My Infinite System.

The brig was quiet.

Karl sat with his back against the wall, head tilted, listening to the hum of the suppression field like it was some dull song stuck on repeat. He was about to close his eyes when the air shifted. Heavy. Sharp.

Something stepped in.

At first, Karl thought it was Lucian again—but no. The figure was small, perched on four clawed feet, scales glimmering faint in the dim light. A dragon.

Kaelis.

Karl froze before he even realized it. His body moved on instinct, head lowering, shoulders tight. The weight rolling off the creature wasn’t just strength. It was ancient. A pressure so deep it made his father’s presence feel like a candle compared to the sun.

His throat went dry. If his father had been like a god... then this little dragon in front of him was something beyond that.

Kaelis tilted his head, molten eyes narrowing, and for a moment Karl thought he might be crushed on the spot. Then the dragon’s voice rumbled through the cell, deep but oddly annoyed.

”Little dragon? Did you really just think that?”

Karl blinked. ”What?”

”I can hear it in your face, brat,” Kaelis grumbled, tail flicking. ”The look. The thought. ’Oh, what a little dragon, so small, so harmless.’” He snorted, smoke curling from his nostrils. ”I am not little. I have burned worlds before your father was a whisper.”

Karl actually choked on a laugh, still bowing his head. ”You—read minds now?”

”I don’t need to,” Kaelis shot back, puffing his chest. ”Your kind wear thoughts like banners. And don’t compare me to your overgrown lizard of a father.” His claws scraped against the floor as he leaned closer. ”The kind of power I hold would erase him before he drew his first breath.”

Karl glanced up. The dragon’s eyes blazed, fire caught in glass. And yet, beneath the weight of it, Karl felt something strange. Not terror. Not quite. Something... lighter.

He smirked faintly. ”You’re pretty cranky for a god of gods.”

Kaelis huffed. ”Cranky? Brat, I should roast you where you sit.”

”But you won’t.” Karl leaned back, chains rattling. ”If you were going to, you’d have done it the second I thought the word ’little.’” He let out a short laugh. ”You’re all bark.”

Kaelis growled, smoke spilling heavier. But then—he snorted. Almost like a laugh. ”You’ve got a sharp tongue for a runt.”

Karl grinned, the tension slipping. For the first time since the cell closed around him, he didn’t feel the weight pressing down so heavy. ”Well, someone has to. Lucian sure doesn’t talk much. Does he even smile? Or does he save all his expressions for glaring at maps?”

Kaelis chuckled low, like gravel grinding together. ”Careful, brat. He’s not someone you joke about.”

Karl shrugged, still smirking. ”He’s strong, no doubt. But a little stiff, isn’t he? You’d think a man with all that power could relax once in a while. Maybe crack a joke.”

”You’ve been chained for days,” Kaelis said flatly. ”And your first idea of freedom is mocking the one who chained you.”

”Mocking keeps me sane,” Karl replied simply. ”Besides, you laughed.”

The dragon tilted his head, as if surprised at himself, then shook it with a rumble. ”You’re strange.”

”And you’re not?” Karl shot back. ”Walking in here, acting all mighty, when you’re barely the size of a dog.”

Kaelis bared his fangs, smoke curling high. ”Dog?”

Karl bit down a laugh, shoulders shaking. ”I’m kidding. Don’t blow your scales off.”

For a moment, the brig felt lighter. The heavy silence gave way to something closer to... banter. Karl hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that. Talking without needing to guard every word.

The dragon watched him, quiet now. His molten gaze flicked over Karl, as if seeing past the smirk, past the jokes.

”I’ve seen enough of your kind,” Kaelis said finally. ”You laugh to bury it. You joke because if you stop, the weight crushes you.”

Karl’s grin faltered. Just for a second.

Kaelis stepped closer, his claws clicking against the floor. ”Tell me, brat. Do you want it? Power.” His voice deepened, heavy with something old, something vast. ”Do you want to unlock what sleeps inside you? The blood of dragons. Not the scraps your father scorned, not the crumbs your brother flaunts. The real thing.”

Karl’s throat tightened. He looked at the little dragon—no, the being before him—and for the first time, the smirk slipped away.

”You’re saying...” His voice was low, almost careful. ”...you can give me that?”

Kaelis’s tail coiled lazily, but his aura pressed heavier. ”I don’t give. I awaken. I see you. You hide behind jokes, behind bitterness, but inside you’re still screaming. That girl. That family. The throne you never cared about. It burns in you.”

Karl clenched his fists against the restraints, chains rattling.

Kaelis leaned in, smoke curling hot across Karl’s face. ”Dragon to dragon... I can make you more than the weakling your father cursed. But it will cost you. Are you ready for that?”

Karl’s chest rose and fell, sharp. He looked at the dragon, at the molten eyes that saw straight through him, and for once he didn’t reach for a joke.

Instead, he whispered, steady.

”Tell me what I have to do.”

The brig hummed, the lights flickering faintly, as if the Sanctum itself leaned closer to hear the answer.

And Kaelis, ancient and terrible and amused all the same, let his fangs show in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

”Good,” he rumbled. ”Very good.”

Kaelis let the silence hang, smoke curling from his nostrils. Then he spoke, voice low but sharp.

”There’s a cost.”

Karl narrowed his eyes. ”Figures. What is it? Blood? Soul? Some ritual that’ll fry me alive?”

Kaelis leaned closer, molten eyes gleaming. ”No. You’ll be mine. My lapdog. For the rest of your life.”

Karl blinked, then burst out laughing. The sound echoed off the brig walls, raw and unexpected. ”Lapdog? That’s it? I thought you’d say eternal suffering or carrying your eggs or something dramatic.”

The dragon snorted. ”Mock me again and I’ll make you polish every scale on my body for eternity.”

Karl grinned wide, shaking his head. ”Fine. I’ll bark when you tell me to. Fetch sticks too, if it gets me the power.”

Kaelis’s claws scraped the floor as he stepped back. ”You joke, but you’ve already agreed. Dragon blood has its price. You serve me, you live with strength. Refuse me, and you stay weak.”

Karl’s smirk softened, just for a moment. ”Then I’ll serve. Beats being the useless one forever.”

Kaelis rumbled, smoke rising thicker. ”Good. Then let’s begin.”

And for the first time in years, Karl felt the weight inside him stir.