Joy Pursuit: Steel Dragon [Sci-Fi Fantasy | Horror | Action]

Savagrios felt a bead of sweat trail down his brow. His dignified resolve had melted into ragged panting as he slumped over beneath the massive shadow of the titan's hand. His left eye twitched.

"Why the hell did they pick a place like this?! The entrance is freaking aeons away! WHAT THE HELL!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the skeletal cliffs of moss-eaten bone that climbed all the way up into the dead titan's wrist. He stood there for a minute, hands on his knees, glaring up at the gigantic hand like it owed him an apology. The only response was the whisper of wind through cracks in the bone.

Savagrios resumed his journey, as he reached a cobblestone road. Around him, a few rustic buildings stood nearby, their doors ajar, curtains faintly swaying in the heatless breeze. A toppled chair. A half-drunk cup of something on a table. Everything looked lived in, yet no one was there. It felt like the world was holding its breath, just seconds away from people emerging from all around.

Savagrios rubbed the back of his neck. "Foreboding…" he muttered, walking closer and closer to the base of the titan's arm.

It didn't take long before he reached a large rustic wooden door built into the base of the giant hand. The frame was ornate—decorated with Euclidean shapes.

"How… unique?" he said under his breath as he pushed the tall, strange door.

Inside, the air was stale and cool. Photo frames lined the large corridor—images of people, animals, forests, cities—but each one was off. Faces blurred, proportions simplified to a dreamy degree. With his chest held high, but his neck at a weird 90-degree angle, Savagrios scanned the photos confused as he proceeded deeper into the structure.

He moved on, poking through desks, peering behind doors, and awkwardly perching on strange furniture that looked comfortable but wasn't. He moved through rooms and lobbies until he found himself inside a cavernous chamber. Savagrios froze. A row of tall, wood-framed elevators stood along the far wall—ornate, gilded, and silent.

Savagrios stepped forward and pressed his hand against the furthest switch. A number flickered to life on the display above the door: 241. 240. 239. The count crept downward, one second at a time.

"Ugh… Are you for real?" Savagrios, looked down the line of elevators and ran with a smirk he dragged his hand along all the buttons. His proud eyes scanned the displays looking for the elevator closest.

232, 231… The first elevator he'd chosen was the closest. "COME ON!" His voice boomed through the empty room. "Whose dumbass memory even is this? Why does everything take forever to do in here?!" Muttering curses under his breath, he flopped onto a curvy sofa, legs spread, shoulders slouched. His crimson eyes wandered up to the chandelier's cold glittering lights.

Time seemed to crawl. The stillness of the structure pressed in around him—silent, controlled. The air hummed with the faint mechanical rhythm of a ventilation system.

He stared at the numbers slowly decreasing. 47… 46… 45…

"Vire…"

A whisper hissed.

Savagrios bolted upright, head snapping in every direction. "H-hello? Who—who goes there?" he shouted, his skin pulling taut as he looked around frantically.

But there was only faint creaking and the sound of the ventilation system. He narrowed his eyes, searching for Kyyr, but the only faint sign was coming from high above. "That must be K, Ezzeks… and that strange woman…" he murmured. "So then… that voice—"

Ding.

Savagrios didn't linger—he booked into the elevator. Crashing inside as he hit the button that led to the highest floor.

Just beyond the elevator doors, a surge of wind bellowed through the halls, its wail twisting into an eerie whimper that echoed from somewhere deep within the structure.

"Come on!" Savagrios hissed, jabbing the close button again and again. The elevator doors groaned, sluggish, as the whimper outside swelled into a monstrous wail—a hundred overlapping voices screamed, begged, their incoherent words melding into a single phrase.

"Mercy please…"

The door's shut tight, the elevator shuddering as it began its slow climb up the titan's wrist.

Savagrios stood motionless, eyes locked on the seam of the doors. His throat was tight. Something hot rolled down his cheek. "Huh?" He blinked, wiping it away. "Wh-why?"More tears followed. They didn't stop. His breathing hitched, confusion spilling into his voice as he pressed his palm against his face. "What the hell…? Why—why are we crying?"

The elevator continued to rise, tears spilling endlessly from his eyes. He wept in utter confusion, the sobs coming unbidden, impossible to stop.When the doors finally opened with a hollow chime, Savagrios stumbled forward, half-blind with tears. He found himself in a vast chamber—its walls curved, glass windows stretching along both sides. Euclidean symbols covered the floor and ceiling. Light poured in from beyond the glass. Through the haze of his tears, he staggered toward it, blinking against the brightness.

