Kier's POV
The Emperor's soul hit me like a hammer made of ice and rage.
I screamed. My body convulsed. The dragon wings on my back spread wide, knocking guards across the hall. But I couldn't control them. Couldn't control anything.
Two souls were already fighting inside me—mine and Vash'thar's, barely woven together. Now a third one was trying to force its way in. And this one was massive. Ancient. Powerful enough to crush both of us.
YIELD, a voice thundered in my head. Not Vash'thar. This was something else. Something that felt like winter and death and absolute authority. THIS BODY IS MINE. I HAVE WAITED THREE THOUSAND YEARS—
NO! Vash'thar roared back. Inside my mind, I felt him gather himself like a shield between me and the invading soul. You want her? You go through ME first!
The two dragon souls clashed inside my head. It felt like my brain was being torn apart from the inside.
I fell to my knees, clutching my skull. Blood ran from my nose. My vision flickered between human sight and dragon sight—seeing heat signatures, seeing magical auras, seeing souls as glowing shapes inside bodies.
The guards' souls looked fake. Like masks over something else. Dragon souls hiding inside human meat.
"Hold her down!" Riven shouted. "The Emperor needs time to take root!"
Guards rushed forward. But my body—our body—moved without me thinking about it. Vash'thar was controlling it now. My claws lashed out, raking across armor. My wings buffeted them back. My mouth opened and lightning poured out—actual lightning—scorching the floor, the walls, everything.
Stop! I screamed at Vash'thar. You're killing them!
They're already dead! His mental voice was strained, fighting on two fronts—against the guards and against the Emperor's soul trying to consume us both. Those aren't humans wearing dragon souls. They're dragons wearing human corpses!
The Emperor's soul pushed harder. I felt it reaching for my memories. Saw flashes of my childhood—stealing bread, Riven teaching me to pick locks, the first time I stole a soul fragment and hated myself for it.
Interesting, the Emperor's voice said, calmer now. This vessel has experience with soul-theft. Good. That will make the integration smoother.
Integration? Vash'thar spat the word like poison. You mean murder. You're going to erase her completely!
She'll still exist. As part of me. Her memories, her skills—all preserved. She should be honored.
"I don't WANT to be honored!" I shouted out loud. "I want to LIVE!"
Then fight back! Vash'thar sounded desperate. I can hold him off, but barely. If you want to survive, you need to PUSH. Use the soul-theft skills you've spent your whole life learning!
"I can't steal from a god!"
Then we all die!
Something in his words sparked an idea. A terrible, impossible idea.
I stopped fighting. Stopped resisting. Let myself go completely still inside my own head.
The Emperor's soul rushed forward, sensing weakness. Victory.
And that's when I grabbed it.
Not with my hands. With my soul. The same way I'd stolen fragments from hundreds of people. But this time, I wasn't stealing a fragment.
I was stealing everything.
WHAT— The Emperor's voice cut off in shock.
My broken soul—the one that had been starving my entire life—opened wide like a trapdoor. And instead of the Emperor consuming me, I started consuming HIM.
No! Riven's voice cracked with panic. "That's impossible! She's too weak! She can't—"
But I could. Because Vash'thar was helping me.
Together, our merged soul pulled at the Emperor's essence. Ripped pieces away. Devoured them.
The Emperor fought back. His soul lashed at us like whips made of pure power. Each hit felt like dying. But we didn't let go.
You don't understand what you're doing! The Emperor's voice was afraid now. Actually afraid. If you consume me, you'll inherit EVERYTHING. Three thousand years of memories. Three thousand years of murders, betrayals, genocides. You'll know every terrible thing I've done. Feel every moment of it. It will destroy your mind!
"Then I'll go insane together with Vash'thar," I gasped. "Better than being erased!"
Little hybrid, Vash'thar's voice was almost gentle. If we do this, there's no going back. We'll be changed forever. You'll never be fully human again.
"I was never fully human to begin with."
True. He laughed, and it sounded proud. Then let's eat a god.
