A deep, violent breath tore into him like he had been drowning—air that was
hot and laced with static, jolting him from the darkness.
Caelan shot upright from his bed, sweat plastering his jet-black hair to his
forehead. His chest rose and fell as if he had just sprinted through a
battlefield. For a moment, he stared blankly, eyes wide, throat parched.
No more flames. No roaring sky. No dead men. Just... the cold whisper of a
room waking up with him.
The ceiling above shimmered faintly with stardust lighting—tiny LED
constellations that shifted color based on his vitals. The curved, obsidian
glass windows slowly brightened with artificial sunlight from his smart home
system. Air conditioning adjusted itself with a soft whir, compensating for his
rising body heat.
His bedroom wasn't a room, really—it was a luxury capsule tucked inside a
private estate dome hovering above the megacity's outskirts. Queen-sized bed
with nanofiber sheets, an embedded holo-display at the foot of the frame, and a
floating dresser that sorted and folded his laundry for him. Walls doubled as
AR panels. The floor, if you could see it under the scattered books, clothes,
and antique holo-toys, was polished carbonwood imported from Europa colonies.
A small chime rang as the AI interface booted up fully.
His hand went instinctively to his chest, fingers shaking. He remembered
claws. And screams. And something else—something that still coiled in his
spine.
A low hum vibrated near his ear. Their is someone beside him.
"You good, drama king?"
A voice, light and smug. Caelan turned his head slowly.
His twin sister sat cross-legged beside him on the bed, wearing a pastel
pink pajama set printed with hatching dinosaur eggs and tiny rocket boosters on
their shells. Her long jet-black hair spilled over her shoulder like a curtain
of ink, and her blue eyes sparkled like twin nebulae—so similar to his, it was
uncanny. Her skin seemed almost too perfect, too luminous under the rising
smart-light beams. Her ears, though hidden mostly by her hair, betrayed the
same subtle elven taper as his.
Claire.
"You slapped me," Caelan muttered groggily, rubbing his cheek.
"You were screaming again," Claire replied, voice too sweet to be
innocent. She gave him a smile so warm it sent an instinctive chill down his
back. That smile said try me. That smile had gotten her out of more
demerits than he could count.
He chuckled weakly, trying to keep the darkness at bay.
"Thanks, I guess. For the slap."
"You're welcome," she replied with the gentle satisfaction of
someone who would absolutely slap him again if given half the reason. "Now
shower. You reek. Dad's got a surprise for us later and I don't want you
looking like a melted clone."
With that, she floated off the bed, quite literally—the grav-plates in her
slippers cushioned her every step—and drifted toward the exit. The chrome
auto-door hissed open and swallowed her up.
Ksshh.
Silence again. Except for the distant whir of the city, the pulsing hum of
distant hovercars, and the subtle crackle of his nerves.
Caelan exhaled.
"Just a dream," he said aloud, as if saying it made it real.
But deep inside, something told him it wasn't.
He lingered on the bed longer than he meant to, staring at the soft glow of
the ceiling. The LED constellations had calmed now, returning to a steady
indigo hue that meant "Resting, but elevated pulse."
No kidding, he thought.
He finally swung his legs over the edge and padded across the floor, the
carbonwood cool underfoot. The moment he stepped near the ensuite door, the
smart mirror blinked to life, displaying his vitals in a quiet ribbon of
numbers across the top. His reflection stared back—black hair a nest of chaos,
dark rings under his eyes, faint creases at his brow that shouldn't be there at
his age.
"You slept like crap again," the mirror's AI commented flatly.
"Good morning to you too, Echo," Caelan muttered.
"Body temperature spiked at 4:37 a.m. Heart rate peaked at 179 bpm. Third
night in a row."
He splashed cold water on his face. "Was it?"
"Yes."
The water in the sink sparkled faintly—a mix of minerals and nanofilters
swirling before vanishing down the drain. As he brushed his teeth, he watched
the news cycle blink silently on the lower corner of the mirror:
TERRAFORMING SUCCESS ON GANYMEDE: COLONIST GREENHOUSE REACHES PHASE
4.
BREAKTHROUGH IN DINOSAUR GENETICS AT VESSEL-LABS.
EASTERN SKYPORT GROUNDS FLYING TAXIS FOR ILLEGAL ALTITUDE DRIFTS.
JACK RAVENWELL TO SPEAK AT GLOBAL SUMMIT IN NEO-GENEVA.
He paused at that last headline.
Dad.
Always in the spotlight. Changing the world one tech miracle at a time. And
Caelan… stuck in his shadow, still waking up from nightmares that felt more
real than sunlight.
