Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

She inclined her head slightly. ”Then walk further with me,” she said. ”There is more to show you before you go searching in the dark for something that has eluded my people for longer than your kind has likely existed.”

They walked.

The hall opened into something larger, a chamber Noah hadn’t expected, the ceiling rising higher here than anywhere else they’d passed through, the ice formations hanging from it catching the cold light and scattering it across walls covered floor to ceiling in carvings he didn’t have time to read properly. Yrsala moved through it without slowing, the way someone moved through a space they had walked their entire life, and Noah followed and took in what he could.

At the chamber’s far end stood something he hadn’t expected either. A throne, carved from the same dark stone as everything else, but unoccupied, the ice across its surface thicker than anywhere else in the city, grown undisturbed for what looked like a very long time.

”My mother’s seat,” Yrsala said, noticing where his attention had gone. ”I have not claimed it properly. I rule in her place, but the seat itself waits.”

”You think she’s coming back,” Noah said.

”I do not know what I think,” Yrsala said. ”I know that claiming it feels like agreeing she will not.”

Noah said nothing to that. There wasn’t a clean response and he didn’t try to manufacture one.

They reached the chamber’s edge, where a narrow passage opened into darker tunnels beyond, the cold light from the formations fading the further the tunnels stretched.

”The Sleeper moves through passages like these,” Yrsala said. ”Deep ones, older than our city, carved by something that predates even it. We do not enter them. The cold there is not the cold of this place. It is something else entirely.”

”You’ve never followed it,” Noah said.

”We have tried,” Yrsala said. ”Generations ago, before I was born, watchers went into the deep passages searching for where it rested between its attempts on the surface. None returned with anything useful. Some did not return at all.”

Noah looked into the dark tunnel mouth.

’Somewhere in there,’ he thought. ’Storm went somewhere in there, scared and reactive and probably making things worse by being loud about it. And the Sleeper is somewhere in there too, furious and searching the same way it’s been searching for centuries.’

’I need to find him before he finds it the hard way.’

”I have to go,” he said.

Yrsala looked at him. ”Into the deep passages.”

”Eventually,” Noah said. ”First I need to find my dragon. He’s reckless and he doesn’t think things through and he’s somewhere down here without me.”

”And if you find the Sleeper before you find him,” Yrsala said.

”Then I find out a lot of things very quickly,” Noah said.

Something in her expression shifted again, the closest thing to genuine concern he’d seen from her since they met. ”You speak of facing it as though it is a possibility rather than a certainty of failure,” she said. ”My people have feared it for longer than memory holds. You speak as though it is simply the next problem.”

”It might be exactly that bad,” Noah said. ”I don’t know yet. But I won’t know standing here either.”

Yrsala held his gaze for a long moment.

”Then go,” she said. ”Find your dragon. And if you survive what you find in the dark, return here. Tell me what you learned. My people deserve to know more than we currently do about the thing that has shaped every generation since the binding broke.”

”I will,” Noah said, and meant it.

She walked him back through the chamber, through the long hall of carvings, back toward the gate and the barricades and the frost giants who watched him pass with expressions that had shifted slightly since he’d arrived, something less hostile in them now, not trust exactly, but the beginning of it.

At the gate itself, Yrsala stopped.

”How do you intend to find your way back to the surface,” she said. ”The shaft you descended is long. Even at the speed you displayed against my watchers, the climb back would take considerable time and difficulty.”

Noah looked up, through the layers of formations and ice and stone, toward a sky he couldn’t see but knew was burning red far above all of it.

He smiled.

”Ivy,” he said. ”Bloom.”

The ground cracked first.

A single line spreading out from a point near the gate, splitting the packed snow and the stone beneath it, and from the crack came a vine. Dark violet, thick as a giant’s wrist, growing up through the fracture at a speed that had nothing natural about it, branching as it climbed, more vines erupting from the widening crack and spiraling around each other in a tight upward column.

The frost giants near the gate stepped back. One of them raised its mace and Yrsala held up a hand without looking at it and the giant lowered it again, though it kept watching, jaw tight, the same wariness on its face that Noah imagined was on his own when something this size came out of the ground in front of him.

The vines kept growing. They wove together as they climbed, forming a shape, the column widening at its peak into something that curled and folded in on itself, petal by petal, dark violet shading into deep purple at the edges. A flower the size of a small building, closed tight, pulsing faintly with a light that came from somewhere inside it.

Then it burst open.

Not slowly. All at once, the petals snapping outward and shedding frost and snow in every direction, and from the center of it came Ivy.

She unfolded from the bloom the way something stepped out of a doorway it had built specifically for this entrance, violet scales catching the cold light from the ceiling formations and throwing it back in shades that made the entire chamber around her look briefly underwater. Her wings spread once, shaking loose petals and frost, and she looked down at Noah with the warm, settled attention she always gave him, the deference Storm had never quite learned and Nyx had outgrown.

The frost giants stared.

One of them, the smallest, made a sound that wasn’t quite a word but carried the same energy as one, the sound of someone seeing something they had no category for and deciding wonder was the only available response. Two others lowered their maces entirely, the heads resting against the snow, and just looked.

Yrsala herself had gone very still.

”You did not mention,” she said, ”that you carried more than one.”

”I have a few,” Noah said.

Ivy lowered her head and Noah reached up and put his palm against her jaw the way he always did, and she made a low sound that was somewhere between a purr and a question.

”I need you to find your brother,” Noah said. ”Storm. He came down here before I did. He’s not answering and that’s not like him, even when he’s being difficult.” He looked toward the dark tunnels at the chamber’s edge. ”Something’s off.”

