "Performance has been optimal. If anything, Saeryn's more capable than before."

  "That's what worries me." Rynna pulled up something off-screen, her eyes scanning rapidly. "The growth rate has accelerated since the engagement four days ago. Not slowed down. Accelerated. Saeryn's gained more mass in the past week than in the entire month before it."

  She looked back at the screen, and there was genuine alarm in her face now. "At this rate, Saeryn will reach adult size in three weeks. Maybe less."

  Three weeks.

  The number landed but Seralyth didn't let it show on her face. "Is that dangerous?"

  "I don't know," Rynna said, and the admission clearly cost her. "There's no precedent. Dragons grow over years, not weeks. Their bodies need time to adapt, systems need to integrate gradually. Saeryn's biology is doing in days what should take months, and I can't tell you if the internal structures can handle that strain."

  She gestured at her off-screen displays. "The furnace output alone is concerning. Saeryn's running at temperatures that would stress an adult dragon. For a hatchling, it should be impossible. But somehow Saeryn's managing it without apparent damage."

  "So the growth is sustainable," Seralyth said.

  "I didn't say that." Rynna's voice sharpened. "I said there's no apparent damage yet. That doesn't mean there won't be. We're in completely unknown territory here."

  Silence stretched between them for a moment, filled only by the faint hum of the transmission equipment.

  "The Imperium is going to want Saeryn pulled from active duty," Rynna said finally. "They'll want comprehensive studies, controlled conditions, constant monitoring. You know that, right?"

  "I know."

  "And you're not going to agree to it."

  It wasn't a question. Seralyth met Rynna's gaze through the screen without flinching. "The war won't pause whilst we study what's happening. Theralis needs every combat-capable dragon it has. Saeryn is combat-capable."

  "Seralyth—"

  "You said yourself there's no apparent damage. Saeryn's performance is improving, not degrading. Pulling her from duty based on theoretical risks serves no one."

  Rynna's expression suggested she wanted to argue, but after a moment she just shook her head. "You're not wrong. I hate that you're not wrong, but you're not wrong."

  She leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her already-dishevelled hair. "Fine. Keep flying. But if anything changes, if Saeryn shows even a hint of instability, you ground immediately. And I mean immediately. Not after the engagement, not after you get back to station. The moment something feels off."

  "Agreed."

  "I'm serious, Seralyth. I don't care if you're in the middle of saving the entire station. If Saeryn's biology fails mid-flight, you both die, and I really can't stress enough how much I'd prefer that didn't happen."

  Despite everything, Seralyth felt a faint warmth at the concern beneath Rynna's words. "I'll be careful."

  "You'd better be." Rynna pulled up something else, her professional focus reasserting itself. "I'm going to keep monitoring the data remotely. Send me updates after every patrol. Any changes, no matter how small, I want to know about them."

  "Understood."

  "And Seralyth?" Rynna's voice softened slightly. "Whatever's happening to Saeryn, whatever's driving this growth... it's tied to the First Bond. I'm sure of it now. The biological imperative that Draxion implanted in every dragon, it's not just a behavioural drive. It's written into their very flesh."

  She paused, choosing her next words with visible care. "Saeryn is responding to the war at a cellular level. The dragon's body is adapting to meet a threat that the First programmed into its bloodline three thousand years ago. That's why this is happening. And that's why I don't think it's going to stop until either the war ends or Saeryn reaches whatever biological endpoint the First encoded."

  The implications settled over Seralyth like a weight she couldn't shift. "You're saying Saeryn doesn't have a choice in this."

  "None of the dragons do. They're all carrying the First's legacy. Saeryn's just expressing it more... dramatically." Rynna met her eyes. "Which means you need to be ready for the possibility that this growth won't plateau at adult size. It might keep going."

  "Towards what?"

  "I don't know. Sovereign size, maybe. Or something beyond that entirely." Rynna's expression was grave. "The First Bond was wounded when it arrived here, fleeing from Nemesis. What if the dragons' ability to grow rapidly in response to existential threat was part of their original design? What if Saeryn is doing exactly what the First intended?"

  Seralyth had no answer for that.

  After a moment, Rynna sighed. "Get some rest. And take care of that dragon. I'll contact you if I find anything new in the data."

  The transmission ended, leaving Seralyth alone in the quiet communications room.

  She sat there for a long while, her thoughts turning over everything Rynna had said. Three weeks to adult size. Possibly beyond. A biological imperative so fundamental it was rewriting Saeryn's development in real time.

  And through it all, the war continuing without pause.

  Finally, she rose and made her way back to the docking bay.

  Saeryn was resting in their berth, furnaces banked low, wings folded close. The dragon's eyes opened as Seralyth approached, luminous in the dim lighting.

  Saeryn's presence reached towards her through the bond. Not questioning anymore. Simply there, constant and unwavering, unchanged by scans or measurements or alarmed researchers.

  To Saeryn, nothing was wrong. The dragon felt strong, capable, ready to fight. The changes were as natural as breathing, as inevitable as the rising sun.

  Seralyth laid her hand on Saeryn's scales and felt the heat there, fierce and steady. The biological imperative pulsed like a second heartbeat, ancient and inexorable.

  Fight. Protect. Endure.

  The First had carved those words into living flesh three thousand years ago, and now they were manifesting in ways no one had foreseen.

  Seralyth closed her eyes and reached deeper into the bond, past the surface sensations, down to where Saeryn's essential self resided. There, in that wordless space, she found the dragon's absolute certainty.

  This was right. This was purpose. This was what Saeryn had been made for.

  And who was she to say otherwise?

  The station's alarms cut through the quiet, sharp and urgent.

  Seralyth's eyes snapped open. Saeryn responded instantly, furnaces flaring to full heat, muscles tensing, readiness flooding through every fibre of the dragon's being.

  Another attack. The Nemesis had returned.

  And despite everything, despite the uncertainty and the unanswered questions, despite not knowing where this path would lead, Seralyth felt her own resolve harden.

  They would fly. They would fight.

  Because the war wouldn't wait for understanding, and Saeryn was the weapon the First had forged for exactly this moment.

  Whatever came after, they would face it when it arrived.

  "All units to battle stations," Vrael's voice came through the general comm. "Nemesis forces inbound. Squadron pilots, to your dragons."

  Seralyth was already moving, already climbing back into Saeryn's chamber as the dragon rose from its berth, wings spreading wide.

  The bond sang with readiness, sharp and utterly focused.

  The dragon was ready.

  And so, she realised, was she.