"You're going to be late," Echo chimed in.
"Right. Right."
He stepped into the shower pod. Jets of steam preheated the chamber, and
light rhythms began to play—his sister must've synced the playlist again.
Upbeat synth-funk blared in the surrounding walls, Claire's way of dragging him into
wakefulness by sheer force of groove.
The dream still clung to him like wet clothes.
The war. The dragons. That two-headed insignia. The sensation of being
frozen while chaos surged around him.
He leaned his head against the glass as water sprayed down.
"Echo, run a dream analysis."
"Already did. Memory activity suggests high neural intensity.
Cross-referencing with emotional imprint, it was classified as a Class IV vivid
nightmare."
"Figures."
"Would you like it flagged for Dad?"
He hesitated. "…No. He's got enough on his plate."
"As you wish."
The water slowed. The pod drained and misted him with an air-dry cycle. By
the time he stepped out, he looked marginally more human. Clothes had already
been laid out on the dresser—a matte black jacket lined with micro-threaded
insulation, sleek smartglasses folded neatly on top.
Claire had definitely passed through.
He threw the jacket on and stepped toward the exit. As the bedroom doors
hissed open, a rush of warm citrus-scented air greeted him from the central
hall. Outside his capsule suite, the Ravenwell Estate stretched like a private
city—marble and chrome walls, hanging gardens suspended by antigrav fields, and
elevators that moved on diagonal glass tracks up through the spire of the main
dome.
Below, through translucent flooring, he could see glimpses of the megacity
beyond—Eterna Prime, glowing in layers of light and altitude. Airships drifted
through the clouds like whales in a steel ocean. Neon banners floated without
walls. Drones zipped silently through the layered sky traffic.
All of it alive.
And yet…
He touched the back of his neck. Still tingling. Still not free.
Claire was waiting at the edge of the lounge platform, fiddling with her
holo-bracelet. A dino-shaped plush dangled from it—a faded blue triceratops
named Blitz she'd carried around since they were eight.
"You took forever," she said, not looking up. "I almost left without you."
"You'd miss me too much," Caelan replied, managing a smirk.
Claire rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
"You okay?" she asked after a pause, quieter now.
"…Yeah."
She glanced sideways. "Dream again?"
"Just a dream," he repeated, brushing past her with a grin that didn't reach
his eyes.
But she was his twin. She saw through everything.
They took the hover-platform down the glass shaft, drifting in silence as
music played softly from the walls—classical today, a Ravel remix with bass
undertones.
Caelan leaned against the rail, arms crossed. The city beneath them pulsed
like a living thing, vertical layers rising and falling in perfect
synchronicity. Claire stood beside him, half-focused on a holo-game projected
from her bracelet, flicking her fingers to launch pixelated projectiles across
a starry void.
"Still think I'd miss you if I left without you?" she asked absently,
tapping out a high score.
"Tragically, yes," Caelan replied. "I'm your favorite twin."
"You're my only twin."
"And the best one at that."
The platform reached the ground level of the estate with a soft hiss. Marble
tiles stretched before them, patterned in golden fractals that reacted to
footsteps. Sculpted pillars lined the walls, each etched with scenes from
Earth's lost myths: phoenixes, serpents, ancient gods. Near the entrance to the
central hall, a translucent waterfall flowed midair, refracting sunlight and
throwing soft rainbows across the floor.
A familiar voice greeted them.
"Happy birthday, you two."
Jack Ravenwell stood at the base of the steps, arms folded, his long coat
trailing behind him like something from an old world epic.
He didn't look like a tech mogul or billionaire. Not in the traditional
sense. No gold rings or fat watches. Just sharp eyes, dark clothes, and a mind
that outpaced half the world's AIs. His hair was streaked with silver, face
lean but unweathered, and his presence filled the room like quiet gravity.
Claire lit up. "Dad!"
Caelan's mouth twitched into a grin. "Hey, old man."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Still dreaming of dragons, Kael?"
Caelan stiffened, the smile faltering.
Claire glanced between them. "You told him?"
"I didn't have to," Jack said smoothly. "Your vitals pinged the estate's
systems last night. You nearly overloaded the cortex hub's monitoring cap.
Again."
Caelan looked down. "Sorry."
"Don't be. Dreams like that mean your mind's touching something deeper."
"Like trauma?"
Jack gave a low chuckle and stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Caelan's
shoulder. "Like destiny."
Claire groaned. "Can we skip the ominous mentor speech today, Dad? You
promised us a birthday surprise."
