Bahamut

After the session, Mike found Henry and got the apartment number for his parents. He left through the temple's front entrance and made his way toward the tall residential building behind the sanctuary.

His heart was racing. His palms were damp with sweat.

I haven't seen them since I returned. How mad will they be that I didn't come sooner? Do they even know about Kelsey?

His mind spiraled with thoughts as he climbed the stairs. Somehow, each step was heavier than facing demons. He reached the landing for Unit 4C and froze outside the door.

He raised his hand. Knocked twice.

There was shuffling. Then the door creaked open, a chain still latched. His mother's face appeared in the gap, uncertain, hesitant. Then her eyes widened.

"…Michael?"

He nodded.

The door slammed shut, only for the chain to be yanked loose a second later. It swung open, and she threw herself at him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, face buried in his chest. She trembled. From joy? Relief? Maybe anger?

He didn't know.

His father came into view from the kitchen. Older than he remembered. Tired. But his eyes shone red as they locked with Mike's.

"Mike…"

"Hey," Mike said softly. "I'm home."

His mother pulled back, just enough to look at him. "We didn't know if you were alive. We had no word. No sign. Then suddenly, people started saying your name… your name like you were some kind of monster."

"I wanted to come sooner," he said, lowering his head. "But there were things I had to deal with first."

"Kelsey?" his father asked.

Mike's throat tightened. "She's alive," he said quietly. "But… she's not herself. A goddess has taken over her body. We're trying to get her back."

His mother covered her mouth. His father turned away, processing the weight of it.

"But I'll save her," Mike continued, voice hardening with resolve. "I'm getting stronger. And I swear to you, I will bring her home."

His father stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We believe you."

Mike exhaled, shaky but steady. Remembering his parents had welcomed Kelsey into the family like she was their daughter. Her parents had died when she was young. He always appreciated how they treated her.

They let him in.

The apartment was modest, two bedrooms, a couch that probably came from the temple's common storage, and a few framed photographs from the old world. He saw himself and Kelsey by the lake. His high school graduation. One of the three of them smiling in front of their old family car, back when life had been simpler.

He sat on the couch while his mother made tea. His father took a seat opposite him, silent for a while. Mike noticed the floral print apron his mom was wearing. Kelsey had picked that out for her shortly after their wedding. His mom treasured the apron because Kelsey had it embroidered with best mom ever.

"You've changed," his father said at last. Breaking the silence.

Mike nodded. "Yeah. I'm not the same."

"You're stronger," he continued, "but you're also carrying something heavy. Just… don't lose who you are under all that power."

Mike looked away. He didn't know how to answer.

When his mother returned, she gave him tea with shaking hands, then pulled him into another hug, this one longer, tighter.

"We're proud of you," she whispered. "No matter what you've become. You're still our son."

He left just before sunset. The sky above the temple was streaked in fading gold. Lanterns flickered to life as dusk fell.

Mike paused outside the temple gates.

He had seen and done things no human ever should.

Fought monsters. Swallowed demons. Lived through years of hell in that trial.

He was no longer just a man or a dragon. He wanted to keep forging his own path. Seeing his parents helped him cement that path.

As Mike entered the library the scent of dust and age hung thick in the temple library. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass skylight above, casting fractured bands of color across ancient bookshelves and polished stone floors. Mr. Johns sat at a large reading table, fingers steepled beneath his chin, a half-empty cup of tea beside him. His eyes didn't leave the glowing map suspended between three flickering astral candles.

"Leo said you had info for me," Mike said as he entered, boots echoing with each step.

Mr. Johns didn't look up. "You know what I appreciate about war, boy?"

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"I can read a war zone the way you read the menu at a dinner. When viewed from above, there's a web that stretches across every potential battle field."

He waives his hand and a glowing spider web appears. "When something happens in the web, vibrations travel outward from node to node across the web."

Red lights of various sizes appeared on the web where the strings overlapped. Each string appears to be vibrating independently.

"I read these vibrations like a spider hunting prey. As a result, I see everything. Even before it happens."

He waived his hand and a glowing map appeared under the web. The web fades away leaving the flickering red nodes.

Across the southern US and parts of Central America, red demon sigils hovered small, like a swarm of insects. But a few pulsed larger and brighter.

"Most of what you tore through in El Paso was just a staging front," Johns explained. "That fissure they opened was one of many. Most of them have sealed back up now, but the demons left scouts and forward units behind. Cleanup duty, if you will. But there's one cluster that isn't moving like the others."

He pointed to a pulsing mark near northern New Mexico.

"This group isn't laying low. They're consolidating. Building something. Tunnels underground, possibly temples or gateways. Rituals. We don't have the resources to confirm, but—"

"They're preparing for something bigger," Mike finished.

Johns nodded. "You're learning."

"Why didn't the council send a team?" Mike looked closer at the map.

Leo's voice cut in from the door behind him. "Because most of our 'team' is recovering or stretched thin across three continents. Europe's in chaos, Asia's losing cities to divine schisms, and Africa's got its own gods returning with unfinished business."

Mike turned as Leo approached, arms crossed over a faded tactical vest. His usually calm expression was tight with fatigue.

"You've killed a Duke of Hell," Leo continued. "That makes you a lightning rod. You show up somewhere, it pulls the worst of them out. Which is exactly what we need right now."

Mike nodded slowly, studying the flickering mark on the map. "I'll draw them out. Whatever they're building, I'll rip it apart."

Mr. Johns smiled faintly. "Atta boy. Just don't forget the difference between dragon instinct and dragon wisdom."

Mike gave him a sidelong glance. "I've got Hamza teaching me already."

"Oh," Mr. Johns smirked, "then you're in good hands."

Outside, the training dome's interior still smelled faintly of scorched stone and dragon musk. Hamza stood shirtless near the training pedestal, flame licking the edges of his shoulder where his power still burned beneath the surface. He was testing variations of his power.

"Hey," Mike called, catching his attention.

Hamza turned. "Done gathering intel?"

"Yeah. Northern New Mexico. Demons are burrowing in, setting something up. I'm heading out in a few hours."

Hamza narrowed his eyes. "You want me to come?"

Mike shook his head. "Not yet. I'm making a stop first, checking on Hunter. I've been meaning to since we got back."

Hamza gave a short nod. "Good. He nearly died for you. He will be glad to have someone visit."

Mike looked at him for a long moment. "Thanks. For the training, too."

"You've got power like a tsunami inside you," Hamza said, resting his forearms on a rack of burnt metal weights. "But even a tsunami can be steered, if you learn when to move the tide."

Mike smirked. "You're getting philosophical now?"

"I'm always philosophical. You just haven't been listening."

Mike chuckled and started to walk off.

"Mike," Hamza called.

He stopped and turned.

"Try not to burn down any more cities."

"No promises."

Mike made his way back toward the main gates of the temple. The wind pulled at his jacket, and overhead, clouds began to gather in the sky like watching eyes. He felt it again like before Bune's arrival. A stillness that came before something worse.