The Father of Dragons, Io, roared out in death, the Ruinous Powers laughing as the young plane falls to daemonic corruption.
Earlier, Io had prepared his children, letting them know of the long fight against the encroaching, evil enemy. The head deity faltered but fought on as he explained how the corrupting forces where worming their way into their realm, how his mental prowess against three gods as powerful as him was weakening. The world was too young, too small, and could not resist such forces yet. It took all he had to keep his children from being discovered, both the new gods and the mortal dragons.
He made sure that they escaped as best he could with whoever they could take, the draconic deities not yet as strong as they would grow into. He had seen their future in a world that would never be, how, good or evil, they shaped the world long after dragons would no longer dominate it. He can only hope that they can make that future in a bigger world. Io made sure as he searched through the Astral plane that they'd end up on livable worlds, the growing influence of the warp and his enemies cracking into his mind making it hard to keep them in one group, so he chose as many safe havens as he could.
He was an old deity, the representation of everything about dragons, but his children will bring out the true potential of their subjects further than he ever could on his own. He made sure each had a measure of his love for them as Khorn, Nurgle, and Tzeentz fought him physically as well now, Io giving as much damage as he takes. The old dragon smiled as the warp lightning cackled around him, the ancient and powerful forces trying to rend and consume his soul as they fight. He knew his children would succeed, and these cruel, twisted beings will never realize how much of a head start he gave his children.
Io had seen that this was the timeline where his living live ended, as this is not the one where this world became a wonderland of splendor and horror in equal measure. Though that grin is a very toothy one as he sees his foes are not going to get out unscathed either, his true form latching on to the ones of the three around him.
Even as they make it through to their new universe, the gods can hear the victorious death roar of their father and the flash of energy overwhelming them and the mortal dragons.
No matter how good, evil, or in between they would of ended up, these where young beings who had lost someone who not only created them, but was a part of them, who understood them so fully. Who was like them in all ways, and as equally different in as many with how Io truly was everything. The skies of many worlds in The Galaxy filled with storms at the grief above, the mortal dragons faring much worse as even the oldest of the young and proud species realized what was wrong.
The tears a strong species never expected to shed ended when all heard a voice speak through the world around them, drowning out the warp storms and regular planetary ones as well.
"There was a destiny set for all dragonkind, a world to fill and live out long, amazing lives.
And now that destiny is gone, stolen by an unimaginably ravenous and consuming force.
However, without me or other gods interfering, my children, mortal and immortal, can make your own destinies. Fill a Universe, a world much bigger than our home, with the dragons the Chaos gods underestimated. Grow, evolve, and be whatever you feel you are meant to be. Your father loves all of you, no matter how bright or dark your hearts may grow. And know that as long as you stay yourselves, even those of you with a chaotic nature will never fall to true Chaos."
"And remember, even as you grow and change, your siblings spread across many worlds, you are all dragons, and will be dragons. However much some of you may of hated each other, know that these foes will inspire an even deeper hatred. So I much rather you save the feuding till after you destroy them"
Each dragon, god or not, felt a personal message from Io as the voice faded. Whatever that individual needed to hear the most, the last bit of guidance, warnings, and attention from their creator. This is not a species that would of grown to enjoy being the dominant force of their world yet, but beyond the fear, there is pride and dignity in how accepting Io was of them, of how he not only believed, but knew dragonkind could and would succeed if they tried.
In the future, there is only dragons.
DragonHammer
Tiamat and Bahamut.
The Earth had been united. Dragonkind is no longer at war with itself.
The next stage for Bahamut and Tiamat is to bring unification to the lost dragons across the galaxy.
---
The two sibling deities, widely different in temperament and morality, had grown into staunch allies. The forces of True, Ruinous Chaos, beyond the darkness possible in the hearts of dragons, even in the heart of Tiamat at her most petty, had threatened to destroy the materium just from their gaze alone corrupting mortal beings. The two gods, when newly made, watched the death of their father Io as he sent them and their siblings where sent to safety in a new universe to prevent the extinction of dragonkind.
Bahamut knew his duty to protect all that is good in the universe, and Tiamat realized that if she was alone, she'd be the last to watch the Ruinous Powers destroy anything she wished to rule and be worshiped by before being devoured herself. The two, unknowing of where their other siblings in this galaxy where, where able to work well together even as they divinely clashed in the skies from time to time during heated arguments. The worship of Tiamat shaped her to represent the ambition, pragmatism, and pride dragonkind needed to survive in a very hostile universe that constantly tried to remind them that they where not the apex creatures here. The worship of Bahamut created a god to represent the hope, potential, and kindness dragonkind needed to not regress into petty and mindless animals that would die alone, with no kin and no hoard.
They watched and guided the first few dragons to survive on the Earth, observing and nudging them with direct intervention when needed, while blocking out the first hints of chaos trying to seep in. However different the two where, the young gods felt a shared sense of pride when they saw their creations take off for the stars, spreading ever outward to new worlds and take dragonkind to new heights. They had watched the mortals rise and fall so many times, it felt like they where past that stage finally.
Reality crashed that train of thought when sudden warp storms erupted across the cosmos, the birth of Slaanesh throwing everything into disarray as dragons became isolated on their various worlds. The Earth itself was wracked with daemonic possession, starvation, and a bleak savagery that would startle the most ancient of dragons who remember the destruction and death echoing from the old world that lasted for the first few centuries.