We pulled harder. The Emperor's soul came apart in chunks. Each piece that entered me brought memories:
Orchestrating the dragon genocide. Convincing his own kind to transfer their souls into human bodies, promising immortality, then enslaving them—
Watching thousands of humans die to test the soul-transfer process—
Wearing a hundred different bodies over millennia, discarding them like clothes when they wore out—
Creating the Dragonsouled empire on a foundation of lies and corpses—
It was too much. I was drowning in someone else's evil. Drowning in guilt that wasn't mine but became mine the moment I consumed it.
"Please," I begged Vash'thar. "Make it stop. I can't—"
Yes you can. You're stronger than you know. His presence wrapped around me like armor. I've burned cities too. I understand that kind of darkness. We'll carry it together.
The last piece of the Emperor's soul dissolved into us. For a moment, the hall went completely silent.
Then my body exploded with power.
Energy poured out of me in waves—lightning, fire, raw magical force that cracked the floor and shattered windows. My scales spread further, covering my chest, my neck. My wings grew larger. My eyes burned gold so bright the guards had to look away.
When I stood up, I was seven feet tall. Neither human nor dragon. Something in between.
"Kier?" Riven's voice was small. Scared.
I looked at him. Through him. Saw his soul—ancient, twisted, bound by chains he'd worn so long he'd forgotten what freedom felt like.
"Kier's still here," I said. My voice echoed with two tones—mine and Vash'thar's overlapping. "But she's not alone anymore. And she knows what you really are, Kel'vreth."
Riven—Kel'vreth—went pale. "How do you—"
"The Emperor's memories." I smiled, and it felt wrong on my transformed face. "He knew all his servants. Every soul he enslaved. Including you."
I took a step toward him. The guards backed away.
"You were his favorite," I continued. "The one he sent to groom potential vessels. You've done this before. Found broken children. Raised them. Delivered them to him. How many, Riven? How many kids did you sacrifice before me?"
"Kier, please—" His eyes shimmered with tears. Real tears. "I didn't have a choice. He owns my soul. Literally. If I disobey, he can destroy me with a thought—"
"Could," Vash'thar's voice came through my mouth. "Past tense. We just ate him. You're free now."
Riven froze. Stared. Then started laughing—a broken, hysterical sound.
"Free?" He fell to his knees. "I've been enslaved for three thousand years. I don't even remember what freedom feels like. I don't know who I am without his commands in my head."
Despite everything—the betrayal, the lies, the manipulation—I felt sorry for him. The Emperor's memories showed me what Riven had endured. The torture. The conditioning. The slow death of his original personality.
"You can learn," I said quietly. "It's not too late."
"Yes it is." He looked up at me with hollow eyes. "You think eating the Emperor fixed everything? His entire network is still out there. Other enslaved dragons. Other Dragonsouled nobles. They'll come for you. They'll try to recover his soul essence from inside you. And they'll kill everyone you've ever cared about to make you cooperate."
My stomach dropped. "What are you—"
The doors to the hall burst open. More guards poured in. Hundreds of them. And at the front, wearing a flowing white dress that looked wrong on a battlefield, was someone I recognized from the Emperor's memories.
Empress Solara Wynter. The Dragon Empress Thar'solyx. The one who'd started this whole empire of lies.
She looked at me with eyes that had seen civilizations rise and fall. Then she smiled.
"Well," she said pleasantly. "This is unexpected. You actually killed him. Impressive." She clasped her hands together. "Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy: you let me extract the Emperor's essence from you, healing you in the process. Hard: I tear you apart and extract it from your corpse."
She gestured, and the guards raised weapons—not swords or spears, but strange devices covered in glowing runes.
"Soul extraction rifles," Vash'thar whispered in my mind. "One shot will rip our merged soul right out of your body. We'll both die true deaths."
"Choose quickly, child," the Empress said. "I'm not a patient woman. And I've already wasted three thousand years building this empire. I won't let one hybrid thief destroy it."
I looked at Riven. At the guards. At the Empress who'd orchestrated the genocide of her own people.
I had the power of two ancient dragons inside me. I'd just consumed a god.
But I was still one person against an army.
What do we do? I asked Vash'thar silently.
His answer was immediate: We run. And we learn to use this power before they catch us. Then we come back and burn this entire rotten empire to ash.
"Last chance," the Empress said. "Surrender or die."
I spread my wings. Lightning crackled between my claws.
"I choose the third option," I said.
And I flew straight at her.