"Human emotion is your weakness," Bahamut roared in his mind.
Mike ignored the voice and appeared behind another demon attacking a group of refugees. The creature laughed maniacally as it sliced into two men trying to shield women and children with their bodies.
Mike thrust his draconic arm through the demon's chest, crushing its heart. The demon collapsed in a heap, its body limp and lifeless. The scales on his body now reached to the tops of his shoulders.
"This is how Hecate played you! The demons are targeting your weakness!" Bahamut continued to roar.
Mike didn't respond. He pushed forward, consumed by rage.
His mind flashed with memories of countless battles from the trial—years of carnage, conquest, and primal survival. His body surged with strength. A faint red aura shimmered around him like smoke, flickering off his skin. Another scream echoed nearby. Without thinking, Mike sprinted toward it, the sandy earth cracking underfoot from the explosive burst.
He collided with the demon before it could react—his velocity turning the creature into a mist of blood. Using his claws, he dug into the dirt to stop his momentum. Two elderly refugees stared at him in terror and fled, vanishing into the nearby tents.
Mike let out a roar that shook the air, searching for more.
He found Hamza—wounded, surrounded by ten demons. Blood dripped from Hamza's limbs, his flames dimming. The earth was littered with charred demon corpses. Behind the line of attackers stood a towering demon with six horns and skin the color of coagulated blood.
Hamza swayed, staggering to one knee. Seeing the opening, one of the demons lunged forward—claws aimed for Hamza's throat.
Mike intercepted.
He grabbed the demon by the arm and smashed it into the ground—again and again—until the body broke into pieces from the force. Growling, Mike turned to the others. He struck fast, slashing the nearest demon and tearing its arm clean off.
Looking at Mike's arms covered in scales. Hamza says "What? How did you?"
Attacks came from every direction.
Mike responded in kind. Each time a blow hit his armor or scales, he answered with a devastating strike. Slashes appeared across his legs and forehead, blood dripping into his eyes, but he didn't slow.
A voice called from above.
"I am Ethan, chosen of Archangel Raguel—justice, fairness, and harmony!"
A man floated in the sky—brown hair, four golden wings, and a burning halo above his head. He held a glowing golden spear.
"Conspirators with demons. Surrender now and be purified in God's light!"
Beams of searing gold light rained down around the camp. Explosions erupted. Screams filled the air. Tents caught fire. Refugees were caught in the blasts—torn apart indiscriminately.
More demons emerged from the far side of the camp.
"Enough," Bahamut's voice said—flat, final.
Time slowed. The battlefield dissolved into black.
In the dark void stood the massive outline of a dragon, its massive head resting against the ground. Then—its eyes opened.
Slitted pupils like blades. Orange-red fire danced in the irises. The dragon rose, exhaling heat and fury as it looked down on Mike.
Mike couldn't move. Couldn't speak. The pressure of Bahamut's presence bore down like a mountain.
"I found a way awaken my blood in you," Bahamut said. "But you are out of control. Controlled rage, focused killing is the right of the strongest. You are still reacting like a human."
He growled. The air shook.
"You are not human anymore. If you remain human you will be devoured like your wife."
The dragon's head loomed closer, its breath hot, the glint of razor fangs flashing in the dark.
"Shed your human weakness. You have been a dragon far longer than you were a man. Those weaker than you will always try to take what is yours. They feed on your hesitation. Embrace what I gave you!"
The roar that followed shook the blackness.
"The Absolute does not feel for the weak. It obliterates all who threaten its claim. If you mourn the suffering of the world then end it. Kill them all!"
Bahamut's snout was now inches from Mike's face. His glowing eye blazed like molten gold.
"The power I gave you is to be claimed, molded, and wielded. You are the only chosen to survive my trial. You alone have earned the right to define what happens next."
The dragon turned, his great eye locking on Mike.
"This is just the beginning. The beings you face now are infants compared to what is coming. Take control before you die and stain my legacy with your failure."
Then it all vanished.
Mike's eyes snapped open. The real world rushed back. The camp burned. Gunfire rattled in the distance. The sky shimmered with golden light. Refugees screamed. Demons clashed with soldiers.
He stood motionless.
Explosions rang out. A beam of light struck nearby, launching him through the air and into a group of tents. He crashed hard—his body aching, armor cracked.
Staring up at the smoke-filled sky, his mind fractured between two lives:
—Memories of Earth: faces of his family and friends.
—Visions of the trial: standing atop a mountain, wings spread wide, overlooking the conquered wilds.
A tear rolled from the corner of his left eye.
Voices and faces echoed in his head.
Debbie's gentle words. Her warmth. Then—her terrified stare.
"The weak fear the strong," Bahamut whispered.
Then—Hunter, the council, even the bickering voices of the other chosen he'd met.
"Mutual benefit. Strategic alliance. Learn the rules of this new world," Bahamut reminded him.
The image of Kelsey, smiling in recognition just before Hecate swallowed her whole.
"They targeted your weakness. They broke you."
Mike's breathing slowed.
"To destroy anyone who dares to think of themselves as your equal. To command respect, dominate all, and punish the disobedient."
"What do you call that?" Bahamut's voice asked—clearer, calmer.
Mike's fingers curled into the dirt.
"I don't know…" he shouted into the sky. "What is it?! What's the answer that lets me keep my family safe!?"
A beat.
Then, Bahamut's voice returned.
"The Absolute."
The scales crept up Mike's neck. His face began to turn. Horns grew from the back of his head. With a loud deafening roar the battlefield froze. Air heavy with a pressure felt by all.
All the soldiers, demons the angel in the air looked toward the roar.
Loud heavy steps on the ground grew closer to them. Followed by a growling voice.
"I am the absolute."