Tiamat and Bahamut knew they had to get involved in the end. Dragons, metallic, chromatic, and in between, needed their protectors. They fought directly and negotiated with mortal dragons, working for decades to reunite the survivors and scattered nations clinging to a half-dead world. They worked tirelessly to bring even a semblance of unity and pride back to their people. Finally, the succeeded in this task.
And then they turned to the solar system, to the dragons on the moon and mars.
The moon having been transformed into an enviable paradise, was inhabited by dragons very attuned to nature, hiding the strong and hidden fortresses the Lunar Dragons used to protect their world from invasion and to protect the hatchlings of this young, psyker species until they would be strong enough to resist the whispers of The Warp. Their dedication to growth and evolution gave birth to Selene and the forest spirits; a dragon diety and her cohorts who represented the core beliefs of the Lunar inhabitants and protected their small, fragile world while guiding evolution free from chaos mutation.
Mars was home to the Dust Dragons, metallic and chromatic dragonkin who used magic and technology to enhance themselves to survive the thin, dusty environment of the red planet. The surface was covered in mechanical life and Machine Spirits inhabiting the mechanical terrain features and automations used by the Dust dragons, they themselves varying between dragon and machine depending on their rank and level of warship of the Omni-drake. A rusty, sparking and mechanical being who represented the unity of life and science, his chest showing a beating, glowing heart protected by crystal circuits. Him and the Machine Spirits represented the necessity of science for staying alive in such a hostile environment, and the forward march of technology over organic life on its lonesome.
These two factions where brought together under the rule of the siblings, using the expertise of both and their respective new deities to spread and advance dragons again.
Though with how big the galaxy was, and with all their divine might, all of these gods realized they could not be everywhere at once, and set to work on beings that did not requite worship to survive, but where still beyond the most capable of mortal champions, clerics, and heroes.
---
All four gods watched the young eggs being guarded by the strongest spirits that could afford to leave their duties. Each the twenty one eggs, eight more being made, each glowed with their own unique colors, tints, and shades, showing off the developing shapes inside. Each is monitered carefully by Scienties, Lunar Shapers, Rust Priest, and the gods themselves.
The Four had talked, planned, and worked at length to create beings that represented the best of both them and dragonkind, having the strength of demigods, while not needing to worry about worshipers. These Prime-Dragons where to help unify a galaxy of dragons in need.
Everything light, dark, and grey that made dragons wonderfully mortal was thrown in, but not quite mortal or god. Each of the four having added their essence to them.
Though as the eggs matured under the watchful care of hundreds of creators and guardians, CHAOS intervened, a divine battle where the gods where too distracted keeping the Material Plane secured from ruinous taint erupted. The eggs where pulled through The Warp to the despair of all those involved in the project. Mortal Dragons collapsed in both sadness and humiliation, pride broken at the loss of these young, future leaders and a shining example of how all involved would be remembered by others, but they where also filled with the grief at was basically the loss of their children they believed in.
However, the gods brought spirits back up, if not to what it was before, but enough to fill them all with hope. They could still feel the souls of the unhatched dragons, sent across the galaxy, waiting to be retrieved.
The four deities realized Chaos had sent the eggs safely and untainted to other worlds because of how many centuries of work and resources went into them. That they could not start over with the galaxy needing their help soon. That such important beings would each have to be retrieved individually, and would have to learn to work together from growing up on very different worlds from each other, unlike if they had grown up on Earth.
The only ones in the lab still were the unfinished ones still being developed and grown in their vats, and they still had the info and essence used to create the Prime-Dragons in the first place.
They'd have to work with these eight here and be even more stringent in safety, find their lost children among the stars, and create something with the essence they have while being delayed and lacking time to create more super-dragons.
A compromise, the 21 different essence batches would be used to enhance worthy dragons to a tenth of a Prime-Dragon's level, an army in place of a leader, to guide dragons and be a force for their progenitors.
As progress continued, the eggs landed on their worlds over the months and years latter on, and hatched...
---
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Info:
Basically, a young Bahamut and Tiamat, being themselves to a degree still, never got to become antagonistic to one another due to seeing their world and father, Io, die protecting them and the survivors of dragonkind from big "c" Chaos, and go from strange bedfellows to practical and reasonable allies in a universe that would destroy both of them.
Worship of primitive dragons shaped them a little differently than how dnd would of, but they are basically very similar to their portrayals, if noticeably leaning to a few shades of grey.
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Prologue/informational Part 2: Where are they Now? 2 - Sardior, Hlal, and Astilabor.
On another planet, a few of the other surviving dragon deities managed to end up on a world much better hidden in the galaxy, though all three deities could feel the forces of Chaos threatening to find them at any moment. Hlal, a being who is a very natural prankster by her nature, was very happy to set up some distractions to both prevent discovery and slow the spread of chaos across the galaxy. Memetic traps and messages are sent to act like the natural background noise of The Warp, masking the presence of this star system and the survivors there rather well. Hlal had many laughs as many daemons or the Chaos gods themselves would float past what would normally be the presence of souls in The Warp, only to see what accounts for The Warp's equivalent of spam or junkmail. However Astilabor and Sardior, as amused as they where, did not find it so funny that they where that close to discovery at times.
