Omnion found me on the aft deck of the ThunderCoil that night. The ship was gliding through a quiet stratum...no alarms, no threats, just the low hum of resonance coils and the violet-gold glow of the engines. I was coiled on the railing, wings half-spread, staring at the inverted rock sky drift by. My golden scales caught the light like they were trying to remember being human.

  She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned on the rail beside me. Her violet and white armor gleamed. The ∞ buckle on her belt pulsed faintly. Her sunset-orange eyes looked out at the same scene...endless layers of rock zipping by.

  After a while she spoke. Her voice low. It carried none of her characteristic sass.

  “You never talk about before the change. Your family.”

  I didn’t look at her. “Nothing to say.”

  “Bullshit. You carry it every time you fight. I see it in the way you shield the others...even me."

  I exhaled. Smoke curled from my nostrils...habit now. I wasn't unleashing my breath-weapon. It was a fire I was still learning to manage. “You really want the story?”

  “I want to know who I’m flying with. And why you’re always the first one to step between the crew and trouble.”

  I was quiet for a long time. I shifted uneasily and wrapped my wings in close. Then I started talking.

  ---

  It was the road trip that killed us.

  We were in the RV. I-65 south. It was late spring. The windows were cracked. It always smelled of cut grass and diesel. Dad was driving. Mom riding shotgun. Zoe bouncing in her seat asking about bottomless pits. I was sprawled in the back with Green Lantern open on my lap.

  Zoe leaned over. “Malik, can Batman beat Green Lantern?”

  I smirked. “Batman doesn’t need to beat Lantern. He’d outsmart him. Or inject him with fear toxin. Or something.”

  She giggled. “But what if Green Lantern was really big? Like, bigger than the house?”

  “Then he’d call Superman. Or just run.”

  Mom turned. “Malik, read to her. She likes your voices.”

  I sighed like it was the end of the world, but I flipped back. “Fine. ‘In brightest day, in blackest night…’”

  Zoe snuggled closer. I softened my voice without meaning to. Hal Jordan’s oath always hit different when I read it to her. Like maybe if I said it right, the ring would show up one day and pick me.

  Dad watched in the rearview. I saw the flicker: pride, maybe, or something heavier. He reached for the glovebox. Stopped. Hand back on the wheel.

  The drive was easy. Radio low. Zoe singing off-key. Mom laughing. I read comics to my sister. Grandma hummed hymns. Dad kept his eyes on the road.

  We pulled into Mammoth Cave just after lunch. Parked. Stretched. Took pictures. Bought tickets for the Historic Tour. Guide said about 80 people plus rangers. Big group. I didn’t care. Zoe was excited. That was enough.

  Into the dark.

  The cave swallowed us. Cool. Damp. Ranger lights up on the walls. Voices echoing soft. Zoe held Mom’s hand. I stayed close to Zoe. Dad walked last.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The guide talked formations. Fat Man’s Misery. Bottomless Pit. Everyone laughed nervously. Dad’s hands were shaking. I saw it. Said nothing.

  Then pain.

  Sharp. Bone-deep. Everywhere.

  Scales ripped through my shirt. Wings tore out of my back. Bones cracked longer. I screamed. Everyone screamed.

  Lights flickered. Strings ripped. Bulbs exploded. Sparks. Darkness.

  But the dark wasn’t dark.

  Nightvision snapped on: sharp, eerie grayscale clarity overlaying heat signatures. Every scale, every claw, every panicked eye visible in perfect detail. Shadows gone. The cave was lit by dragon glow now.

  The sense of smell slammed in next. Amplified. Overwhelming. Sweat acrid. Fear-piss sharp and sour. Terror-shit thick and choking. Dragon blood loud and metallic. Stone dust dry. Burnt wiring from lights. All of it like a punch to the face. Taste deadened...meverything ash and metal. No flavor. Just bitter nothing.

  Then the voices.

  Inside my head. Everyone’s. All at once.

  "Help me!"

  "It hurts—God it hurts—"

  "My children—where are my children—"

  "We’re monsters!"

  "Dad—stop—please—"

  "I can’t breathe—the walls are closing—"

  Hundreds of minds screaming. No filter. No control. Every fear, every plea, every terror crashing into my skull. Overlapping. Deafening.

  The cave was too small.

  Wings battered walls. Claws raked stone. Sparks. Dust. Blood sprayed. Bodies collided. Roars drowned screams. Tails lashed. Wings thrashed. Claws tore wing membranes. Wet rips. More screams. More roars.

  I saw Zoe first. Sapphire scales. Tiny wings. Eyes wide. I surged forward. Shoved between bodies. Gold scales glinting in nightvision. Reached her. Wrapped my arms around her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  Zoe clung. "Malik—don’t leave—"

  Mom pushed through. Ruby scales. Pressed against us. "Together. Together."

  Dad roared. Deep. Guttural. Animal. His mind flashed: "Lena—Zoe—mine—safe—" twisted with rage and pain.

  My mind answered: "Dad—stop—protect them—"

  The surge started.

  Blind instinct toward light. Dragons trampled. Stone cracked. Ceiling groaned. The crowd poured toward the exit. Living avalanche of scales and wings and claws.

  Dad scooped Mom and Zoe under his wings. I flanked them. Shoved others aside.

  We burst into afternoon sky.

  Sunlight hit scales. Roars turned skyward. Wings beat. We flew...Dad carrying Mom and Zoe, me beside them. We were all in a blind panic.

  We crashed into a field miles away. Grass crushed beneath our new bulk. Chest was heaving. My mind was still ringing with everyone else’s terror.

  Dad looked at us and down at himself. He was covered in emerald scales. He worked his massive wings with horror in his eyes.

  Mom curled around Zoe.

  I stood between them and Dad. Gold scales glinting.

  The voices still echoed.

  But now they were quieter.

  And the world was forever changed.