The world outside flickered—one moment calm, then his vision warped as everything around him was lit ablaze. The air filled with the sound of horrified screaming.

"What… what is this?" he rasped, staggering back.

The blue sky had turned a sinister gray-black, muddied with billowing smoke and fire, and far above, splitting the darkness, was a fiery comet that tore through the heavens—a crimson wound across the firmament. From that wound fell a red flame, its embers burning as bright as an equinox sunrise. Out of the firelight descended a massive, black-scaled figure.

Wreathed in flame, the beast crashed into the town with the weight of a mountain. The explosion shook the ground, the titan's fingers collapsing, windows shattering as fire rolled through the streets. Through the smoke rose a shadow—colossal, four-armed, and wingless. Scales black as night. Around its neck, a crown of crimson spikes glinted in the inferno's light.

A Dragon.

It let out a deep, rumbling groan so loud Savagrios felt his eardrums rupture. Then came the silence—painful, suffocating. His bones rattled from the pressure of an unheard roar as the dragon's jaw split wide, releasing a plume of flame that swept across the town. Dragonfire consumed everything: screaming voices, melting streets, collapsing towers—absolute annihilation.

It swung its neck, flames pouring from its throat, massive arms smashing the rubble to ash.

The Dragon clamped its jaws shut, smoke curling from its overlapping teeth. Its crimson gaze fell upon Savagrios. The two locked eyes, the flames and smoke parting as it lowered its head, and there he saw a familiar vision. The fell dragon blinked. A translucent membrane slid across its eye, clearing the smoke as its single, slit pupil studied the paralyzed Savagrios.

Savagrios blinked.

The tears had stopped.

The pain had subsided.

He opened his eyes—and found himself staring at someone, no one, a small figure that collapsed to their knees as his body surged through the rising smoke, jaws spreading wide open.

No—NO! Savagrios felt his jaws open, smoke rising. He fought against his body, but it was impossible. Horror filled him as the jaws slammed onto—

He blinked.

It was over.

He stood there, motionless, in the middle of a quiet, picturesque village. The world was still. Frozen before…

Savagrios raised a trembling hand to his mouth. "Why did I…?" he whispered.

He looked around the desolate village. Everything was calm—waiting. A soft breeze drifted through the empty street, brushing gently against his tear-stained face. It was stale.

He stood there for a while struggling to process what he'd witnessed.

A memory. That dragon… His heart began to palpitate, the thrumming beat growing louder as he faced the quaint village. It…he felt a fierce warmth spread through his body. That was..

"Savagrios?" Ezzeks suddenly shouted from a quaint little terrace draped in hanging flowers. "Was that you?"

Savagrios looked at him with a borderline shellshocked expression. "Huh?"

"The Draconic Kyyr—was that you?" Ezzeks leaned over the railing, his eyes widening at the mortified look on Savagrios's face. "Oh shit, are you good? Did something happen outside? Is Gira okay?!"

Savagrios's mouth hung open, as he struggled to find the words. "W-we… A lot, uh—Gira is fine. We're fine."

"Huh. Well, the door should be unlocked." Ezzeks pointed toward the entrance. "I'll meet you down there in a sec."

Savagrios nodded absently and shuffled toward the door—a beautifully framed wooden one adorned with a wreath of flowers. His hand trembled as he reached for the handle; his palm was slick with sweat, the metal cold against his skin.

TSSSSSSS!

"AGH!"

He jerked back, staring at his hand in shock. Across his reddening skin, two words burned into view.

No Mercy.

The door clattered and opened.

Savagrios's eyes shot up to find Ezzeks standing there, brow furrowed. "What's going on? Why are you sweating so much?" Ezzeks asked, concerned.

"We—were remembering." Savagrios's voice shook as he tried to steady himself. "We…" He looked back at his palm, but there were no burns. ". . ."

Ezzeks looked at the mortified Savagrios. "It was a bad one, huh?"

Savagrios looked up, startled.

Ezzeks offered a small, knowing smile. "It's okay. You're here with us now."

Savagrios gave a shaky nod. "Indeed."

"Come inside. We've been talking about memories, so… don't be shy to share." Ezzeks set a firm hand on the pale Savagrios's shoulder. "Let's go," he said, guiding him into what could only be described as a cozy cottage.