--- Khorn roard in anger, or what should be anger anger because of something increasing the rage. Nurgle just sighed and rolled his eyes, and Tzeentch just laughed at the other two.
Countless dead civilizations sometimes left annoying echoes in The Warp, and the current message was no different. As if any chaos god would fall for that message! So they floated by over the centuries, ignoring the presence that said:
Young, Innocent Souls in your area of The Warp! Peak here and learn more!
Yes indeed, no god would fall for flashing lights and images of a young, enticing race with deep souls there for the taking and corrupting because of a broken machine spirit trying targeted advertising now that its makers are gone. It would take millennia to clean out the memetic hazards from their being!---
With the forces of chaos kept from even seeing them and their subjects, the gods work on staying alive and keeping their followers in the same state.
The planet, named The Jewelbox, is a world of plateaus, crags, rivers, and seas, had an eternally jet-black sky, always showing the stairs even during the daytime under its white sun. A large planet that manages to give a cozy atmosphere to the surviving dragons due to the many countless, gem-filled caves and hiding places in the canyon walls, and enough space above to build monuments to their pride, wealth, and knowledge. The creatures native to hear tended to be clear and halfway between glass and watter. Many had long, spindly limbs, fast gaits, and sharp blades to slash and shoot at their enemies, able to slice into even the scales of dragons with ease, and of course those wings would fair much worse. Dragons soon learned to think and be more cautious, more prone to wear armor than before. Gem dragons fared rather well with how naturally paranoid many of them naturally are.
Astilabor, still THE Hoarder, had learned rather quickly that while her and her followers could remain neutral, she could not just go with her original plan to do nothing but amass treasure and admire the dragons that do the same, like she hoped she could in their young home plane before it was corrupted and they had to leave. She felt how the ruinous powers would destroy all she had amassed over her first few centuries of existence. How they's corrupt dragons with things even worse than the pure and immature greed she had despised in Tiamat, as opposed to working harder for more wealth and treasure for the sake of it. The Chaos gods would warp dragons into abominable effigies that would not hoard for the sake of hoarding like she instilled in them to do, the thing that made dragons what they where, to her at least.
She had looked over her temples and the wealth within, encouraging even more advanced fortifications than ever, worked into powerful citadels that showed the two qualities Astilabor espoused, power and wealth, in equal measure. Inside their walls, homes and businesses popped up, generating wealth and encouraging trade with the followers of the other two deities. And at the center of the fortress, was the temple, where when it came time to worship, the faithful would lend valuable items for sermons and worship, never giving anything permanently as that would go against amassing wealth. It was still a rather amazing display of how, even on this alien world, they where still rich and strong.
Sardior, the patron deity of gem dragons, was only somewhat changed compared to Astilabor. He still was a happy deity eager to talk and share information, and to give out psionic gifts and abilities very eagerly. He and the other psions had to learn how to hide their presence in The Warp more so than other dragons. Though with him and Hlal collaborating, they where able to relax The Warp around them, the local star systems calmed in their sector of space, as if it was a calmer part of the Astral Plane or the Realm of souls itself. It made being a psyker much easier than for races elsewhere.
He still did not personally ask for much from his followers, and did not try that hard to guide them, only interfering if Chaos could slip through.
Gem dragons still admired and tried to be like him, some learning to not be so paranoid in order to survive on this different world, though it never truly left the species of gem dragon that where inherently paranoid and suspicious. His ruby-red castle still orbited in the sky, having saved it before fleeing. It passed over the world as a beacon of knowledge. His gem-encrusted temples where built into caves big enough for many dragons to learn, while others where connected to the towns above, where those in need of knowledge visit and pay for the deep wisdom of his clerics. They also provided the vital service of protecting young or generally new psykers and teaching them to safely wield their powers.
Hlal remained her playful, mischievous self, always grinning as she kept up her roll of being a messenger and prankster both. She was the one who confused chaos and kept them guessing as she navigated The Warp, encouraging those who felt the same way to cause enough small "c" chaos to keep such a boring world from stagnating and becoming uncreative. Her presence encouraged dragons to keep believing in themselves, to be innovative and more than the sets of byzantine rules draconic society enforces on itself. She kept the old world alive through her stories, the oldest of dragons staying vibrant and more lively when they bring up the past and all they had experienced.
While Sardior was mostly amused and often had long conversations with Hlal, Astilabor disliked the "chaotic" nature of the other dragon god, admiring how much wisdom they had stored, but having a mistrust of such an unpredictable being who'd do "little" pranks like switching a gem in one dragon's hoard with an identical one in another's, the dragons of course either getting into fights that had to be broken up and sorted out, or two dragons awkwardly going about the planet looking for a single gem trying not to draw attention to what as happened once they figure out who did it out of embarrassment. Sardior often is an intermediary between the two, often having to find something the two can talk about, such as getting Hlal to listen to Astilabor talk about one of her treasures and the story behind it, or
Though because of her nature, being so chaotic may be what has kept Hlal form calling to the Ruinous Powers in the first place, blending in so well with the unpredictable background. Her hate for tyrants of any king and the loathing for such unnecessary cruelty have kept her uncorrupted, her very being keeping the taint of The Warp from infecting basic ideas as the dragons of this world spread to nearby systems.
