Time passed slowly.

Not because the world had stopped—the wind still blew, the clouds still slowly crossed the sky, the light shifted—but because, there in that crater, everything seemed suspended in a strange state between alertness and waiting.

Six hours.

Six whole hours since the impact.

And Ouroboros hadn’t moved even once.

Her colossal body remained stretched out in the center of the crater, the black scales absorbing the light instead of reflecting it, as if they still carried remnants of that distorted energy that had exploded during the fall. Her breathing was slow, heavy, but steady—the only clear sign that she was still there... for real.

Strax sat near one of the crater’s edges, back in his human form, his elbows resting on his knees while his eyes remained fixed on her. He didn’t seem physically tired—not in the usual way—but there was something deeper there, a silent tension that wouldn’t disappear.

Scarlett was a few meters behind, leaning against a larger rock that had been thrown during the impact, her arms crossed, her gaze distant, but always returning to the motionless body of the black dragon.

Tiamat, on the other hand, walked slowly around the crater, as if trying to find something—a sign, an answer, anything that would explain what had happened.

The silence between them lasted a few more minutes.

Until Tiamat stopped.

She looked directly at Strax.

"I spoke before we left," she said, her voice firm but not aggressive, like someone merely reaffirming something that was already clear. "I said there was something wrong with her."

Strax didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes didn’t leave Ouroboros.

But he nodded slowly.

"I know," he murmured, his voice low, heavier than usual. He ran a hand through his hair for a moment, exhaling through his nose as if reorganizing his own thoughts. "And that wasn’t all."

Tiamat narrowed her eyes slightly.

Strax continued.

"Her behavior had been changing for some time," he said, finally raising his gaze, now looking directly at the two of them. "For a while now."

Scarlett didn’t move.

But she was listening.

"She’s always been... intense," Strax continued, choosing his words more carefully than usual. "Especially with me."

Tiamat made a small nasal sound, almost a silent agreement.

"Possessive," she added bluntly.

Strax nodded.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Extremely."

There was a brief pause.

And then he continued.

"But that... has diminished," he said, frowning slightly. "Not naturally. Not like someone who simply calms down."

He looked away for a moment, as if reviewing past interactions.

"It was... too fast," she finished. "Almost as if someone had switched something off inside her."

Silence returned for a few seconds.

The wind swept through the crater, raising small particles of dust that soon dissipated.

Scarlett finally moved.

She slowly uncrossed her arms and took a few steps forward, moving a little closer to the edge, her eyes fixed on Ouroboros with a deeper attention now.

"I don’t think this was interference," she said, her voice calm, but laden with a different conviction—not absolute, but constructed.

Strax looked at her.

Tiamat did too.

Scarlett continued.

"It doesn’t seem like external control," she explained, tilting her head slightly, analyzing the scene once more. "Neither possession nor direct invasion."

She paused briefly.

"If it were something like that... there would be different resistance," she added. "More... visible conflict."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"This..." she looked at Ouroboros again, "seems to come from her."

The silence that followed was heavier.

Strax frowned.

"Explain," he said.

Scarlett took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts before speaking.

"Perhaps it’s not something inside her," she began slowly. "But something... in her very being."

Tiamat tilted her head slightly.

"Difference?" she asked.

Scarlett answered without hesitation.

"External interference imposes something," she said. "This didn’t."

She crossed her arms again, but this time more out of habit than defense.

"This... seems to have emerged," she continued. "As if something that already existed within her had... gotten out of control."

Strax was silent.

That made sense.

And at the same time... it didn’t help.

"Do you think it was always there?" he asked, his voice lower now.

Scarlett didn’t answer immediately.

She looked at Ouroboros for a few more seconds.

"I don’t know," she admitted. "But whatever it is... it didn’t start today."

Tiamat let out a light sigh, running a hand through her hair as she glanced at the horizon for a moment.

"Great," she murmured. "So we have an old problem... that decided to explode now."

There was a slight trace of irony in her voice.

But also concern.

Real concern.

Strax looked back at Ouroboros.

His eyes analyzed every detail.

Every small variation in her breathing.

Every sign.

But there was nothing beyond the basics.

"She’s never lost control like this," he said, more to himself than to them. "Not even close."

Tiamat looked back at him.

"And you’ve seen her in worse situations," she commented.

"Yes," he replied immediately.

Without hesitation. And that only made everything worse.

Another silence settled in.

Longer this time.

Heavier.

Scarlett broke it again.

"She asked for help," she said suddenly.

Strax looked up quickly.

"What?"

