As the final syllables of Jeanne's decree echoed through the cavern, the colossal draconic entity stirred as if awakening from an incredibly protracted slumber. It turned its massive gaze upon the subterranean landscape, its eyes burning with a primal intensity that would strike absolute, paralyzing terror into any ordinary mortal, even from afar.
The dragon seemed momentarily disoriented, struggling to comprehend how it had suddenly materialized in such a claustrophobically narrow underground vault. The surrounding environment was entirely foreign, suffocatingly confined, and—worst of all—crawling with those universally detestable creatures known as humans.
Ever since the legendary hero Siegfried had thoroughly thrashed it in the ages of myth, Fafnir had harbored an absolute, deep-seated hatred for humanity. Then again, it wasn't as though it had ever particularly liked the species to begin with. Faced with this current, irritating scenario...
Perhaps I should just slaughter every single one of these annoying insects right now....Huh? Wait a minute.
Fafnir's golden, slitted eyes shifted, suddenly locking onto the figure clad in dark armor standing directly before it. Why did this black-clad creature look so incredibly familiar? More than that, there was an inexplicable aura of profound warmth and familiarity radiating from her, almost as if she were a beloved, long-lost acquaintance from a lifetime ago.
Before its violent impulses could manifest into a devastating breath attack, Fafnir instantly went rigid. The boiling bloodlust vanished from its eyes. It could instinctively feel that the dark-clad maiden before it was a true friend—the one person in this existence who would absolutely never bring it harm.
"Are you entirely certain you command the authority to tame a beast of this magnitude? Because if I am reading its expression correctly, its current thought process involves turning us into its very first celebratory meal upon descending into this world!"
By this point, the Doctor had practically buried her face into Jeanne's shoulder, looking as though she wanted to squeeze herself entirely into the holy maiden's embrace to seek shelter. The absolute, suffocating gravitational pressure expanding from Fafnir's physical form had escalated to a terrifying degree; at this moment, the physical boundary of Jeanne's embrace was the only safe haven capable of offering her a modicum of psychological security.
Jeanne looked down at the thoroughly panicked strategist clinging to her, completely at a loss for words. Was the Doctor genuinely paralyzed by primordial terror, or was she simply capitalizing on a historic golden opportunity to casually grope her? The woman's head was practically wedged against her collarbone.
However, sensing the fine, uncontrollable tremors rippling through the Doctor's slender frame, Jeanne chose to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was highly probable that the sudden, explosive manifestation of Fafnir had genuinely pushed her nervous system to its absolute limits.
In all fairness, such a reaction was entirely scientifically justified. True Dragons were entities born at the absolute apex of the evolutionary ladder, meaning their biological existence naturally projected a crushing psychological aura over all lesser lifeforms. An ordinary human could quite literally suffer an immediate, fatal cardiac arrest from nothing more than a dragon's direct, concentrated glare.
The sole reason Jeanne could stand casually in Fafnir's presence—and ensure the safety of the woman clinging to her—was because her own divine parameters were robust enough to completely neutralize the existential weight that would have otherwise snuffed out the Doctor's fragile life.
Though, strictly speaking, the Doctor didn't actually need to press this close. The protective boundary generated by Jeanne neutralized the crushing pressure perfectly across a flat ten-meter radius. Squeezing herself against the maiden's body added absolutely nothing to her physical safety parameters; it was entirely for psychological comfort.
Fortunately, the Doctor didn't weigh much at all. Whether she was merely hugging Jeanne or dangling from her waist like a desperate koala, her physical mass didn't hinder Jeanne's mobility in the slightest. Furthermore, the Doctor was smart enough to remain perfectly still, ensuring she didn't disrupt the holy maiden's concentration—because if Jeanne fumbled her diplomacy now, they were both going to end up thoroughly dead!
"Fafnir, it's me!" Jeanne called out, immediately picking up on the fact that the dragon hadn't fully reconciled her current dark form with its past memories. She took a tentative step forward, testing the waters to see exactly how much of its past consciousness remained intact.
