Hah! Suck that up, you bastards!
That's what you get when you battle against the best fighter pilot in the world!
Oh! Hey there! Didn't see ya! I was busy cursing those damn bastards!
Anyway, I am Mark, the best fighter pilot representing the motherland!
You see, my squadron and I were assigned to patrol the seas when the enemy squadron ambushed us.
They quickly took out my squadron, with a few of my mates being able to escape, or they let them escape.
You see, their target was me! Before the ambush, I led almost fifteen successful missions with zero casualties and took out about seven fighter jets.
Even during the ambush, I used all my skills and was able to take three more fighters before I crashed into the sea.
One of them got my engines…
Anyway, I am not sad about my death; in fact, I am quite happy that I was able to contribute to my country!
GLORY TO THE MOTHERLAND!!!
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Anyway, you see, after I was dead, I thought I would meet the gods; maybe they would take me to Valhalla. I could dine and rest with the gods, I thought.
But no, I was reincarnated. I don't know if I was reincarnated or transmigrated, since my body is not that of an infant.
Actually, I am quite big, bigger than most adults.
I don't know what to do, though…. I know which world it is, and I know where I am, but what should I do…
Should I rest here until I die? Or should I travel?
If you travel, then where to? Everyone would be scared of me and there is only one place in this world where they aren't.
Haaah! I guess I should go there…. But not yet!
I should explore this place a while and bring them gifts! After all, the place I am currently at is their old home.
Alright! It's decided! I will explore this place for a month and then fly to them.
Oh! You must have been confused, right? Fly? Yes, fly!
You see, I didn't reincarnate or transmigrate, whatever term you want to use; I am not human.
In fact, I am a dragon, a dragon of Old Valyria. And I plan to go to Dragonstone. Home of the last Valyrian house—the Targaryens!
...
*ROOOAAARRR*
A loud scream echoed through the madness happening everywhere. Lava surged from beneath, and violent torrents of wind sliced the old remnants.
*ROOOAAARRR*
The mighty creature roared again, the air vibrating with the intense energy that the roar held.
FLAP
The being flapped its wings, surging into the sky, waking up a storm of wind, crushing the remnants of the once mighty freehold.
'It has been a week now, and I haven't found any gift suitable for them,' the dragon thought to itself.
Mark, now the dragon, kept flying above Old Valyria. His eyes caught sight of blazing volcanoes spewing lava, monsters of various kinds and sizes roaming the lava infested ground.
The air was filled with the thick scent of sulphur and ash, but it wasn't affecting Mark.
'I mean, this is Valyria. It should have at least dragon eggs, right?' the dragon wondered as he landed on the rubble of a once mighty castle.
The castle was charred black due to lava and fire that beckoned the doom.
His colossal head snaked through the remnants, trying to find something valuable. It searched every nook and cranny, but to no avail.
'Tsk! There is nothing here! Everything must have burned during the doom!' the dragon grumbled.
It left the castle, finding another one a few kilometres away. But no matter what it did, it couldn't find a single thing worthy of a gift!
*ROOOAAARRR*
'What is happening!? I thought the old Valyria was teeming with treasures; am I wrong?' The dragon muttered, its massive body writhed in annoyance as it let out another roar.
'Maybe, I am at the outskirts!? Should I go in?' It wondered.
'Well, it's not like the environment is harming me.' It opened its massive wings and surged into the sky with a massive roar.
It continued on its quest, venturing deep into Valyria; the climate became harsher the deeper it went.
It became hotter, sulphur stench ed the sky, while fumes of smoke covered the ground.
The dragon also noticed a few monsters along the way, but they were all scared of its size and never dared to come close to it.
The dragon soon spotted a castle; it dwarfed any castle it had seen before. Even when destroyed, it still stood tall. Its walls were charred black while fumes of smoke came out of its ruins.
The dragon ventured in, its head snaking around the halls. 'I hope I can find something; it has been almost a month.' It mumbled to itself.
It looked around the broken rooms, and soon enough, it found what it was looking for.
It seemed like it was a treasury room for the castle; lava filled the room as it snaked towards the molten slab of gold perched in the corner of the room.
'While the gold is good, it's still less compared to the thing in front of me—dragon eggs!'
Five of them in total: white, gold, black, green, blue.
The dragon grinned as it gazed at them, 'They should be enough, shouldn't they?'
It looked around for a container, as it can't hold onto them. But it couldn't find any; everything was molten.
'Hmm, should I carry them in my mouth?' it pondered. 'Well, I don't have any other means, so…'
The dragon opened its maw, its long tongue slithered out, coiling around the eggs and pulling them back to its mouth.
'I should press them against the scalp,' it mumbled to itself.
It softly pressed them against the scalp of its mouth, not putting too much pressure on it so they wouldn't break.
'Alright, time to go to Westeros; I wonder what time it is… I hope it's the dance!'
Muttering to itself, the dragon opened its massive wings and took off into the sky, flying in a north-west direction, hoping to stumble upon free cities.
'Westeros, here I come…'