Ivy’s eyes moved to the tunnel mouths. Her nostrils flared once, reading the air the way she read everything, and then she lowered her wing toward Noah, an invitation rather than a command.

He climbed on.

He looked back at Yrsala before they lifted. ”I’ll come back,” he said. ”Once I find him. Once I understand what’s actually down here.”

”See that you do,” Yrsala said. There was something almost warm in it now, the suspicion from earlier worn down by an hour of walking and talking and the spectacle of a flower the size of a building bursting open in her throne hall.

Ivy beat her wings once and they rose, the violet of her scales catching every formation they passed, climbing back into the long shaft that Noah had spent an hour descending the wall of, and this time the climb took minutes instead of an hour, Ivy’s wings carrying them upward through the glazed dark in a smooth uninterrupted spiral until the dim red light of the surface began to bleed down toward them.

---

They broke into open air and the heat hit immediately, the planet’s surface temperature a stark contrast to the cold he’d just left, and Ivy circled once before setting down near the hole’s rim where Brooks and the team were waiting.

Mara saw Ivy first and her mouth actually fell open.

”Oh my god,” she said. ”Oh my god that’s Ivy. That’s actually Ivy from the stream.”

”She’s beautiful,” Soren said, with the kind of unguarded sincerity that suggested he had watched more Eclipse footage than he probably wanted to admit.

Pix had his scanner up immediately, less interested in the wonder and more interested in the readings, but even he kept glancing up at her with something close to awe.

Brooks didn’t say anything about Ivy at all. She looked at Noah, climbing down, and said, ”Report.”

He gave it to her straight. The shaft, the cold, the city, the frost giants, the queen, the centuries her people had spent hiding from something her ancestors had once imprisoned and lost control of. He left Arthur’s name out of it entirely. The details of who had moved an entire civilization underground in a single act, who had taken their queen as payment, he kept folded away, unspoken.

Not because it wasn’t relevant. Because the moment he said the name, this became a different conversation, one about an old enemy and old failures and a team that had walked away from the EDF years ago partly because nobody had believed them about things exactly like this.

He didn’t know if Brooks would believe him now either. He didn’t want to find out by handing her the hardest part to swallow first.

”There’s a civilization living under that planet’s crust,” he said. ”Has been for a very long time. The dragon we’re looking for has been hunting for them on the surface for centuries, unable to find them, and every hole we saw walking in is the result of it trying.”

Rael had been quiet through most of this, arms crossed, jaw working slightly.

”That doesn’t track,” he said finally.

”What part,” Noah said.

”All of it,” Rael said. ”A whole civilization, alive, undetected, under a planet at the edge of our own solar system. Nobody’s surveys ever picked up life signs that deep. And a dragon old enough to burn holes the size of buildings into solid crust for centuries straight, looking for something it can’t find. None of that is consistent with anything we know about biology, geology, or basic physics.”

”Dude,” Noah said, ”I have flaming purple hands and that’s normal for me. Nothing about any of this has been consistent with basic physics since the day awakened abilities showed up. You’re standing on a planet that runs forty eight degrees on the surface and you’re telling me an underground civilization is the part that doesn’t track.”

Rael’s jaw tightened.

”The dragon’s blasts are what’s been heating the surface,” Noah continued. ”Slowly. Over a very long time. It’s basically terraforming this place by accident, just from centuries of trying to dig down to something it can’t reach.”

Brooks looked at the hole. Then at Noah. ”Twelve hours,” she said. ”That’s the window we agreed to before we left the station. No back up is arriving now. If something made a hole that size in solid bedrock, there’s a real chance the three of us standing here, even with what we collectively bring, are not enough to handle it cleanly. We wait. We regroup. We go in properly equipped if we have to go in at all.”

The ”Three” she was referring to was herself, Rael and Noah. All alpha ranked they were.

”We have three alpha class here,” Mara said. ”That’s not nothing.”

”It’s also not everything,” Brooks said. She looked at Noah specifically. ”You included.”

”I hear you,” Noah said. ”But I’m not waiting twelve hours. Storm’s out there and he’s not answering and that’s not normal for him even at his most difficult. I have to go find him.”

Rael straightened. ”You’re disobeying a direct order from your commanding officer.”

”She’s not my commanding officer,” Noah said, and smiled, the same easy smile he’d had on the docking bay’s first day. ”It’s a pity I don’t work for her.”

He turned to Ivy.

Mara made a small disappointed sound that wasn’t quite words, the sound of someone watching a fight she’d been hoping to see fizzle out before it started.

Noah climbed onto Ivy’s back. She unfurled her wings, the violet of them catching the red light of the dying surface around them, and lifted off the ground in one smooth motion, the heat shimmer distorting her shape almost immediately as she rose.

Within seconds she was gone, a violet shape swallowed by the hole’s dark mouth, descending back the way they’d come.

Rael stood at the rim and watched the empty air where she’d been.

”He’s going to get himself killed,” he said.

”Maybe,” Brooks said. She was still looking at the hole. ”Or maybe he’s the only one of us who actually understands what’s down there well enough to know what he’s risking.”

Nobody said anything to that.

Pix was still looking at his scanner, the readout flickering faintly with residual energy traces that hadn’t fully settled since Ivy’s arrival. ”For what it’s worth,” he said, ”her bio-signature reading was completely off the charts. Like nothing in our database.”

”Nothing about today has been in our database,” Soren said.

They settled in to wait, the twelve hours stretching ahead of them under a red sky that had been burning, slowly and patiently, for longer than any of them had words for yet.