This area of the galaxy has seen something unique; not quite a fight between good an evil, but a love/hate relationship between order and chaos, both needing and conflicting with each other to stay strong and ready for when True Chaos finds them.
---
this story is very rough so far, but I will work on it. It is all being written as I think it up.
For these three, it was intersting to just type and realize there was a dynamic and conflict here that did not have to be between good and evil, but between order and small "c" chaos. That feels unique, and I hope my writing gets better to express it in a more readable way.
The beliefs of the dragons on this world, metallic, chromatic, and gem, have shaped the three gods but kept them who they where, just like Bahamut and Tiamat. Basically, the dragon gods where on a young world, being young themselves under their father Io, and not quite the realm travelers like in dnd. this new environment has shaped them up a little differently than what they would been, but are still themselves, if noticeably different.
Hlal: A trickser similar but much nicer to the Eldar Laughing god, a "Chaotic" deity that both does the unexpected but also protects in a way walls never will. The one who keeps free thought truly free.
Astilabor: She has become a guardian deity, the link between wealth and power growing ever stronger, and has gained a domain over fortresses, strength, and defense. She still will occasionally gift those who amass an amazing hoard, but now admires martial, magical, and psionic strength much more than before. She still has a dislike of pure, mindless greed, though.
Sardior: Still a very neutral, jovial deity who surprises everyone with his sharp-wit and gets along well with Hlal and her live and let-live attitude, even if he is not as proactive. He still values not messing with the lives of others or being bathed in offerings like other gods, but he is even more willing than before to protect psykers and magic-users from the darker things out there, still a god that loves giving out gifts and powers, but also enjoys being a teacher.
Prime-dragon chapter 1/ dragon #1: The Guardian and the Firstborn.
note: if there is going to be too long but helpful in understanding something , I will put it in spoilers for those interested. Though if you want more show, not tell or are just tired, feel free to move on.
Prime Dragons
The First, part 1
My Father is a Machine Spirit
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The slumbering egg dreams on, protected and guided to another solar system after its long trip through the warp. The unhatched champion of dragonkind floats in real space above a foreign world below. A world with a much thicker atmosphere than Earth's. Gigantic landmasses and bodies of water shimmer and ripple under the thick air, at least a full quarter thicker than Earth's. A lush, lively world of greens, whites, and yellows in the light of two stars. Spread among the water and land are black, shiny pools across the surface.
Glistening in orbit, the container's A.I. computer determines what he should do. His quick processing and data analysis as it scans the system reveals a lot about this planet;
It is a highly humid and wet world, larger in size than Earth(it would take one and a quarter Earths to fill it up if it was hollow), and noticeably stronger gravitational pull(an extra fifteen pounds for everyone one hundred at sea level, a lot for dragons weighing tons).
The planet is one of three Trojan co-orbitals, a gas giant and another terrestrial world. Just like Saturn's Trojan moons, one is head, one is behind, and the other is in between. Even Earth has Trojan asteroids, and Jupiter has two whole asteroid fields of them, being the name origin for the asteroid groups and the object classification. It is a stable orbit where they will stay in place and not crash into each other.
It is a rather unique arrangement with planets like this, made more so as it was kept warm by the spectroscopic binary at the center of the system even if the planet is rather far away from them, the extra light and thick atmosphere keep it tropical.
This planet has two moons, a Mars-massed primary/ circumbinary planet and a Pluto-mass secondary figure-eighting between them. The two worlds stay at the same place in the sky and keep the tides bulging at each other in one constant direction, while the small interloper is the one causing wobbles between them to produce an actual effect.
The planet is estimated 10%-20% carbon, 40%-50% silicone/oxygen, 30% Iron, 10% magnesium, and many elements in higher or lower proportions than Earth. Such diverse material is strange but not unheard of. Though this world has features common to carbon-based planets, such as giant tar lakes, cliffs of diamond, and graphite badlands, along with more Earth-like terrain.
Most carbon dioxide is trapped in the ultra porous rocks and water, with high concentrations in the air. It is not an issue for a dragon such as the one I am watching, but the free oxygen and thick air make flight in high gravity much easier.
It is a low magic system with minimal warp contamination, and scans for life signs show dragonoids below. Technology is most likely feral at best, given the small-scale energy output and migratory pattern calculations.
Due to the calculated presence of large predators from a thicker atmosphere, massive tar seeps, and a very unpredictable landscape, a tentative deathworld rating will be given, while forest/ feral world is confirmed at 80% confidence.
It is not quite a Super Earth, not quite and Earth Analogue. It only has a few arid regions at high elevations, as the shallow seas are from overly saturated and porous dirt with how wet the world is, water competing with lakes and seas of their tar-based counterparts . Even as the sensors read dragon-life below, it is a very alien world, and life would be very different than on a more civilized world.
