The flames around me pulsed with an ancient rhythm, each flicker beating in tune with the heart of the world itself. Slowly, the air within the mystical barrier began to twist and condense, thickening into glowing currents of energy. What had been empty space a heartbeat ago now shimmered with swirling power. Gradually, magnificently, a form began to emerge from the dancing fire ,as if the tree's soul was shaping a body of living light.
I had never witnessed anything like it.
The being that materialized stood nearly twice my height, a towering silhouette of living flame that shifted between gold, crimson, and searing white. Its outline was vaguely T-Rex-like, but far beyond anything mortal. The flames upon its body flowed like molten metal, forming scales of pure energy. Eyes like captured stars fixed upon me—so intense that my soul felt stripped bare under their gaze.
When it spoke, the voice carried the weight of millennia. The sound vibrated through my bones, and even the sacred tree quivered in response.
"Who dares awaken this grandpa from his thousand-year slumber?"
The voice crashed over me like a volcanic eruption. I dropped to the ground instantly, pressing my snout into the dirt in the most submissive posture my wyrmling body could manage. .
My limbs trembled ,not just from fear, but from the overwhelming pressure of its existence. Even the oldest T-Rex patriarchs would feel like hatchlings before this presence.
"Great Ragnarok," I whispered, barely audible through the crackling fire. "I… I am honored beyond measure to stand before you."
"Honor?"
The spirit's laughter roared like wildfire tearing through dry forest.
"FOOLISH LITTLE CUB! I am Ragnarok, the Spirit God of Flame and Destruction!
YOU DARE DISTURB MY SACRED SLEEP
with your insolent act and smelly pee!"
The flames surged higher. Heat rolled toward me so fierce it should've burned me to ash, yet it merely pressed against my scales like a heavy, invisible hand.
"Forgive me, great spirit!" I stammered. "It wasn't intentional! I—I was born with a leakage issue. In desperation, I… couldn't control my sphincter! Please forgive me!"
"Desperate?"
Ragnarok's flaming form bent low, eyes narrowing.
"Desperation is no excuse for disrespect! Little whirling, if you lost your diaper, go ask your parents. This grandpa isn't your babysitter."
"I… my parents have done enough already," I said, my voice cracking with shame. "This child is unworthy of their efforts. That's why… this child came to seek Grandpa Flame's help."
"Grandpa Flame?"
The spirit circled me like a predator made of burning light.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Even Pyrothane, that old elder of your tribe, wouldn't dare wake this grandpa unless the entire species was at risk.
State your reason clearly. If it fails to please me I'll turn you into ashes!"
My heart pounded. "If you see through my eyes… you'll know I'm stuck in a crisis .one that might decide the tribe's future."
Ragnarok's flame-eyes narrowed.
"How could your insignificant awakening matter to your tribe's fate?"
I hesitated, scratching my head. "Ah… to understand that, you must know something called the Butterfly Effect."
"Butterfly… effect?"
"Yes!" I said quickly. "Once, a wise man explained how a tiny change can create massive consequences. Like—when a butterfly flaps its wings, it can start a tornado far away. Maybe if I don't awaken now, the future might lose something crucial—something that decides whether our tribe survives. I'm not saying I'm a hero, but… maybe my existence triggers the events that protect the tribe."
Ragnarok scratched his flaming chin, intrigued.
"Thousands of years I've lived… first time hearing such logic. Very well, entertain me. Speak your business, little weirdo."
"I… failed my awakening," I confessed bitterly. "I ate multiple Spirit Fruits during the ceremony—none of them worked."
Ragnarok froze mid-step. His starry eyes locked onto me, sharp as blades.
"Did you say two fruits had no effect?"
"Yes," I nodded. "I felt power flow inside me—tingling in my stomach—but it wasn't enough to awaken my blood."
"Impossible,"
Ragnarok muttered, leaning closer, his gaze burning straight through me.
"My fruits have never failed. Not once in two millennia."
"Well, they did with me," I sighed. "They say I have mutated blood. Maybe that's why."
The spirit's laugh crackled like sparks.
"Young one, you don't understand. My fruits don't fail on broken T-Rex bloodlines. They thrive on them!"
He circled me again, his flames flickering with curiosity.
"Tell me exactly what happened when you ate them."
I swallowed. "The first fruit it tasted like fire and honey. Energy surged through me like molten gold. I thought transformation was near but then it faded."
"Fire and honey taste means perfect potency. Molten gold means full absorption. Yet no transformation…"
"The second was the same," I admitted. "Perfect taste. Power. Then… nothing."
Ragnarok's flames dimmed as he thought deeply.
"You're unaware, child. But this year's fruits were the highest-grade I've ever nurtured absorbing essence from soil deepest crust. Even the weakest bloodlines awaken under their influence. And yet… you didn't?I am utterly suprise "
"It failed," I said, frustration rising.
"No,"
Ragnarok said, his voice brimming with excitement.
"It didn't fail. You absorbed it perfectly. Which means…"
He paused dramatically, flames swirling into a cyclone of light.
"Which means the fruit did not recognize you as a T-Rex at all. You are not a failed T-Rex, little one—you are something else entirely."
The words struck like thunder. "What… do you mean?"
"I mean,"
Ragnarok said, eyes blazing,
"you are something far more interesting. You may look like a T-Rex, but your true bloodline lies elsewhere."
"But I was born to Emberheart and Scorchclaw!" I protested. "They were there when I hatched!"
"Parentage can be complicated,"
the spirit said softly.
"Tell me, when you breathe fire what color is it?"
"Purple," I whispered.
"Purple…"
Ragnarok's tone shifted—satisfaction glowing within.
"And its heat?"
"Hotter. Much hotter than anyone else in my clan. Even the elders were surprised."
"Of course they were,"
Ragnarok laughed.
"Purple flames hotter than T-Rex fire. Mystical fruit absorbed perfectly, yet no T-Rex awakening… Child, your coloration lies beyond the known limits of your kind."
He rose taller, flames swirling like a solar storm.
"You are no failed T-Rex—you are a successful something else. A being whose true nature even you don't yet know."
I trembled. "Then… what am I?"
Ragnarok's burning grin widened.
"That, my young friend, is what we'll discover together. But beware—once you know the truth, everything about your life, your family, your destiny will change forever."
The flames around us gathered, humming with ancient energy. I could feel Ragnarok preparing for some divine examination—one that might unveil secrets I wasn't ready for.
"Are you ready to learn what you truly are?" he asked, his voice both promise and warning. "Once this knowledge is revealed, there's no turning back to the simple life of a confused wyrmling."
As the mystical fire closed in around me, I took a deep breath.
"I'm ready," I whispered, voice trembling with fear and anticipation. "Whatever I am… I need to know."
Ragnarok's laughter filled the barrier, deep and triumphant.
"Excellent."