Xolor dashed through the streets of Chinatown, placing little black tripods at the corner of every avenue.

“I’ll never understand how these dragon sensors really work,” he murmured to himself. “I know they’re supposed to reveal everyone’s ‘true’ forms, but how?”

He scratched his head in confusion and continued to sprint through the various streets, pondering the question in his mind.

“Probably just some cool technology innovation I guess. Miry would probably know.”

A burnt orange hue enveloped the sky in a warm embrace, and the golden sun above began to lower its weary arms.

Across the horizon, the young scout continued to run, from Grand St to Delancey St and finally to Houston, only stopping for a breather at the intersection between Bowery and Houston.

A slight grin spread across Xolor’s face, and he pumped his fist toward the sky in a sense of achievement.

“Lower East Side scouted!” he rejoiced to himself. “Hell yeah. Bet no other scout could do that.”

He placed his final black tripod on the ground and turned the corner with fear as the sensor began to ring like an annoying fire alarm.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

He raised his arms to his ears to cover the sound, but the sharpness of the screeches continued to pierce his ears.

“Is this thing broken?” he shouted. “There’s no way it has found a dragon already. How can it…”

His vision blurred, and within seconds, Xolor felt a cold chill run down his spine. The weight of a paw rested on his right shoulders, and he felt the creature’s sharp talons dig slightly into his back menacingly.

One deep breath. And then another.

Xolor tumbled to the side nimbly and rubbed his eyes before taking a proper look at his “guest.”

Obsidian black tattoos that glowed a neon-green. Sharp red scales and long claws. And most importantly, a crippled pair of ocean-blue wings that had probably seen one too many fights.

Xolor stumbled backwards in fear at the sight of the elder dragon, having studied enough to know when the end of his life was near, and watched as the old man crushed the black tripod under his feet.

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The incessant noise came to a halt, and the old man stumbled forward with his cane barely supporting his feet.

His eyes glowed red with ardor, and he hobbled over excitedly to the young man paralyzed by fear.

“It’s been so long since I had such a MEAL,” the dragon said, reaching his claws toward Xolor’s head with a frightening speed.

But before his claws could touch the top of his head, a sudden gush of blood burst from his midsection, and the elder dragon crumbled to the floor.

Xolor quickly extracted his acclaimed dragon salts and threw them at the old man, causing him to lose his bloodrush and clutched his open stomach as he slowly came back to consciousness.

“Shit, I must’ve fought too hard against that rampaging buffoon in the downtown area this morning,” he grumbled, slowly getting to his feet. “I must be getting old if it’s this hard to control nowadays. Fuck. This is how it ends?”

His body tattoos glowed a strong neon-green before disappearing, and he titled his head upwards to see the trembling young scout.

Gasping with surprise, he let out an affectionate murmur and began to crawl toward the frightened Xolor.

“Xalax, is it you?” he questioned. “W-Where have you been? Your wife weeps for you still, and…”

He paused for a second and rubbed his eyes with his now-human hands in disbelief. Looking closer, he glared disrespectfully and spat a wad of saliva on the ground.

“God is really playing tricks on me today, huh? Heh, old age really is something. Fucking kids all look like old remnants of the past.”

The old man slowly leaned his head against the wall and squeezed his stomach as a second burst of blood flowed from his stomach.

“What the hell are you still doing here? Leave before I lose control!” screamed the elder dragon, but it was far too late.

Ocean blue wings sprouted from his back again, and a cold reptilian arm shot out like an arrow, grabbing Xolor by the throat.

Flailing, the young scout kicked his feet in surprise as he was dragged into the air and attempted to pry the dragon’s claw off of him, but there was nothing he could do.

As the seconds passed dreadfully like an eternal wait, the unleashed elder bit into his own arm and trickled his blood down the young man’s throat.

“A hopeless attempt indeed,” murmured the elder dragon. “But if this is my last moment on Earth, I might as well see for myself who you are.”

Silence filled the air, freezing time in a world-shattering grey and white, as an unnatural volcanic heat gurgled down Xolor’s throat. He wreathed in pain, still being grabbed by the dying elder dragon, kicking with all his might as his body shook as if being awakened by something new.

A hefty roar exited from Xolor’s throat, and he felt the prickling heat leave his body. As the elder dragon slumped to the floor with a smile, a familiar obsidian black tattoo began to emanate a faint light from Xolor’s neck.

“I knew it,” the old dragon said with a raspy voice. “You…you are his son!”

Tears fell from the creature’s wrinkled red scales, and he took a deep breath.

“Yes. The prophecy is true. Glory or destruction; all will sprout from the Dynasty of Xolor.”

As the dragon’s ocean blue wings collapsed with a thud and the old dragon gently laid his head into eternal rest, Xolor hugged the wall and stumbled slowly to his feet.

His body felt wrong, agitated and restless, but it also felt…right.

He just couldn’t wrap his head around the sudden events of today, but as he placed foot after foot, hugging the wall for reassurance, a wave of fatigue knocked him to the ground.

“Miry, your boba. I’m sorry,” he muttered as he collapsed face first into the pavement of New York. “But at least, I’m safe…I think.”

Snores quickly filled the surrounding as a beautiful dark brown haired woman fixated intently on the glowing symbol from his neck.

Her face was filled with shock, terror, and confusion as she thought back to the same symbol that had haunted her since her mother’s death and the now-slumped body of her first love.

“No. Noo. NO!” she screamed, clutching her heart with agony and fiddling with her yellow receiver. “This is all wrong. Xolor can’t be a dragon. I-I’ve known him my whole life! H-he’s kind and funny and cute and…he’s nothing like those filthy monsters.”

“Oh mother, what should I do now?” she cried. “My world has been turned upside down, and I-I’m just so lost.”

She took a deep breath and calmed her beating heart, her hands still playing with the yellow receiver.

“No, I must not make any hasty moves. After all, there is only one right course of action.”

With trembling hands, Miranda pressed the red button on the receiver, causing city-wide sirens to blare loudly, and waited anxiously for the DAF’s arrival.