Dear sis, a line of dialogue that hesitant does not inspire a massive wave of logistical confidence! The Doctor cried out internally. Watching Jeanne initiate contact with an apex predator as if she were casually bumping into an old classmate on the street only amplified her underlying anxiety.
This was a genuine, living myth standing before them! And did Jeanne just refer to it as Fafnir? Was she speaking of the literal, canonical Fafnir from the ancient texts?
How on earth did a holy maiden of Earth's Gaul establish a personal, casual relationship with a legendary malevolent dragon of Nordic myth? The sheer, unadulterated chaos of Jeanne's social circle was staggering.
The Doctor felt as though her internal monologue had been permanently converted into a high-speed commentary engine. Her mind was practically overflowing with a thousand scathing critiques and analytical questions, yet she lacked the literal respiratory capacity to voice a single one aloud, forcing her to silently vent her bewilderment in the absolute depths of her psyche.
Upon hearing Jeanne's voice echo through the chamber, a powerful wave of recognition rippled through Fafnir's consciousness. Wait... this sister, have I truly crossed paths with her somewhere before? Furthermore, just looking at her, my instincts are screaming that she could never be an enemy...
Fafnir unleashed a heavy, rumbling growl toward Jeanne. Yet, even with her human senses, the Doctor could instantly discern that this wasn't a roar of predatory aggression; it carried the deep, resonant cadence of pure, unadulterated joy—the unmistakable sound of a long-awaited reunion between old companions. The great beast was explicitly, overwhelmingly ecstatic to see her.
A massive wave of relief washed over the Doctor, her tense muscles finally relaxing as she realized her life wasn't going to cut to black in this cavern. Though the underlying cosmic principles of how Jeanne managed to command the absolute devotion of a legendary world-ending dragon remained a thoroughly baffling, scientifically impossible riddle, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
At that moment, Fafnir appeared to place its absolute, unwavering trust in the maiden before it. It slowly lowered its colossal, terrifying head until it was level with her platform, allowing Jeanne to gently rest her palm against its smooth, heavy scales—creating a beautifully harmonious, almost sacred tableau amidst the ruined stone.
In that exact instant of physical connection, both Jeanne and Fafnir felt an invisible, unbreakable thread of spiritual energy snap into place between their souls. Their consciousnesses intertwined, allowing them to instantly perceive the exact emotional fluctuations of the other, forging a profound baseline of absolute, mutual trust.
It felt precisely like the instinctual, telepathic connection shared between identical twins. Jeanne hadn't anticipated that the summoning grimoire would establish such a deep, symbiotic bond between their spirits, though she quickly noted with relief that she retained the absolute authority to unilaterally sever the connection whenever she required privacy.
Fafnir, on the other hand, experienced a flash of profound surprise when the spiritual link anchored into its mind. However, the momentary shock quickly faded from its dark-gold eyes, giving way to a tranquil acceptance. In its estimation, where Jeanne was concerned, the word "impossible" simply didn't exist.
"While I have absolutely no desire to interrupt this beautiful, touching moment of spiritual communion, I must heavily insist that we evacuate this godforsaken pit immediately! This entire sector is on the absolute verge of a catastrophic collapse!"
The Doctor watched the silent, esoteric dialogue unfolding between the two with immense academic fascination, but her survival instincts quickly overrode her curiosity. The celestial core above them had been completely hollowed out of its energy matrix; the structurally compromised shell was visibly buckling under its own weight, seconds away from fracturing into millions of pieces!
The moment that massive crystalline framework shattered, the entire localized pocket of space it had carved out would be instantaneously obliterated beneath hundreds of thousands of tons of shifting bedrock and loose soil. The Doctor was acutely aware that her human anatomy possessed an absolute zero percent success rate of surviving an industrial cave-in.
To preserve her own skin—and by extension, Jeanne's—she chose to play the role of the tactless atmosphere killer, aggressively shattering the heartwarming reunion. After all, when all was said and done, preserving one's life was the ultimate directive.