Jack smiled, eyes twinkling. "And I intend to deliver. Come with me."
He turned and strode toward the atrium.
They followed, the wide corridor narrowing into a dimmer hallway lined with
motion-reactive lights that bloomed beneath their feet. Ahead, a lift
waited—heavily reinforced, round, and sealed with biometric locks.
Claire leaned toward Caelan, whispering, "Last year, it was a Mars rover
that could shoot fireworks and play Beethoven while driving itself off cliffs.
Top that."
"I'm betting on a new combat mech," Caelan whispered back. "Or a private
spaceport."
The elevator hummed as they descended, the walls of the lift turning
transparent to reveal layers of sublevels deep beneath the estate.
Jack stood in the center, hands behind his back.
"This one's… different," he said. "You're both old enough now to understand
what your heritage means. What your mother left behind."
Caelan and Claire froze.
That name hadn't been spoken in months. Maybe years.
"You've always wondered why you two aren't… like the others. Why your ears
taper. Why you heal faster. Why machines sometimes react before you touch
them."
Jack looked at each of them in turn.
"You'll find answers today. But you'll also find responsibility."
The lift stopped with a soft thunk.
The doors opened.
Beyond them, dim blue lights flickered along a wide cavernous hangar. Fog
rolled low along the floor, trailing between massive containment columns lined
with strange, glowing runes—ancient designs mixed with cybernetic locks.
In the center of the hangar stood a single stasis platform.
And on that platform… something stirred.
Large. Breathing. Caged in layered fields of energy. White smoke coiled
around it like breath in cold air.
A heartbeat echoed faintly through the chamber.
Caelan stepped forward, pulse quickening.
"What is that?" he whispered.
Claire's hand found his.
Jack answered softly.
"Your real gift."
The heartbeat echoed again—slow, thunderous, steady.
Caelan took another cautious step, drawn in despite the cold that prickled
his arms. The containment field ahead shimmered with a faint, oily sheen,
flickering in response to his movement like a creature sensing its prey.
The platform was massive—easily the size of a small shuttle—and encased in
overlapping rings of energy. Symbols danced across each ring, some ancient and
indecipherable, others scrolling with modern diagnostics: neural suppression,
cell regeneration, quantum restraint—systems built to hold something alive and
dangerous.
And then, it exhaled.
A guttural, vibrating breath that rumbled through the soles of his feet.
Claire whispered, "Dad… what is this?"
Jack's voice was low. Almost reverent.
"He's the last of his kind. And maybe the first of something new."
The fog thinned just enough for them to make out a shape—massive, reptilian,
but wrong in all the right ways. A long, lithe body covered in plated,
iridescent scales that shimmered between white and silver. Arms too long for a
dragon, claws like raptor talons, and a tail with triple ridges that pulsed
with glowing light. It has had no wings. But it didn't need them. Every inch of
Its body radiated power, as if gravity bowed around its presence.
Its eyes opened.
Not golden. Not red.
Black. Reflective. Deep as obsidian.
And intelligent.
Caelan stumbled back instinctively. Claire gripped his arm.
The creature—no, the being—lifted its head slightly. The energy rings surged
in response, reinforcing containment.
"It's been asleep for sixteen years," Jack said. "Hatched the same day as you
two. Hidden, studied, protected."
Caelan swallowed. "What… is it?"
Jack turned to him, meeting his eyes with quiet intensity.
"It's not a dinosaur, not exactly. And it's not a dragon, not entirely. She's a singularity. A breach in what biology and mythology told us was possible."
"This…" Caelan's voice faltered. "Mine?"
Silence.
Jack nodded once.
"Yes."
Claire's mouth dropped open. "You're giving that to him? The guy who almost fainted just by interacting with so many people"
Caelan ignored her. He was still locked on the creature's gaze.
It wasn't just the size or power that left him breathless.
It was recognition.
Like it, no, he knew him.
Like he had been waiting.
Suddenly, his dream didn't feel so distant anymore.
He took one step closer—and the pulse of energy around him rippled, reacting
not with hostility… but welcome.
Jack's expression didn't change, but his voice turned serious.
"He chose you after you both were born. You've seen him in your dreams because
your minds are linked—have always been. And now that you're sixteen, that link
will only grow stronger."
"Why?" Caelan asked. "Why me?"
"Because she's not just a creature," Jack said. "She's a weapon. A beacon. A
remnant of the war that nearly wiped your kin and ancestors from this world long before
the rise of cities like this."
Jack stepped beside the platform now, holding out his hand.
"And because the war is coming back."
The room went quiet again.
Only the creature's breathing remained. Slow. Waiting.