All around were signs of life—half-eaten food on the tables, faucets still running, shoes scattered by the entryway—yet the air was thick with muffled dread. Some kind of intrusive familiarity consumed them as they approached the carpeted stairs.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Unwelcome.

The two climbed a short flight of stairs that opened into a homely and warm, pastel-toned living room. K sat nearby, his teal eyes lazily watching over a woman quietly sketching on a piece of paper.

K noticed them and gave Savagrios a lazy wave. "Sup, Savag—" He stopped mid-word, eyes narrowing. "Were you crying?"

"Ah, well…" Savagrios glanced down, embarrassed

Ezzeks sighed. "Yeah, looks like he remembered something pretty nasty." He turned to Savagrios. "Do you want something to drink? It can be anything, by the way. All the tea here's purely optical—just imagine the temperature and flavor, and that's what it'll taste like."

"Oh, we are rather thirsty… Umm, we shall take you up on the offer," Savagrios replied in a mellow tone.

Ezzeks smiled faintly and crossed the room, opening a cabinet to grab a cup.

Meanwhile, K leaned forward, squinting. "Dude, what happened? Did you regenerate your balls wrong?"

"Hey!" Ezzeks hissed, handing Savagrios the cup of mimetic tea.

"Ha?! Excuse us?!" Savagrios sputtered, eyes wide. "K-K?"

"Yeah, hi." K's grin widened. "Anyways, what's your deal?" He paused, then frowned suddenly. "Wait—are we dying again?"

Savagrios shook his head quickly. "No, no! We're fine…"

The urgency drained from K's face. "Oh, then what's with your face? You get your ass beat or something?"

Ezzeks frowned from the background. "I literally just said he remembered something nasty." (Ignored.)

Savagrios squinted at K. "What happened to your personality? And didn't you have an accent?"

K grinned wide. "Ah. Right. It was a bit." He let out a dry, awkward laugh. "Haha."

"A bit?"

Ezzeks' eye twitched. "According to the little bastard, it's some long joke."

K turned toward Savagrios with a sly smile. "Heh, yup." His tone abruptly shifted as he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. "I daresay, it was rather delightful to ramble on as though I were some hopeless idealist."

Savagrios stared at him, utterly bewildered. "But why?"

"Well… you know, me and Gira share a lot of the same charms," K said with a shrug. "There was too much overlap. Guess I got a little too into character."

"Charms?" Savagrios raised a brow.

Ezzeks gave him a flat look. "Besides having the same face, you're just the more annoying version."

"GASP!" K exclaimed, throwing a hand over his mouth like his lineage had been slandered.

Ezzeks sighed. "Anyway, Savagrios—could you update us on what's happening beyond our throne?"

Savagrios tensed, feeling all eyes in the room shift to him—even the woman had stopped drawing. "Ah… well, we managed to flee the manor on a lowglider. But there were complications." His voice softened. "We fear we may have made a great error. Or rather… two."

K and Ezzeks exchanged uneasy looks. "Flee the manor? Errors?" Ezzeks asked carefully.

Savagrios hesitated, meeting their worried gazes. "The rangers wanted to use a Nomos Scrutineer, and… one thing led to another. We encountered a strange Hollow by the name of Carrion. We're not sure if they're connected, but it would be foolish to ignore the possibility that what we sensed was far beyond its capabilities."

K stared at him, visibly annoyed. "What? What the hell are you saying? You gave us like zero context."

Savagrios looked down at the table, his drink still untouched. " Oh, right. Forgive us… let us start from the beginning."

And so Savagrios retold the events that had unfolded.

By the end, K and Ezzeks were both wide-eyed.

"Wait—the rangers think we're dead?" K blurted.

"Did you kill a ranger?!" Ezzeks shouted at the same time.

Fear flickered in Savagrios's eyes. He hesitated. "Uh, yes and no—well. W-we're not sure the ranger survived."

Ezzeks shot to his feet, slamming a hand on the table so hard the teacups rattled. "Not sure? Are you fucking for real?! Does Gira know?! Are there witnesses?!"

Savagrios shook his head quickly. "No… not yet, at least. The only witnesses were Miss Mera and Aria. But we also doubt the man is dead—his Kyyr spiked as he fell into the darkness. We genuinely doubt he died."