As if validating her frantic warning, a sharp, deafening sequence of structural fractures rippled across the cavern ceiling, a blatant environmental signifier that the subterranean architecture had reached its absolute breaking point, screaming at them to run as far and as fast as their legs could carry them.
Jeanne quickly assessed the structural failure, yet her features remained entirely devoid of panic. Are you joking? I am a woman who officially possesses a True Dragon now. Why on earth would I show a single shred of fear toward a localized geological cave-in?
The moment Fafnir's summoning was finalized, Jeanne felt an intoxicating wave of absolute invincibility surge through her veins, making her feel as though she could comfortably walk across the face of Terra completely uncontested. That small, unchecked spark of pride began to rapidly expand within her chest; Jeanne was undeniably beginning to grow dangerously arrogant!
No, wait... I must restrain this arrogance! Jeanne fiercely warned herself in the depths of her mind. What if this chaotic world decides to play a massive cosmic joke on me and arbitrarily spawns a wild Siegfried, or some legendary dragon-slaying superhero out of nowhere? I'd look like an absolute fool.
That's right, I need to maintain a stable, grounded operational framework! As her thoughts spun out into increasingly absurd hypothetical scenarios, her focus drifted entirely off-track.
$$##——!$$#
Fafnir instantly caught the mental echo of the name Siegfried vibrating through the spiritual link. The mere memory of the gold-clad warrior who had violently severed its life and plundered its treasured hoard caused an immediate surge of profound irritation to boil within its chest, triggering an intense, instinctual urge to track down the hero and beat him into a fine paste.
"Now is absolutely not the time to be dwelling on ancient grievances; we need to clear out of here immediately!" Jeanne murmured softly, projecting a wave of calming, reassuring emotion through the link to soothe the dragon's irritation. She then turned her eyes back to the strategist, asking, "Let's make our exit. By the way, you explicitly instructed Theresa and the perimeter guards to pull back to a maximum safety threshold, correct?"
"They're far enough, they're far enough! I can guarantee the entire sector is completely deserted by now! But more importantly—how exactly do you expect us to get out of here?!"
The Doctor replied at a frantic clip. Based on her calculations, the remaining time before absolute structural failure was far too narrow; attempting to navigate back through the winding excavation tunnels on foot was a logistical impossibility. The terrifying vibrations tearing through the bedrock were a literal death sentence!
"There's an alternative route, and it might actually pull double duty by handling a minor administrative task for your engineering crew. Tell me, Doctor... have you ever experienced the sensation of high-altitude flight?" Jeanne's eyes crinkled into a brilliant, mischievous smile as she locked eyes with Fafnir.
Fafnir immediately caught the underlying directive behind Jeanne's gaze. It inclined its massive head, lowering its armored shoulder in a clear invitation for the maiden to mount. The Doctor instantly deciphered the trajectory of the plan, staring at the colossal winged apex predator while swallowing a heavy lump of nerves.
Whatever, let's fly! She resolved internally. Jeanne was a fundamentally rational soul; she would never allow her to plummet to her death for amusement. It was infinitely wiser to place her absolute faith in the holy maiden's parameters and simply focus every ounce of her remaining physical strength on gripping that enticing, reliable thigh!
In all honesty, possessing a powerful, dependable ally to lean on was an unparalleled luxury—especially when that ally's presence felt so comforting, warm, and... wait, no. It was an exceptionally powerful and utterly reliable foundation!
Up on the surface, just as the earth began to let out a deep, ominous roar and Theresa's vanguard was growing increasingly paralyzed with worry over the fate of the team below, the valley floor suddenly began to swell upward in a massive, violent ridge. A split second later, a magnificent, colossal living entity shattered the crust of the earth, launching itself straight into the heavens like an artillery shell.
After an absence spanning countless millennia, Fafnir unfurled its massive, shadow-draped wings, riding the thermal currents to soar across the open sky once more. In that singular, historic heartbeat, the blinding radiance of the midday sun was completely choked out by the sheer, unadulterated scale of its draconic silhouette.
The sky had gone entirely black!