Pain. Unbearable, mind-shattering pain—the kind that claws at the soul, begging for the sweet release of death. Drake, as an average human, had never endured such excruciating agony, a torment that threatened to rip both his spirit and flesh asunder.
The human brain usually succumbs to unconsciousness under severe pain, a self-preservation mechanism. Yet, whether it was the lizard body's lack of such a feature or the pain that transcended instinct, Drake found himself agonizingly alert, his consciousness sharpening amidst the suffering as if ascending toward some divine realm or achieving celestial enlightenment.
His consciousness seemed to detach from his body, rising above the limits of his physical form to a 360-degree view of existence. Even his current lizard form was wholly visible to him. The darkness of the cavern held no sway over Drake's disembodied sight, and it was then that he discovered the object he had collided with was no mere mineral but an artificial construct akin to a spaceship.
It was sleek, flawless in design, its color indescribable, and its metal-like shell seamless. A mere glance told Drake this was no human creation; it was a vessel of perfection beyond current human technological grasp.
This spacecraft was not large, perhaps six or seven meters in length, but to a basilisk lizard, it was monumental. Suddenly, the ship's hull shimmered, and a seam appeared, bisecting the craft. From its core, a crystal radiating a rainbow of light emerged slowly.
In the presence of this crystal, even Drake's ethereal form felt a primal urge to bow in reverence. It wasn't just a mere crystal—it seemed to be the essence of a deity, an apex being towering above all of creation.
The crystal's shape was indefinable, its form shifting between geometries, eluding description, existing as the world's most cryptic entity and non-entity. The sight of it eased Drake's pain.
Then, under some invisible influence, the crystal floated towards Drake's tiny lizard body, and upon contact, his flesh dissolved, assimilating onto the crystal. Fear gripped Drake's consciousness—the death of his corporeal form might mean he was already dead, his soul lingering only briefly.
Yet, his thoughts were too lucid for a dead man.
The blood-coated crystal, as if fulfilling its purpose, returned to the heart of the spacecraft. It wasn't resting, however; instead, a tube rose from within, filled with crimson blood. As the crystal merged with the blood, it transformed into a pulsating mass that expanded rapidly around the crystal core.
With a sudden light, the ship liquefied, vaporized, and finally, transformed into pure energy, infusing the burgeoning mass with power. As energy poured in, the growth accelerated—cells, nerves, vessels, and bones multiplied at a visible rate, a grotesque spectacle of life unfurling.
Slowly, the form took shape: a body like a puma, vast wings like a bat, sturdy limbs, and majestic claws. A neck, both elegant and robust, led to a draconic head both regal and terrifying, with a lengthy, barbed tail behind. Gold-like scales covered its body, each one shimmering with light.
Drake knew without having seen one before—this was a dragon, straight from the mythos of the Western world. A young one, four meters in length, but exuding a beauty that promised splendor once it reached adulthood.
The newborn dragon breathed softly, drawing Drake's soul towards it. As his essence merged with the dragon, he was overcome with weariness. The once-maddening pain faded, replaced by a surge of strength in his consciousness. But sleep was irresistible, and Drake drifted into slumber as easily as one slipping into a peaceful night's rest.
In his dreams, he was a sacred primordial dragon, dominating the lands. Mythical beings kneeled before him, gods lay prostrate, angels served, and demons quaked. A crown rested upon his dragon head, symbolizing the worship of countless races—a dream of ultimate ascendancy.