Lucian couldn’t move.

His body refused to obey.

Not because of fear—

though it clawed at the edges of his mind.

Not because of exhaustion—

though his legs still trembled from his desperate escape.

But because he was being watched.

Truly watched.

It wasn’t just a feeling.

It was a certainty.

A presence so absolute that it coiled around him like unseen chains, pinning him in place.

It was as if the air itself had turned to glass, trapping him in a moment that refused to pass.

The golden reptilian eyes bore into him, radiant and unwavering.

Not hostile.

Not angry.

But curious.

A creature so impossibly vast that even the Titan Behemoth paled in comparison, now looked at him as if he was something… unexpected.

Its sheer enormity defied reason, a living mountain of scales and raw power.

The dim cavern light barely traced its form, casting shifting shadows across its impossibly massive body.

Each slow breath it took sent ripples through the air, like the very atmosphere bowed to its presence.

As if he was an anomaly.

Lucian’s breath came in slow, uneven gasps.

His entire body locked up, but not from fear—

at least, not in the way he had ever known it.

This was something else. Something deeper.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, to flee like prey before a predator.

But no part of his body responded.

It was like the dragon’s mere presence had rewritten the very concept of movement, like standing in its gaze had turned him from a living being into a mere object—

something to be observed rather than something that could act.

His vision blurred for a moment, his heartbeat hammering loud in his ears.

His lungs felt tight, his breath shallow.

It wasn’t just in his mind.

His body felt… wrong.

His limbs tingled with numbness, his stomach twisted in knots, his thoughts sluggish like they were being dragged through tar.

Every instinct screamed at him to flee, yet he stood there—

helpless, frozen, utterly insignificant.

Even thinking felt sluggish, as if the very air around him was crushing his consciousness beneath its weight.

Then—a terrible thought.

A realization so vast, so incomprehensible, it threatened to crush him more than the weight itself.

It was letting him breathe.

Letting him exist.

His body wasn’t frozen because of its power—

it was because the dragon had chosen to let him remain.

This creature could erase him.

Not kill.

Not destroy.

Just…

unmake him, like wiping ink from parchment.

The realization clawed at his mind, sending another wave of nausea rolling through his gut.

His stomach churned, nausea coiling in his gut like a sickness.

He had never felt this powerless before.

Not when he fought the Abyssal Direwolf, not even when he ran from the Titan Behemoth.

This was something beyond fear.

This was something close to oblivion.

The sheer pressure in the air was suffocating—

not an active force, but an undeniable presence.

Like standing before an ancient god, a being so far beyond him that his very existence felt insignificant.

Then—

A voice.

Deep. Resonant. Absolute.

The kind of voice that didn’t just echo through the cavern—it rippled through the very air itself.

“How strange… a mere insect dares to step into my lair without trembling?”

The very walls of the cave vibrated with its words.

It wasn’t just sound.

It was as if the words themselves carried force, pressing against Lucian’s skin, shaking his bones.

The cave didn’t just vibrate—

the world itself seemed to acknowledge the dragon’s voice, as if nature itself was compelled to listen.

Lucian flinched, his heart lurching in his chest.

It wasn’t just sound.

It was weight.

Power given form.

And it had just acknowledged him.

Lucian’s mind scrambled for logic, for an explanation.

A dragon.

An actual dragon.

But not just any dragon—this thing was leagues beyond the monsters outside.

The Abyssal Direwolf, the Titan Behemoth… none of them had spoken.

None of them had carried this… awareness.

This presence.

The dragon’s massive form remained still, its golden eyes the only movement in the oppressive silence.

Stolen story; please report.

Lucian swallowed hard.

He had to say something.

Had to acknowledge it.

Had to show that he wasn’t frozen in fear.

But before he could even form words, the dragon’s head tilted slightly.

And its gaze narrowed.

Lucian felt it immediately—

It wasn’t just looking at him.

It was seeing through him.

A sharp, unbearable pressure built in his skull, a sensation like fingers digging into the edges of his mind, prying apart his thoughts.

His memories wavered, distorting as if something was peeling them away layer by layer.

He tried to resist—

tried to hold on—

but the force behind the dragon’s gaze was relentless.

Through his body, through his mind, through his very soul.

It wasn’t examining him like a person.

It was studying him like a puzzle.

Something unnatural.

Something that shouldn’t be here.

Lucian’s breath hitched.

And then—

The dragon’s lips curled slightly.

“Fascinating.”

The cavern trembled.

Lucian stood frozen, his body locked in place under the sheer weight of the dragon’s gaze.

Then—

The air shifted.

A pulse of invisible force erupted from the Dragon, washing over Lucian like a tidal wave.

It was beyond magic.

Beyond mana.

Beyond anything that could be categorized.

It was raw existence, an undeniable truth that crushed the air from his lungs.

His body recoiled on instinct, every cell screaming under the weight of something far too vast, too incomprehensible for his mortal mind.

Lucian’s knees nearly buckled.

His lungs seized, his vision blurred, his very soul trembled beneath the weight of something far, far greater than him.

It was as if his existence itself was being questioned.

Like he was being unmade just by standing in front of this being.

It wasn’t just his body—it was his existence.

His name wavered. His thoughts blurred.

Who was he?

What was he?

The world twisted, his memories distorting—

—And for one horrifying moment, he wasn’t sure he had ever been real.

Then—

Lucian collapsed.

Was this what it felt like to cease existing?

His mind flickered with gaps—memories shuddering, thoughts slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Something was pulling him apart at the seams, unraveling him from the inside out.

A sudden spike of terror shot through him.

Was this how he would die?

Not crushed, not burned, not devoured—

but erased.

His fingers twitched—or did they?

Did he even have a body anymore?

His consciousness wavered—

Then—air.

Lucian collapsed forward, gasping, as sensation slammed back into him.

The moment his knees hit the ground, it felt like he had been spat back into reality.

His senses snapped back all at once—

air burning in his lungs, sweat freezing against his skin, the sharp ache of his trembling muscles.

He shuddered, choking on his own breath, his body barely holding itself together.

His heart slammed against his ribs, his vision darkening at the edges from sheer lack of oxygen.

His body hurt—

his muscles ached as if he had been holding his breath for minutes, his skin burned with the chill of cold sweat.

The dragon had stopped.

And somehow, that terrified him even more.

Lucian gasped sharply, staggering as if released from an unseen grip.

His breath came in ragged, uneven gulps, his body drenched in cold sweat.

He barely had time to process what had just happened when the dragon exhaled, its golden eyes gleaming with…

understanding.

The dragon’s voice was softer this time, but no less absolute.

There was something else in its tone now—not just curiosity, not just amusement.

A knowing.

It exhaled slowly.

Then, after a moment of silence—

“I see.”

“…So that’s what you are.”

As if some great and terrible puzzle had finally clicked into place.

As if Lucian had just been categorized into something beyond his own comprehension.

Lucian barely regained control of his breathing.

His legs trembled, but he forced himself to stand straight.

Whatever the dragon had done—it had seen something.

Lucian swallowed hard, his voice hoarse.

“What… what did you just do?”