Ryukyu's awareness returned as a slow, sickening thaw.
A deep, hollow ache filled her side. It was a void where her own body should have been, a space that felt cold and empty. Pain followed, thick and throbbing, radiating from her abdomen. Memory pieced itself together: the dark slash of a portal in her agency, the sharp sting of a dart, the unforgiving chill of a metal table.
She opened her eyes.
She was on a slab in a chamber that hurt to look at. The air buzzed and pressed down on her, a physical weight that made the dragon within her cower. Tubes snaked from her arms. A heavy, glowing collar locked around her neck. A Quirk suppressor. It didn't just block her power; it felt like it was smothering her spirit.
Panic, clean and sharp, cut through the sedation. She tried to move, to transform, to fight. Her body answered with a weak shudder. The suppressor held her completely. Her gaze, wide with fear, swept over the jars of organic samples, the vials of glowing liquid, the machines pulsing with stolen energies.
Then she saw it.
The egg.
It was attached to her right side, a grotesque growth the size of a person. Its surface was a shifting, wet membrane that pulsed with a slow, internal light. A shadow moved inside. A large, defined shape.
A cold terror locked her lungs. What did they do to me?
The egg shuddered.
A sound like tearing skin and snapping cables filled the chamber. The membrane split from within. A hand forced its way out—slick with fluid, patterned with faint, dark scales, tipped with claws of black keratin.
The scientist, Cisco, rushed forward, his face alight with a terrible joy. "At last! Emerge! Witness your own perfection!"
The being inside did not acknowledge him. A second hand emerged, braced against the shell, and pushed. With a final wet rip, the figure hauled itself out and slumped onto the lab floor.
Ryukyu stared.
He was built like a man, tall and powerfully formed. His skin was her pale shade, but traced with lines of darker scales along his spine and shoulders. His face was sharp, severe, sharing the structure of her own. But his eyes were open.
They were molten gold, slit-pupiled like a dragon's. But within that gold swam flashes of alien color—flecks of Saiyan blue, hints of Viltrumite black. There was no infant's confusion. There was a heavy, ancient awareness watching from behind them.
From his forehead, two sleek black antennae twitched. Small arcs of red energy sparked between them. He pushed himself to his feet, his movements unsteady for only a second before settling into a predatory balance. He looked at his clawed hands. He touched his throat, which had the segmented, grille-like texture of something not human.
He took his first breath. It was a deep, pulling inhale. When he exhaled, a plume of freezing mist crystallized in the air between him and Cisco. He looked at the frost on the floor, curious.
Cisco stepped closer, trembling. "Do you understand? You are my greatest work. I name you Aion. You contain the summit of all existence!"
Aion's swirling eyes fixed on Cisco. The look was not one of understanding. It was the assessment of a complex organism regarding a simple obstruction. A barrier.
His antennae flashed. A visible wave of force ripped through the lab. Every light died. Every machine screamed into silence as their power was violently torn from them and sucked into the antennae on his head. They glowed a fierce, hungry red. The room was left in the dim pulse of emergency lights.
Cisco stumbled back. "No! The containment protocols! You must—"
Aion stepped forward. A reinforced titanium column stood in his path. He did not stop. He walked straight into it, and his body became insubstantial and smoky. He phased through the solid metal as if it were fog and solidified on the other side.
He now stood between Cisco and the room's main control console. Cisco fumbled for a device on his belt.
Aion looked at his right hand. He spread his five fingers. An instinct, inherited from a world of dust, told him what to do. He did not know the word "Decay." He only knew that to touch was to end.
He reached for the console. His fingertips brushed the metal.
It was silent. The console, and a large section of the wall behind it, crumbled into a fine, gray powder. The dust expanded in a perfect wave and then settled. The effect ended exactly where his little finger lifted away.
The message was absolute.
Cisco froze. The device fell from his hand and clattered on the floor.
Aion turned his golden eyes from the dust to his creator. The intelligence in them was now focused, sharp, and held no trace of mercy. It was the look of a dragon finding a poacher in its den.
He had breathed. He had fed. He had unmade.
Now, he would be free.
· Tier: 2-A (Multiverse Level+). Demonstrated passive energy absorption on a massive scale (Feedback). Exhibited reality-dismantling hax (Decay).
· Key Feat: Effortless disintegration of complex, reinforced materials via 5-point touch. Instantaneous adaptation and use of phasing ability.
· State: Newborn, instinct-driven. Power is activated reflexively, not tactically. Core consciousness is forming from conflicting genetic memory.
· Primary Objective (Instinctual): Remove threats. Remove barriers.