Paradise High was no longer a school—it was a war zone drenched in crimson screams and blistering heat. The air quaked as the sky split open with fire. Four monstrous dragons—behemoths of scales, bone, and ancient wrath—descended with devastating fury, their wings tearing apart clouds like parchment, their roars ripping through reality.
The first wave hit like an apocalypse. Flames burst down from above, scorching the earth and turning brick to ash. Buildings exploded into dust, windows shattered miles away, and humans—students and staff alike—were incinerated where they stood. Flesh melted. Bones cracked. Paradise High was torn down, brick by brick, soul by soul.
Slyvia stood on the crumbling school steps, watching with a shattered heart as her world collapsed. The screaming of her classmates was drowned beneath the roar of infernal wings. Dragons circled like predators, smoke and flame trailing behind them in waves of utter destruction. And beyond that—Valemont City waited, next in line.
"Is this... humanity's end?" she muttered, her voice brittle and hollow.
Rose approached slowly, her face unnervingly passive, eyes locked on the chaos unraveling in front of them.
"You're the dragon rider," Slyvia said bitterly, her voice almost a hiss. "Aren't you supposed to know how to tame those beasts?"
Before Rose could respond, a blood-curdling scream echoed from across the grounds. Ava and Emily appeared, running as flaming debris fell around them like burning hail.
"Lamia is heading for Valemont City!" Ava shouted, breathless. "One of us has to stop him before he gets there!"
Slyvia shook her head, her body trembling with a mix of adrenaline and dread. The voices of her ancestors whispered in her mind, their words incoherent and panicked.
"You think we can stop him now?" she growled. "He wields the Book of Shadows. He commands dragons. He's turned. There are four of them—four! What power do any of us have against that?"
Rose swallowed hard. She didn't even know how to approach a dragon without dying—much less ride one. She was going to end up as another pile of flesh and bone in their path.
Ava turned away, frustrated and furious. "Asher's gone. Ezekiel and Jeremy too. We're the only ones left—"
But her voice died in her throat as a shadow swept over them. They turned.
A fifth dragon was coming.
Larger than all the others combined, its wings stretched across the skyline like black veils of death. Flames licked at its skeletal frame as it barreled toward them with terrifying speed. Upon its back sat a gaunt, skeletal rider with green glowing eyes—a puppet of malevolent force, limbs twitching, face cracked like stone.
"RUN!!!" Slyvia screamed. "They're immune to magic!"
The warning came a second too late.
The dragons unleashed hell.
One dragon dove into the dormitory wing, ripping it apart with its claws. Screams erupted as students inside were torn to shreds, thrown into the air like rag dolls before being swallowed whole or smashed into the concrete. Blood rained from the sky. Another dragon sprayed molten fire across the school grounds, melting everything—metal, flesh, hope.
Ava turned to help two children sprinting across the courtyard, but just as she raised her hand to shield them with a spell—
Her magic fizzled.
It vanished like a dying ember.
The dragon's eyes locked onto her.
A monstrous torrent of fire came down.
"NO!" Emily screamed, grabbing Ava and shoving her into a sewer hole nearby just before the flames hit. The blast turned the ground around them into a lake of lava. Stone cracked. Bodies vaporized. The fire came in waves—pillars of flame that painted the world orange and red.
Inside the sewer, Ava shook, her voice a whisper. "My powers… gone. Like someone snuffed them out."
"You almost died," Emily snapped, breath hitching. "Slyvia said they were immune. What she didn't say is they were animalistic even towards children."
Ava didn't answer. She just pulled Emily into a desperate hug.
"I thought it was over before it even started," she murmured. "And maybe it is. The divine being is gone. We've already lost."
Meanwhile, Slyvia ran through the one place left untouched—the ancient garden behind the school. The air here felt sacred, guarded by old magic. She fell to her knees and began to chant in the tongue of her ancestors. The wind screamed louder, circling her like a hurricane of spirits.
"Help us," she begged. "We need intervention. Please, guide me…"
Then something caught her eye—above the trees, circling on the back of a dragon, was Rose.
She was riding it.
No—she was controlling it.
Slyvia froze in disbelief. She had seen the prophecy. It was true. The last dragon rider had been reborn.
The dragon snarled and banked sharply toward her. Fire surged in its throat. There would be no time to chant. No time to run.
But Slyvia didn't retreat.
She stepped forward.
And she absorbed its energy.
Dark tendrils of magic snaked around her fingers as she drew from the dragon's soul—its rage, its fire, its history. Her eyes turned pitch-black as she chanted a forbidden spell from the blood-stained pages of the Book of Shadows. The ground cracked beneath her. The sky screamed.
A massive shockwave exploded from her chest.
The air split.
Lightning tore the sky open, dark clouds bleeding acid rain. The temperature dropped instantly, steam rising as molten fire met sudden frost. Tornadoes of black fire spiraled upward as ancient magic clashed with the dragon's fury.