Ezzeks let out a shaky breath and slumped back into his chair. "I can't tell if we're fucked or not…"

K stood and nonchalantly checked his rear "My ass isn't sore, so—"

Ezzeks's eye twitched as he rose from his seat and grabbed K by the head, squeezing hard.

"AGH! Hey! That hurts, you ape-handed son of—AAAAAA!!" K's arms flailed as Ezzeks tightened his grip. "LET GO! LET GO! I'M SORRY!"

Ezzeks reluctantly eased his hold, face dark with thought. "How would the rangers react if we actually killed a human?"

K rubbed his head, one brow raised. "Didn't you spout a bunch of nonsense about fear and blah blah! Shouldn't this increase our infamy, or whatever?"

Ezzeks blushed and folded his arms. "Yeah… but that was different! They were afraid of what we were, not who we were."

K smirked. "So much for your big plan, Mr. Fear," he teased.

Ezzeks's eye twitched again. Without a word, he grabbed K by the head again.

"OWOWOW! STOP—SOME OF MY HAIRS ARE EXPOSED NERVES!" K shrieked as Ezzeks dragged him across the table.

"Anyway," he said flatly, "it seems we'll have to lay low and evade the rangers until we recover." He took a slow sip of his tea before turning back to Savagrios. "There's something you mentioned earlier—when you described that hollow feeling in your memories. It just so happens that K and I reached a revelation regarding that feeling."

Savagrios tilted his head. "A revelation?"

Ezzeks nodded and lifted his cup again. "It seems that our s—"

K suddenly spat out the placemat. "Our souls are scrambled up!" he blurted, cutting him off.

"Ah…" Ezzeks deflated, the wind knocked right out of his sails.

K kept going, wriggling expressively. "Our memories, personalities, and Kyyr are all mixed around for some reason. It made us wonder if—AAAAAH!"

Ezzeks grabbed him by the head again and squeezed until K went limp.

K's smug grin twitched, then faded. "You bastar—bleh."

Ezzeks glared and released the little goblin man, letting him thud against the floor. Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture, regaining that edge of maturity. "After the events of the Parabellum Onryō, there was a huge abyssal attack on the tower we resided on. Gira and I fought through hordes of Abyssal spawn, but with no Kyyr Booster we could only partially transform. We were faced with the likely reality of death. But… a miracle occurred. From some unknown corner of our soul, he arrived—like a roaring dragon."

Ezzeks's gaze drifted as he spoke. "I met a very special man. The real Ezzeks Deried—the Dragon God of Heroes. That idiot came louder than the storm itself and gave us a second chance. But… he was running out of time. He appeared, saved us…" He turned toward the woman who had been quietly drawing. "He saved her, and tried to tell me everything he could before he was gone."

Ezzeks smiled wistfully. "He was loud, abrasive, and used big words for no reason. I didn't know him for long, but after talking to him, I realized something. Even though I shared his memories, I was nothing like him." There was a flicker of sadness in his voice. "But… he did remind me of someone—" He turned, pointing at Savagrios. "Of you."

Savagrios's eyes widened. "Us?"

Ezzeks nodded. "Not to mention, the original Ezzeks wasn't a Coarseblood. But look at me…"He let out a miserable laugh, raising a hand covered in ivory scales. "We've been trying to figure out what really makes us… well us. Not to mention who's switched what with who."

K rose from the ground. "Fun fact, Savagrios—I have a ton of your memories."

"You do?" Savagrios asked. "How do you know?"

"I checked my wallet," K said, producing a really ugly wallet with red lightning bolts and goofy stickers. "Look here."He flipped it open, revealing an ID photo of a very unimpressed Savagrios. "See? I'm pretty sure you're Vire O. Virelli. Says so right here."

"Oh." Savagrios's eyes widened as he took the wallet, scanning the ID. Vire. O. Virelli. He studied the photo for a long moment. "That's… me."

K's face suddenly lit up. "Aha! You broke your weird we thing! Did you hear that, Berserzekks?" he crowed.

Ezzeks placed a hand on K's head. "Don't call me that."

K went pale. "Forgive me, your Ezzekness."

Ezzeks strangled K.

Meanwhile, Savagrios had gone nearly as crimson as his own scales. "Ah—ah! We meant US!"

Ezzeks sighed and loosened his grip on K. "Actually," he said, glancing back at Savagrios, "now that you mention it—why do you talk like that?"

"Oh—well, you know… b-because there's two of me, I guess…" Savagrios mumbled.

