The dragon's voice rolled through the cavern like distant thunder."You did an excellent job. I expected nothing less."
Brook tightened his grip on the cold stone beneath his feet. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"The way you saved the princess," the dragon replied. "That was precisely what I anticipated."
"How do you know about that?" Brook's voice trembled between suspicion and awe.
A low chuckle rumbled from the beast. "I summoned you here."
Brook swallowed. "Then… what happened to my body?"
"I kept it safe," the dragon said simply.
Brook's brow furrowed. "Wouldn't someone notice? Wouldn't they find my body… or—"
"That is exactly why I called you," the dragon interrupted. "You are alone. No one watches for you. Even if you vanish, nobody would stir. That made you the perfect vessel."
Brook paused. Alone. Of course. "After all," he said quietly, "I'm no stranger to loneliness. It doesn't matter to me."
The dragon's eyes—old and fathomless—fixed on him. "Then why did you summon me?"
A silence settled, heavy as stone, before the dragon answered. "Demons are probing this realm. They opened a fissure and sent a spirit through. If I reveal myself and leave this cavern, the balance will tip. My presence in the open would weaken the sealing rules that hold them back. The crack would widen; it would become far easier to call a demon king."
Brook frowned. "If you can summon me, can't you simply push the demons back? Close the rift?"
"It is not so simple," the dragon said. "I must preserve equilibrium. Direct interference at the wrong time would cascade into catastrophe. Instead, I summoned your soul, placed it into Hanibal's body, and extracted his intent. I prevented his suicide before he could drink the poison—then I restored him when your role was complete."
Brook's breath caught. "Why save Hanibal? Why risk all this for a swordsman?"
"Because he is one of the realm's few counterweights to the demonic tide. His strength will matter when the true war begins," the dragon replied.
Brook's mind raced. "Why not inform the king? Why not ask the throne for aid?"
The dragon's scales shimmered with an unreadable expression. "There is a barrier around the palace. My senses do not pass it. The king has already aligned himself with what lies beyond the seal."
Brook stared. "So he's sided with the demons."
"It appears so." The dragon's voice grew colder. "Also—do you wonder why the poison-as-elixir idea worked so well? Why you were so certain it would?"
Brook nodded. "Yes. How did you know to make me suggest it?"
"I planted the thought in you," the dragon said. "A whisper, a nudge. I can guide minds—sparsely and carefully—without tearing the fabric. You felt like the origin. That was my design."
Brook's eyes widened. "If you can insert a thought into one person, why not into a hundred? Into every noble mind in the kingdom? We could overthrow the king."
A rumble like a distant storm shook the cave. "No. If I push an idea through an entire nation, the disturbance to the balance would be immense. The fissure would widen beyond control—large enough to call a demon general through. The cure would spawn a greater plague."
Brook's jaw tightened. "Why would the demon king even want our realm? He has his own."
The dragon's gaze turned inward, ancient and simple. "Desire. All creatures seek to add, to possess, to hold more. Mortals desire with hearts full of feeling; that temper softens and shapes them. Demons desire with a single flame: hunger without feeling. They do not weigh consequence with empathy. They will scorch the world to sate that hunger."
Brook swallowed. "And you? What do you feel?"
Dragon—tilted his head. "I feel nothing in the human sense. I act to preserve the order. Power taught me restraint. The more one controls, the more one can discard emotion in favor of purpose. It is the only way to endure for millennia."
Brook found himself asking what he hadn't expected. "So… why involve me? What do you want me to do?"
The dragon's eyes narrowed until they were twin moons. "Stop the king and his games. Prevent him from consolidating control. Break his alliances with those who pry at our seals. If the king succeeds in bending this realm, the crack will widen, and demons will pour through like a flood."
Brook felt the weight of the dragon's words settle into his bones. Stop the king. The command was simple; the path, anything but.
The cavern hummed with quiet power. The dragon's voice softened, but every syllable struck like steel. "You will not be given armies. You will not be offered crowns. You have what you have—a borrowed life, a mind that remembers both worlds, and a chance to tip fate. Choose carefully, Brook."
Brook's chest tightened. I don't even know how to play politics, he thought. But I won't let him win.
He stepped back, the echo of his footfall swallowed by the cavern. The dragon's blue-tinged wings stirred the stale air, and for a moment the beast looked not like a destroyer but like a judge.
"Begin," Dragon intoned. "And be cunning."
Brook stared upward at the white scales, the blue wings, the eyes that had seen ages fall and rise. He was startled—and utterly amazed. The world had opened wider than he had ever imagined.