The glow of evolution seemed to last forever.
Limpick had no clue how long. Down in this cavern there was no sun, no moon—just the stones and bones pulsing with light, bright then dark, bright then dark, like a slow heartbeat. He stayed crouched right there, watching the light on Number One crawl from the tip of its tail up to its head and then flow back down, circling over and over.
The system panel numbers kept jumping.
0.1%.
0.5%.
1.2%.
Every jump made Number One shudder. Not out of fear—this was bones cracking, skin stretching tight, fur shedding in clumps. The gray hairs fell like dead leaves in late autumn, piling on the ground. Underneath wasn't skin. It was scales—black, dark red, gray—packed tight, layer over layer, harder than fish scales.
Limpick reached out to touch them. The second his fingers brushed the scales, a wave of heat shot up his arm. Not burning hot—just warm, like stone fresh off a fire.
Number One glanced back. The flames dancing in those golden eyes had settled now, no longer wild. More like a steady furnace burning quiet and controlled.
Then it turned back to the dragon skeleton.
Limpick pulled his hand away and kept watching.
2.8%.
3.1%.
3.6%.
The panel finally locked at 3.7%.
[Evolution Gain: 3.7%]
[Current Stage: Juvenile – Early]
[Estimated Size Increase: 400%–500%]
Limpick didn't have time to figure out what that size jump meant before Number One started changing.
The legs went first.
Those four stubby little legs stretched outward. Bones popped and cracked as the skin pulled drum-tight. Muscles bulged and swelled underneath. Number One hissed in pain, the sound sharp and thin, bouncing around the cavern.
Limpick started to reach for it, then stopped halfway. He had no idea what he could do, so he just crouched there and watched.
Number One's back arched hard. Its spine pushed out vertebra by vertebra, each one stretching the body longer—at least twice as long. The neck grew too, shooting upward from the shoulders, longer and thinner, until it looked like a snake's neck with the head perched on top, swaying.
The tail kept growing.
The scaled section shot outward segment by segment, getting thicker, coiling once on the ground and still stretching.
The wings were the wildest part.
Limpick saw two slits tear open on Number One's back. Small bumps formed, then grew, pushing the scales apart. Two fleshy bundles pushed out, shook once, and unfurled—thin membranes stretched over long, slender bones, tiny blood vessels running through them like rivers.
The wings were small, even smaller than the body, all wrinkled and half-formed. But they moved, opening and closing, stirring the air with a loud whoosh.
Limpick crouched there with his mouth hanging open.
The light in the dragon skeleton above started to fade.
Not all at once—slowly. The red glow inside the bones was being sucked away, retreating toward Number One from the tips inward. One rib went dull, then two, then three—until the whole skeleton turned lifeless gray-white, like the dead stones outside.
Number One's light grew brighter.
It stood under the skeleton, every scale glowing—black, red, gray—lighting the entire cavern like daylight. Its body had already grown to the size of a full-grown dog.
Not a puppy. The big kind—black-backed wolfhounds you'd see around the docks.
But it wasn't a dog.
It crouched there, neck curved, wings folded, tail coiled on the ground. Scales covered every inch—black as charcoal, red as blood, gray as iron. Those two golden eyes burned like lanterns, staring straight at Limpick.
Limpick stared back.
Man and dragon held the look for a long time.
"Number One?" Limpick tried.
The creature tilted its head.
Exactly the same way the old rat used to.
Limpick laughed. Halfway through, his throat closed up and the laugh died. He just sat there, mouth open, face stuck somewhere between crying and laughing.
"You fucking…" His voice came out rough as sandpaper. "You fucking scared the hell out of me."
Number One stayed still, head still tilted, watching him.
The flames in those golden eyes had gone quiet now, burning steady like two small lamps. Looking at them, Limpick realized they weren't all that different from the old red ones. Same look. Same way it watched him. Just like the first day it crawled out from under the wall and sat at his door.
He reached out and rubbed its head.
No fur anymore—just smooth, hard, cool scales, like polished metal. But Number One pressed its head into his palm, exactly the way the little rat used to.
Limpick left his hand there.
A low rumble came from Number One's throat, like a cat purring. It rested its head on Limpick's knee, eyes closed, purring steady.
Limpick looked down.
A dragon the size of a dog, head on his knee, purring like a damn house cat.
He suddenly realized how insane the whole thing was.
Seven days ago he was hauling cargo at the Riverrun docks for two copper coins. Seven days ago this dragon was a palm-sized gray rat he'd almost stepped to death.
Now?
He was sitting deep underground in Harrenhal with a dragon's head on his knee and a dragon skeleton sucked dry of light in front of him.
"Come on," he said, patting Number One's head. "Let's head up. My bones are starting to ache down here."
Number One opened its eyes, gave him a look, and slowly stood.
When it stood, Limpick finally saw how big it really was. Four legs planted solid, back coming up to his waist, head level with his chest. The tail trailed behind, coiled twice with the rest disappearing into the dark.
Limpick stepped back and looked it over.
"Looks like a black dog," he said. "Just uglier."
Number One hissed, blowing a hot puff of air straight into his face.
"Alright, alright," Limpick wiped his face, grinning. "Handsome. Very handsome. Better?"
Number One turned its head away and flicked its tail once. It cracked against the cavern wall with a loud smack, knocking loose a chunk of stone.
Limpick stared at the broken piece.
He walked over and checked the mark. Where the tail had hit, the stone was cracked deep, edges scorched black—not just smashed, burned.
He glanced at the tip of Number One's tail. Those scales were darker and shinier, with something faintly moving inside.
"You can breathe fire now?" Limpick asked.
Number One opened its mouth. Its throat rumbled a few times and a small puff of smoke came out.
Just smoke. No fire.
It tried again. Nothing this time.
Limpick looked at it.
Number One looked back.
"Can't do it yet?" Limpick said. "No rush."
Number One closed its mouth. The glow at the tip of its tail faded back to that dull gray-black.
When they crawled out through the crack, it was already broad daylight. Sunlight poured through the half-collapsed roof of the main hall and hit Number One. The black, red, and gray scales gleamed like a full suit of armor.