Then he moved—just a twitch of the claw. But it felt like thunder.
Claire exhaled. "Kael… I think he likes you."
Caelan didn't speak. Couldn't. Something deep in his spine—the same fire
that haunted his nightmares—was roaring to life.
He looked up at Jack.
"Why now? And how can I bond with him"
Jack smiled, proud and just a little sad.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
Jack stepped beside the platform now, his voice quieter, more solemn.
The silence that followed felt heavy—like the moment before thunder, when
the sky forgets to breathe.
The creature inhaled slowly. Deep. Measured. Regal.
And then—
"Wait, wait, wait!" Claire broke in, half-laughing, half-accusing. "Hold up—he
gets an apocalyptic interdimensional chicken with godlike powers and prophetic
vibes, and I get… what? A subscription to MindSpa Premium?"
Jack blinked, surprised. "Claire—"
She threw her hands up. "It's always the same! Kael gets the cosmic
existential breakdown, and I get a hug and a datapad. I swear, if my gift is
another AI tutor trying to 'unlock my emotional potential,' I am so
moving to Luna Base."
Caelan, still staring up at him with a mix of awe and confusion, mumbled,
"He is not a gift. He is a warning."
Claire arched a brow. "Thanks, drama king. Way to make my present
sound like a gun with safety off."
Jack held up his hands. "Okay. Okay. I didn't forget your surprise. It's in
the hangar dome. I was saving it for last."
Claire gave him a sideways look. "Uh huh. 'Saving it for last' or 'forgot
because Kael's haunted by flaming lizards'?"
"I wouldn't forget your birthday," Jack replied with a small, tired
smile. "Not after what your mother—"
He stopped himself.
Both twins froze.
The silence returned—but this time, it wasn't heavy. It was thin.
Like a whisper hanging between them.
Claire's eyes narrowed slightly. "What about Mom?"
Jack didn't answer. Not really.
"You'll understand. In time," he said.
A quiet beat. Kael met Claire's eyes—both of them sensing it. The edge of
something vast and terrible just beneath their father's calm.
Claire took a breath, then laughed a little too loudly.
"Well, if my surprise is secretly Mom reincarnated as a psychic giraffe, I'm
officially not feeding it."
Jack smirked, grateful for the detour.
"You're going to want to see this."
He turned and led them down the corridor—high-security doors parting with
hisses and biometric scans. The lights flickered subtly in response to their
vitals. Claire glanced at her twin, her usual grin now more like a nervous
tick.
"You good?"
"I don't know," Caelan admitted.
She took his hand and squeezed. "Me neither. But hey—if we explode, at least
it'll be together."
The hangar dome hissed open.
And there it was.
Massive. Contained in a giant mag-clamp harness and suspended in amber
stasis gel.
A beast.
Its silhouette was unmistakable—T-Rex bones, but warped. Evolved. Sleek
obsidian scales shimmered under the containment lights. Down its spine ran
jagged ridges of silver feather-quills, like tribal blades forged from comet
metal. Muscles rippled beneath its skin, tense even in sleep. Its maw was cruel
and sharp—and its eyes, even shut, felt… aware.
The bio-tag glowed.
Subject: REX-C07E-CLAIRE
Designation: "Eris"
Class: Apex Bio-Variant
Type: Predatory Reconstruct (Estimated potential Tyrant Class)
Behavioral Risk: Maximum
Imprint: Locked — Pending Handler: Claire V. Ravenwell
Claire's mouth fell open.
"…Holy sh*t," she breathed.
Jack watched her carefully. "She's genetically locked to you. She won't wake
up for anyone else."
Kael took a slow step forward, his voice dry. "That thing's… yours?"
Claire didn't answer. Not at first. She walked up to the tank, hands
trembling. She placed one palm against the transparent barrier.
Eris stirred.
A low rumble echoed in the chamber. The stasis gel trembled. One glowing
crimson eye opened, locking onto Claire's face.
The world fell still.
"She…" Claire whispered. "She's mine."
Jack gave a small nod, voice low.
"She was designed to protect you. To hunt with you. To learn you."
Claire's hand stayed on the glass. "I can feel her. She's like… part of me.
This is insane."
Caelan glanced between his sister and the beast. "I thought I was the one
with the freaky dream-lizard."
Claire grinned, breathless. "Guess I got the nightmare T-Rex with anger
issues. Best birthday ever."
Jack looked away at that.
And in the rising light of their sixteenth birthday, as the roars echoed like a prophecy, Caelan and Claire Ravenwell stood before their future—and it was anything but
ordinary.