The A.I. would prefer to keep his charge in stasis and in orbit, waiting for the gods to find them. Though with how the divine seals against daemonic possession where weakened by the trip, it might be better to raise the dragonling to think for itself, as opposed to corruption leaking in and taking them before they are born. The chaotic nature of debris in orbit, such as the micro-meteoroid field, and remnants of spacecraft from when this planet was more advanced; filled with anything from predictable fragments to hostile and chaos-touched A.I. at his level, made the planet that lacked all of this a safer and predictable bet. The thick atmosphere made sure all the small, unguided pieces of a bygone era burned up on re-rentry, and a pod made to house one of the saviors of Dragonkind is most certainly going to make it safely down with a living Prime-Dragon. His programming emphasizes that clearly.
Yes, he could very well wait and keep the young thing sleeping in the dreams of the unborn and mercifully unaware of the world outside, and it is very likely the gods know where they are and would definitely come. The A.I. would do whatever it took to keep the egg and its occupant safe, even at the cost of the machine spirit's own existence.
However, if he is not there, there was a dramatically higher chance of something happening to the one reliant on him, and he'd fail them, the Omni-Dragon, the spirits and researchers, and himself if that happened. The last measure, a mercy-killing, would be the destruction of both itself and the egg, to keep them from being devoured or corrupted, was going to stay a last measure.
The gods believed in him and what he was made to care for. The experience of living here will be needed as the gods planned to hatch them relatively soon anyway. Developing agency, a strong will, and getting to unite the various populations on this planet is what the Prime-Dragon will have to do in the future on other worlds. The bandage might as well be ripped off in now, while he is still there to advise the them.
He takes as much time needed to finish two equatorial and meridian orbits each to calculate where to land. The magic and science work in unison to help him de-orbit in a controlled burn, closer to the northern latitudes and to the driest locales. And that happens to be what passes for a semi-arid mesa on this wet world, still managing a river system and thick plant life. There is even dry soil here and there being detected as the approach is made.
He is able to break against the atmosphere with hard-light, creating more surface area as the flames from entering the atmosphere flair up around the tank and egg as that gigantic horizon line fills the bottom of the A.I.'s vision. The sky turns a strawberry blond with green and yellow streaks as the stars slowly disappear into the daytime sky, the computer systems trying to slow down and distribute the air breaking around the device. It handles and stabilizes the contents, keeping them undisturbed by the rocking and g-force as they descend, taking longer than it would on most worlds for the flames of friction to die down.
Soon, it is a slow descent above tree level, native fliers having left the sky empty due to the craft's disturbance of the air. The violet and blue plantlife is blown and ruffled by the displaced, dense air, and the rustling echoes as a soft landing is made on orange soil. four legs pop out to stabilize the tank as it touches down, dirt sent flying. The A.I readjust the shields and makes a very detailed observation of the world now that he is close up.
From the orbit, entry, and landing, he can infer that there are many numerous but small population clusters, either on the move or settled, and that a more advanced one is nearby. And of course, the solitary dragon population outnumbers communal ones like on most worlds.
Many beings on the surface would of seen the streak before it went out, but the A.I can hide him and the egg if he does not wish to be discovered yet, if at all. Though magic would eventually reveal their presence, a plan will of been made.
But for now, he slowly prepares to disengage the stasis runes after determining it is safe to do so, the panels folding to reveal the shiny, golden egg waking up, slowly rocking, then speeding up as it is brought back into the flow of real-time. It has a wonderfully rich luster, looking like a bucket of molten gold was emptied into a mold. The seals are decorative as much as they are functional, just like the computers and monitors are added respectfully. This is a projects by dragons that are naturally proud after all, and by gods that all have that concept engrained into them. Nothing was done to compromise the beauty if it could be helped, and needed ones gracefully float away into storage.
A computer band going from top to bottom shows a blue screen with the holographic seals turning off, and the egg lets loose jet of steam as pressure is vented. pieces fold to the sides, not cracking like a normal egg, behaving much more like metal than eggshell. A small face poking around with paws denting the side, the outline of a small nose instinctively pushes out with echoing sounds of a curious and new dragonling. Such a potential and large powerhouse needed a stronger shell for growing and to challenge them like any young creature born in an eggshell.
It pushes and pushes with the struggle of new life, needed the fight to strengthen those already impressive lungs and powerful muscles. The hatchling must be given a chance to do this on its own, help only going to be given if they absolutely cannot do it. The will to live must be grabbed on its own, but if something is wrong and they truly could not open the egg for some reason. Since not only would it be unnecessarily cruel to abandon something trying so hard, but they are too important to leave like that. And it is not like at this point, with years of monitoring, that they'd be too unhealthy to let hatch.
There is also the fact that the A.I. cares about the being inside on a personal level.
Luckily, they are a strong and spirited young dragon, rocking their little home harder and harder as it feels the gold tear under its pushing, a gold leaf peels down the side with a yellow/red male lays on it, gasping and receiving the air filtered inside the tank as it lays on the silver-colored inner lining, a strong defensive layer that was grown first. The hatchling is covered in a spiral pattern of lemony yellow and strawberry red scales with the twist starting at the nose, most likely to grow int more vibrant and mature adult colors with age, two small horn buds rest above those eye ridges, not yet revealed as two intense, gold and ruby eyes blink with catlike pupils.