"Oh, you can still talk like before. I don't mind." Ezzeks offered a small, reassuring smile.

Meanwhile, K struggled to hold back a laugh—but went silent the instant he felt a hand press down on his head. "Eh, we're sorry…" he muttered, deflating.

Savagrios drew a shaky breath. "M-maybe I should stop…" he whispered, his voice sinking with defeat.

Ezzeks quickly raised his hands. "No, no—it's fine. You can keep doing that. I was just curious."

Savagrios's pompous nature had been drained by the night's events, with this seemingly being the nail in the coffin. "I—we…" He shook his head and handed the wallet back to K. "Whatever… So what does this mixing of mind, body, and soul mean for us? And what about the other Giras within our throne? Not to mention that woman. Wait—who even is she? Is she another Gira or…?"

Ezzeks sighed, grabbed K by the scruff of his neck like an unruly cat, and tossed him back into his seat. "Go on… do your thing."

K scrambled upright and clicked his tongue. Tsk.

Ezzeks's left eye twitched. "Tsk?"

K froze, slapped with real bloodlust radiating off Ezzeks. "I'll talk! Sheesh…" He cleared his throat. "Well, this is Alia. She's from a faraway planet called Efautros-3. She can write and draw, but doesn't like to talk. She was born on the first of September in the year 4017 of the Mercier calendar—which means absolutely nothing to us, because we don't even know the current date on this crappy little planet. Plus, we're not tied to the Translates, so who knows how long it's actually been."

He gave a nervous laugh, his voice speeding up. "She also, uh… kind of used to be one of the Abyssal that kicked Ezzeks's ass. B-but she's all good now!" K hovered awkwardly beside her, grinning like a nervous salesman trying to close a deal.

Ezzeks groaned. "You mentioned the abyssal part earlier, but she looks normal." He shook his head. "But that's beside the point—how did she get in here in the first place? You've been dodging that question for a while now and you're starting to piss me off."

K immediately covered his head. "Violence is bad!"

While the two bickered, Savagrios studied the quiet woman. She's an Abyssal? His gaze drifted toward the piece of paper in front of her. "What's she drawing?"

K struggled to respond as fought to defend himself from Ezzeks' crushing grip. "The Cause."

Ezzeks loosened his grip. "The cause? Or The Cause?"

"Big T, big C—The Cause," K clarified quickly. "As in, the source behind the Abyssal infestation on this rock."

Savagrios and Ezzeks exchanged wary glances before sliding closer, hovering over Alia's shoulder.

"What the heck are we looking at?" Savagrios asked.

"It looks like a shitty drawing of a heart." Ezzeks commented.

K glared at him.

"Yeah… Why are the edges so sharp?" Savagrios added, squinting.

K looked at the two, clearly annoyed. "Are you two stupid? It's a soul!"

Savagrios's eyes lit up. "Oh! We remember now! Miss Mera showed us her soul before!"

Ezzeks raised a brow. "I see… so it's a soul. Cool. But how the fuck does that help us?"

K suddenly elbowed him in the stomach.

"Agh… you little…" Ezzeks grumbled, reaching for K but stopping short.

K, for once, had a serious look on his face as he stared at Alia's drawing. "She's getting there… She's a surprisingly stubborn person, especially when it comes to her drawings. The whole reason she's not talking to me is because I was bugging her about the Abyss earlier."

Savagrios studied Alia. Her long, wild black hair framed the dark circles beneath her violet-tinged eyes—eyes that seemed to glow faintly against her ghostly skin. A few small moles dotted her face, subtle but grounding. She reminded him of Xizu, though there was something more mature about her. Maybe it was her silence… or that melancholic gaze that lingered over the black lines of her drawing, tracing them again and again.

Savagrios's brain finally caught up, a morbid realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted, and the urge to vomit forced him to step back, sweat beading along his brow.

"Wait…" he mumbled. "She was an Abyssal, right?"

K nodded. "Yup."

"D-does that mean… all the Abyssals we devoured…" Savagrios covered his mouth, nausea bubbling up his throat.

K's expression darkened. "Yeah. They were alive—and very much aware the entire time. Trapped in their own bodies."

Ezzeks straightened, his tone grave. "It's an unfortunate reality… One I don't think Gira should learn of."

Savagrios slowly nodded. "Indeed…" he whispered, his gaze drifting toward Alia—drawn, almost unwillingly, into her violet eyes.

Human eyes.