"Up there," Scarlett continued, without taking her eyes off Ouroboros. "For a second... she came back."

Tiamat nodded slightly.

"I saw it too," she said.

Strax was silent.

Processing.

"So she’s trapped," he concluded, his voice firmer now. "Not absent."

Scarlett nodded.

"Yes," she confirmed. "And that’s worse."

Tiamat crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg.

"Because it means she’s feeling everything," she added.

Another silence.

This time... denser.

Strax closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again.

"We don’t know what this is," he said finally, his voice more controlled now. "Nor where it came from."

He stood up slowly, his gaze still fixed on Ouroboros.

"But we know it’s not normal," he continued. "And we know she didn’t do it by choice."

Scarlett and Tiamat didn’t disagree.

Because there was nothing to disagree about.

Strax took a few steps forward, descending partially along the edge of the crater, getting a little closer to her body.

He stopped a few meters away.

Observing.

"And until we have answers..." he murmured, more quietly.

He didn’t finish the sentence immediately.

But he didn’t need to.

Because they both knew.

His gaze said the rest.

That—

It wasn’t over yet.

...

The rain began lightly.

First, like a distant whisper, almost imperceptible, fine droplets traversing the air still heavy with dust until they touched the broken crater floor, slowly softening the marks of the fall. As the minutes passed, the sound became more constant, a calm rhythm that contrasted almost cruelly with the violence that had occurred hours before.

The sky was gray now.

Heavy.

And silent.

Six hours had passed.

And, for the first time since then—

There was movement.

Ouroboros breathed deeper.

The air entered with difficulty, as if her own body had forgotten for a moment how to function properly, and when her eyes finally opened, the world didn’t come all at once—it came in fragments.

Sensation first.

Pain.

Unlocalized.

Total.

Every part of her body seemed to carry the weight of the impact, the blows, the energy that had torn her very being from within. It wasn’t just physical pain—it was profound exhaustion, something that seemed to reach even what shouldn’t be touched.

Then came the sound.

The rain.

Constant.

Calm.

And then... heat.

A strange heat.

Protected.

Her eyes moved slowly.

Heavy.

Confused.

And then she saw.

White.

Immense.

Immobile.

Strax’s wings were spread around her, curved protectively, creating a natural barrier against the rain, against the wind, against anything that could reach her in that state.

He was in his dragon form.

Colossal.

Silent.

And completely still.

Like a living wall.

Or... more than that.

Like something instinctive.

Primordial.

Protecting.

Ouroboros blinked slowly, trying to focus better, trying to understand what he was seeing, but the answer came even before the thought was fully formed.

He... stayed.

The whole time.

The rain trickled down his white scales, accumulating in the curves of his wings before falling in small streams along the edges, but not a single drop touched her body directly.

Not one.

She was completely covered.

Protected.

Her chest rose with difficulty.

Another breath.

Heavier.

And then—

Without him even realizing it—

She spoke.

"...sorry."

The voice came out low.

Hoarse.

Broken.

Barely above a whisper, but carrying a weight far greater than the sound itself.

There was no justification. There was no explanation.

No attempt to hide it.

Just... regret.

Raw.

Direct.

Her eyes remained fixed on him, even though he hadn’t moved yet, even though he hadn’t reacted yet.

"I..." her voice faltered for a second, her body trembling slightly, not from cold, but from exertion.

"...I couldn’t stop."

Another pause.

The rain continued.

Constant.

Slowly washing away the dust, the dried blood, the remnants of what had happened.

"I tried..." she continued, her eyes narrowing for a moment, as if remembering it was worse than the physical pain she felt now.

"...but it wasn’t... me."

Silence.

Heavy.

Dense.

The words hung there, suspended in the air between them.

And then—

A change.

Subtle.

But immediate.

The wings moved.

Slowly.

Enough for the gray light of the sky to filter a little further into the space where she lay. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Strax had heard.

Of course he had.

His head moved slowly, tilting downwards, until his eyes—huge, golden, attentive—met hers.

For a second—

He said nothing.

He just looked.

Analyzing.

Confirming.

Present.

And alive.

Ouroboros held his gaze.

Without looking away.

Even weak.

Even broken.

Because this time—

She was there.

For real.

"...you’re back," he finally said, his voice deep, low, vibrating more in the air than sounding like ordinary words.

It wasn’t exactly a question.

But it wasn’t just a statement either.

It was... confirmation.

She nodded.

Slowly.

With difficulty.

"Yes..." she murmured.

Another pause.

Heavier this time.

"...I think."