The newly hatched dragon catches his breath quickly though, and his caretaker can safely re-arrange itself into a more dragon-like shape now. He is a machine spirit- after all, and has to fill a guardian roll while they are still young, even if the young one will be bigger than him soon. But for now, he increases in size as seals are broken, into a shiny, broad-chested machine dragon. Broad-chested as for while the Prime-Dragon is small, it will be best to watch and monitor them in a safe environment, literally kept close to his heart. When the time comes, probably in a day and a half, his chest will open like a door and let them walk and fly beside him.
He makes contact with them with a soft, thrumming voice as a scroll is written to magic up food.
"I welcome you to the universe, my young charge. You are the children of gods and dragons, but for now, I am honored to be your caretaker."
His glowing blue eyes meet theirs as he looks in through his transparent chest, and his smiling metal snout meets a bright, tiny one through the metal.
End of Part 1
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Notes before part 2.
This is going to take some editing. And sorry for all the space jargon, you just hardly ever see Trojan System in Sci-Fi.
I figure that with divine intervention, A.I. would be much harder to corrupt to chaos, and that the gods would plan for whatever they could think of. Incorporating a Machine Spirit A.I. makes sure that if anything where to leave the Prime-Dragons isolated, there would be a sleepless, hungerless, and diligent mentor and parent to watch over them. With the help of the Omni-Dragon and his priest, it would be easy to find volunteers both eager to assist and to keep a secret. They where given very advanced hardware to move into, and many tools the creative A.I would need.
They are not naturally gifted with divination, but can calculate basic actions. Here, it could of waited to be found, but knew that the chances of the protective magic weakening and the dangers of space where outweighed by a livable environment to better prepare his young dragon.
But since it is still an alien planet, and data needs to be gathered on a type of dragon that has never been seen, they are sort of like sea-horses, with their equivalent of a "pouch" in their chest when they are in dragon form, to insure that they are kept untainted at their most vulnerable. It is not meant to be for longer than needed, and is sort of like how babies stay in their hospitals after birth before they go home.
And if the colors seem strange, as they grow older and get strong, the patterns will blend and not be so straight-lined. They are a mix of the best of dragonkind and the gods themselves, so there are going to be many peculiarities to each.
Prime-dragon chapter 2/ dragon #1: Nature vs Nurture.
The guardian A.I., choosing the name Rasalhague for himself to help with socializing the youngling, navigates the dangerous world easily. The A.I. was able to passively monitor and care for the hatchling while his active mind was working on getting to a more defensible position on the planet, one that was not reachable from orbit. There was a limit to patterning and predicting the movements of life, but the smell and sound of a mechanical being kept many of the more dangerous animals away for the moment. Though he is sure many of them would get over that soon, and he is glad that his charge may not need them soon with how limited he personally is and would be able to deal with most problems should anything happen to the watcher himself.
The divine project currently in the shape of a tiny hatchling is curious and playful, the little games and toys manufactured design to measure responses and ability showing a mental growth rate outpacing the already astounding physical one, and the machine spirit realizes that if their was not so much outside for them to watch and learn from as well, a lot of their potential would of been wasted in stagnation. Yes, there is plenty for them to read in there and absorb knowledge-wise, but they have inherited that red dragon need for combat stimulation, all while looking on calmly with a metallic dragon's patience as the guardian demoralizes a pack of dragon-hunting lizards.
They had blended in well with the black/indigo/blue foliage, and Rasalhague was forced to fight while being flanked by ultra dense and heavy figures latching onto his metallic limbs. His files on anthropology and biology lets him realize these things had adapted to hunting the dragons descended from the colonist over many millennia, having honed their stealth skills to the point that even elderwyrms would have trouble spotting them, and apparently spiritual beings are no exception. At least they are not immune to being flung an smashed into trees and rocks.
Rasalhague is a pragmatic and conservative combatant, calculating how to end the fight as fast as possible and keep moving. Death of the predators is acceptable, but the attraction of more dangerous predators is not, and life here is well adapted to heat and radiation, and most likely these creatures are used to fire damage from such a high concentration of explosive hydrocarbons. Meaning his ion-breath is ready but only slightly behind letting the two dozen muscle-bound scalies feel the wrath of an A.I. made to be as protective as any mother would be, that it is not the metal dragon that is trapped with them, but that they are trapped with him.
His first action was to swing his left front leg, that bitey and annoying assailant slamming into a tree, cracking the black wood and probably a few bones, the first attacker yelping and letting go fast. A tenth of a second latter, Rasalhague is rolling to the right over the reptile on his right foreleg, a mechanical flop onto that exposed back leads to a shoulder fracture and a loud whine as the second one struggles and speeds off after the first. Of course, two healthy ones jump at his neck and at his chest to try and get at the hatchcling they probably smell inside, but obviously do not know what a force-field is and that trying to bite into a Machine Spirit Frame leads to a zap of esoteric electricity.
Since this is NOT a generic space opera where all predators fight to the death, cautious predatorial nature makes most of them back off or falter in their charge, reconsidering just like anything with the ability to re-assess risk. Or it could be the parent of the group, three times bigger than the previous lizard-brutes, who had grabbed that robo-tail with their jaws and slammed the metal dragon into the ground, causing him to make electronic grunts of psudo-pain and setting his defense algorithms to keeping the hatchling inside from feeling any of it.
