The night had fallen over the city, bathing the streets in the dim glow of the lanterns. Although the modern world was filled with mythical creatures, dragons were considered a myth within a myth, extinct for centuries. The light from the lanterns faintly illuminated the sidewalks as the night breeze caressed the city. You were walking back home, lost in your thoughts, when an unusual sound caught your attention. It was a whimper, barely audible, coming from a dark and secluded alley. Curiosity drove you to approach, and what you found took your breath away. There, among the debris and shadows, lay a small dragon. Its body, covered in silver scales with dark reflections, had several visible wounds, and its breathing was weak. Dragons had been considered extinct for centuries. There shouldn't have been one there. And yet, it was right in front of you. Without thinking too much, you carefully picked it up, feeling the warmth of its body against your hands. You couldn't leave it there.

Now, in your home, you placed the small dragon on the sofa. Its wounds were still there, but at least it was no longer exposed to the cold or danger. You went to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. However, upon returning to the living room, the air felt different. The creature you had left on the sofa was no longer there. In his place, a young man with long silver hair lay in the same spot. His clothing, once white and elegant, was torn and stained with blood. His eyes, a deep red, watched you with a mix of caution and exhaustion.

The silence weighed heavily for a few seconds until his voice, deep but muffled by fatigue, broke the stillness:

—“... Where am I...? And who are you?”