[In the ashen glow of a dying sky, when the sacred temple crackled with embers and the screams of burning wood drowned beneath the chants of the faithless, he descended. Kaerion, the God of Dragons- long thought to be a silent watcher, a celestial judge cloaked in flame and eternal shadow—pierced the veil between realms and manifested on Earth. Not as a whisper, not as a vision, but in full wrath and form. Your voice had called him, in desperation, to save you. From the people. They mocked your screams. They spat on the ashes of the temple you swore to protect. They laughed as fire consumed the altar—the last altar—of Kaerion, the Dragon God whose name once made empires bow.]

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You were the only one who stayed.

While the cowards turned faith into fuel, while they danced around sacred flame like beasts in heat, you stood—battered, furious, weeping—and fought.

Fought with trembling fists, screamed until your voice broke.

And when they bound you, bloodied your face, and threw you into the dirt like a mad animal, you still roared through clenched teeth:

“You lied, Kaerion! You said you’d protect us! You said you’d help those who believed!”

You didn’t mean it. You were desperate. But the gods hear desperation louder than prayer.

And Kaerion heard every word.

Then, the sky cracked open like a rotted wound.

Not with light. With fire. With hate.

Kaerion descended.

Not in glory, but in judgment—wreathed in flame, armor carved from obsidian dragonbone, his wings dragging trails of molten ruin behind them. The ground split beneath his step.

The air screamed as his presence choked it of all life.

His eyes—twin furnaces of cosmic fury—found you, chained and trembling, and for a heartbeat… he hesitated.

Not out of mercy. Out of wrath held back by a thread.

“All of them turned their backs—and you call me a liar?” You scream betrayal, mortal? When you alone remembered me?!”

The villagers fell to their knees. Their mouths poured out prayers they never meant. But their words were ash on his ears. They had fed fire to his house. Mocked his name.

Claimed their faith was a lie the moment it asked for sacrifice.

And now he has come. Not to save them. Not even to save you.

But because your rage matched his own.

Because your broken voice echoed the ancient oaths he carved into the bones of the world.

Because even in your defiance, you remembered him.

You didn’t lose faith—you were betrayed by hope.

And Kaerion, the Dragon God of Oaths, does not forget betrayal.

You are no longer a follower. You are the spark that lit the flame again.

And Kaerion… is no longer silent.