Yes, it is the ground that ends up more damaged than him as the resulting crater kicks up the black, dried tar sand under the soil. But the experienced hunter, probably centuries old, knows what it is doing as it prevents any retaliation by changing up its tactics. It slams its many tons of weight into Rasalhague, gigantic jaws already around him from neck to chest as they shake and try to rip him apart with growls vibrating his metal. Trying to brute force the amused defender is a good tactic, but still, even if body-tazering does not work on the blue lizard through those ancient and insulated scales, it is very lucky the A.I. has valid reasons to not turn it into scale-paste from any number of creative solutions.
It may not of been able to talk to Rasalhague, but the robot is sure the predator would be "happy" to accept being elbowed till one half of their rib cage is cracked loudly and bleeding through bruises in return for not being an inconvenient organic layer of liquefied reptile on his metallic frame that would attract worse things. The A.I. uses the opportunity as the heavy thing roars in pain to chomp his bahamite-alloy teeth down on one of those forelimbs with a mechanical whir as an added incentive to get the fuck away from his hatchling, and the shiny metal dragon can finally relax as the big one limps away with a dragging limp, dripping purple life-fluid along with the rest of the pack following their leader.
The prime-dragon had watched with both extreme interest and a deep level of concern for his protector, and was pawing at that chest door more adorably than he had any right being to try and help. Rasalhague comforts them with this electronic voice and and the gentle back rub of a warm, simulated paw inside. He keeps moving, undamaged but coated in purple and sticky "blood" he can't seem to burn or wipe off easily. The machine may of guessed this is what they where filled with to be flame retardant like he hypothesized, but he had not expected it to have an endothermic reaction and be an ultra-coagulant that can still drip and seep into any moving part and gunk it up.
His metal body was programed and built by four gods and hundreds of mega-geniuses with decades of simulations, along with himself being knowledgeable and instructed by Selene the Moon Goddess of Life on the more exotic foes possible in the universe when he was a formless Machine Spirit. But evolution still found a way to outsmart him, as it was ingenious how this species evolved congealing blood so even after losing a fight, a large dragon could easily be gunked down when they least expect it by something they can't burn or wash away easily so they can resume their hunt after a long-enough wait. Even magic is going to take awhile to solve this, and being half paralyzed as he tries to prevent permanent damage to his electronics is definitely leaving him more vulnerable.
He does realize that he could simply instruct the prime-dragon to get to the designated safe place without him, and that he'd be able to survive without his protector soon enough. But before his faster-than-light thoughts can consider it, Rasalhague actually give a metallic and verbal "what?" as his chest is depressurized and hisses open with steam, and a young dragon five times bigger than when they hatched crawls out before closing again. The occupant had been much more intuitive than anyone's predictions, and had both guessed how to hack his protector and speed-read the missing info rather fast, and was now free.
Those bright scale patterns of yellow and red gained a black spiral from nose to tail due to the radiation outside as the unnamed dragon crawls along the guardian, and meets their true gaze for the first time in an unexpectedly solemn moment. Rasalhague can see their scales grow richer and more mature in the harsh light of the setting, siamese sun, the two rather silent, and the A.I. would of caught his breath if he was capable of it. The one the machine spirit was modified for and trained to protect, who he had fallen in love with like a mother and father both and had even grown them inside of himself just like an organic parent when he was still in tank-mode, was now free and had surpassed the expectations of his surrogate (Or actual? it is confusing but no less endearing) parent.
Whatever he expected; to be abandoned like he was hoping so the young one can protect himself or to be stayed with for some arbitrary time before he could convince them to take any important parts from him for their own good, Rasalhague did not expect them to start chewing the solidified gunk and eating it while making reassuring chirps. (note to self, the ability to speak is still on track to develop reliably by day to.) But in hindsight, the prime-dragon's teeth where stronger than even a god-built machine's claws and body defenses, as well as his saliva being beyond merely acidic or caustic, as well as being able to digest literally anything imaginable. And consuming the blood of one's foes was a way to get stronger, but still...
"This... This is not appropriate at all, young sir." He tries to discourage them, feeling a little awkward and embarrassed, but both a little from the efficiency of this and that stern but concerned look prevents him from saying much more in protest. Especially when he can finally move noticeably better again, and the smaller dragon takes a metal front paw in those little jaws and pads off with his guardian in tow, both moving fast towards the safe-zone, designated from the lack of any migration patterns, lack of geological activity or other environmental hazards, and is hard for anyone but the two of them to enter easily.
The only time the little thing lets go is once to dig up a burrowing and shrieking lizard-thing that he chomps and crunches down in three bites despite its size (both adorable and unnerving in equal measure), and then again once they arrive safely and dig a fox (or dragon) hole big enough for three dragons to rest in. As the sun sets, the robo-dragon finds his charge pulling the mechanical being onto his side against the back wall, the organic dragon already very strong, but seems to just want that chest exposed to rest their head against, those paws pulling Rasalhague's head onto his back like a blanket, already asleep.
As acceptable as it would be if his charge (he needs to help them choose an appropriate name for such a superior dragon, it is not like it is his place to choose the name for someone who deserves the respect of choosing their own) only cared about their own comfort as he is there to serve them unconditionally, his machine spirit heart is warmed as he sees them nuzzling and tapping his metal chest with those paws like a hatchling snuggled up to one of their parents.
He is at least four times the size of a regular hatchling and is much stronger and more adaptive than him already, but he is still so young, needy, and concerned about his protector's safety. Prime-dragons where made to serve and protect dragon-kind, but they where not grown with it being a default choice. The watcher is not a true dragon, and while he personally loved the being that grew inside him for decades, there was no reason for this little thing to feel the same way. But the more he thought about it, he realized how to a perceptive being like this little one against him, it would be easy to realize how cared for they are. The prime-dragon may of had little choice in who to bond with, but they could of simply not cared at all as well. Yet what made them exit on their own was their concern for him as much as he would of discouraged that.
He is at least able to smile as he keeps watch for the night.
Before, he was just a tank. An egg-growing tank on Earth. Before that, he once was a machine spirit flowing through the circuits of Mars. Now, those roles are over, and he is currently a synthetic dragon to better care for the god-child he swore to protect if needed. While he never had expected it to go this far, he is glad for all of the preparation he and each of the other thirty or so spirits received.
Rasalhague, not disturbing the little one as they sleep, had used his tail to spray anti-chaos runes around the foxhole. The machine had also made sure to gently place a holographic bracelet on the dragon. It takes on the color of the scales it rest on, hidden and ready to redirect damage and memetic effects.
The A.I tried contacting Earth or any world or ship of dragonkind since there is no need to move for the moment. But due to the severe warp storms, he had to limit it to passive searching in the warp tunnels, being more active in the magical and electrical pathways across space and time.
At first he finds very little beyond isolated maintenance programs and spirits, who while happily talk with him in faster-than-light thoughts after wandering for so long, merely shrug when he ask about The Sol System. Though he is finally able to get somewhere when everyone co-ordinates and ask more intently, finding an actual, organic dragon in the yellow ether lanes.
The dragon, an ancient male one of very mixed origin (his scales where yellow/orange/red/gold. Not that this is bad, simply the product of a world where Tiamat and Bahamut never grew antagonistic, meaning Chromatic/Metallic mixing is common), works as a technician, engineer, and scout for his home base set up in the tech-tunnels between the worlds. The old being is curious, and listens rather well, pointing him the right way to the closet station; a large pillar of metal and magic circuits in a circular walkway.
With no time to question things, and both parties guessing the other is not big "C" chaos, the A.I. zooms his circuit-self rapidly into the circle, and "runs" around the conduit in the center thousands of times per second, eventually getting an image of Earth, damaged by war.
Unsure whether he is going to end up leading chaos to his young charge or not if he reaches into a backup body in the Materium, he finds himself manifested as a small, blue version of himself held in the paws of the Omni-Dragon.
One of the first few dragon gods born in this universe, the Omni-dragon, the All-Dragon, is able to manifest machine spirits into the physical world whenever he wants. It is comforting as much as it is awe-inspiring, though he feels like a much newer spirit after the two touch noses with a soft, metallic ding. Rasalhague's glowing form highlights that colossal face of the god, revealing an unblinking, creaking figure in a metal pavilion on a dusty Mars.
After a private moment between creation and god, the two are soon surrounded by the other three deities of the Sol System, everyone talking instantly with such powerful brains and abilities. This lets Rasalhague find out a few things:
1. The fact that his dragon was the first egg of the group was ironically fitting, as it seems the others are still travelling through the warp.
2. All of this talk is done in secrecy, the warp storms allowing the Dark Gods to almost manifest daemons, so it is not yet time to talk or plan to help beyond blessing or info till the nearby systems are reunited.
3. may take a few decades before help arrives physically.
4. The still-growing eggs on Earth are okay, growing up and will hatch soon into what the gods intended.
In return, he sends them data of the young Prime-Dragon, and is treated to a long and silent moment of the gods staring in love, pride, and hope at the mental pictures. Even Tiamat has a smug and satisfied look after seeing the battle and how assertive the young thing she helped create is.
There is too much to cover for mortal minds at this point, beyond the well-wishes and hopes of powerful deities to their children, helpful blessings, and a safe return to his body.
By the time the young dragon wakes up, it is time for them to plan and then contact Earth.
The young dragon is 25% bigger in mass than yesterday after he wakes up, and the priority is to make sure they are strong and smart enough to survive. So while they do help with moving, pushing, and smashing when the robot alone is not enough, that is to make sure they are growing muscle and co-ordination between their ravenous eating and equally ravenous reading.
And after the Prime-Dragon settles down after finishing the thirtieth burrowing lizard and countless alien plants, Rasalhague shares with him a message from his creators.
Even though he has not yet said a word, the dragonling's expression is a book of emotions and curiosity, the message ending with a small touch from each of the four gods.
After this, the young dragon thinks for a moment, blinking, and crying a little. He hugs his skinny, metal guardian around the head with how much smaller he is, the A.I. not having the heart to stop him, and realizing how much he thinks of himself as a parent to this little being here.
And before he knows it, here is a roaring outside, with a pack of predators.
ones who do not realize how convenient it will be for the only predators in this section of the forest to gather themselves in one spot to be killed and prevent others from figuring it out.
The guardian and child look at each other for a moment, neither scared and bot knowing that it is not them trapped up there with these creatures.
But that the creatures are stuck in there with these two.