The Milf's Dragon

The ship descended through Kaelos’s smog-choked atmosphere.

The lower districts sprawled below; a maze of rusted spires, flickering neon lights, and shadowed alleys. No orbital control, No immigration questions. Gorvax piloted manually, weaving between the spires, avoiding patrol routes. His silence was heavier than usual.

Owen’s CE core pulsed at 480. The ambient energy here was thick, almost oppressive. It pressed against his skin, seeped into his lungs. Different from Veridian Crossing. Denser and colder. He could feel the weight in every breath.

They landed on a decrepit pad, rusted metal groaned under the ship’s weight. The ramp lowered. Then the smell hit immediately: industrial runoff, decay, and something faintly sweet, like rotting flowers.

Gorvax led him through narrow, winding corridors. Walls lined with pipes leaking steam. Flickering lights cast long shadows that seemed to move on their own. Water dripped somewhere in the distance. A constant, rhythmic tapping echoed from elsewhere.

Then they stopped before a reinforced door which Gorvax didn’t knock on. He just placed his palm on a scanner and the door hissed open.

The room beyond was small and Cluttered with medical equipment, empty vials and a single bed. The air was cold and sterile. On the bed, a figure lay under thin blankets.

---

She was blue-skinned, her hue faded like old paint. She had Black eyes without pupils, empty, yet somehow aware. Her hair was white, brittle, spread across the pillow. Tubes ran from her arms to machines that beeped slowly and irregularly.

Gorvax moved to her side. His robed form, usually so still, seemed almost human. He adjusted her blanket. She stirred.

"Gor... You came back." Her voice was soft and dry like a whisper.

Gorvax’s voice was low. "I always come back, Seri."

She looked at Owen. "You brought someone, a friend?"

Gorvax nodded. "This is Owen."

---

Owen stepped closer. "What’s wrong with her?"

She smiled, weak, but genuine. "Cosmic Power Deviation. A sickness of the core. My own energy turned against me, eating me from the inside. I was Once Tier 4. Now my CE signature is barely Tier 5, one-star."

Gorvax’s voice was flat. "I became a cosmic gardener to gather life force, cosmic energy, hoping to reverse it. But all I can do is ease the pain. The energy slows the decay but Never stops it completely"

He paused. "Every Core I collected, every harvest I made, it only bought her more time. Never a cure."

Owen thought of Yuki. Of what he’d do if she were lying in that bed. The answer was simple. Anything.

---

Seri’s comm buzzed. She glanced at it. Her expression tightened.

"The Enforcers are moving through the lower districts. Asking questions and showing your image."

Gorvax’s hand tightened on the scythe. "How long before they get here?"

"An hour. Maybe less."

She struggled to sit up. Her movements were slow, painful. Tubes pulled taut. Machines beeped faster. "I... have something for you, it should hide your signature. I’ve been working on it."

She handed Gorvax a small device; a dampener. It masked cosmic energy signatures. Not perfect but just enough to buy time.

Owen watched her. The weight of her illness. The cost of Gorvax’s harvesting of lesser world. He understood now. Gorvax wasn’t just a cosmic gardener, He was a desperate man in love.

---

Gorvax helped her lie back down. His hands were gentle and careful.

In that moment, he removed the void-black covering that hid his face.

Owen was surprised. A humanoid face. Blue skin, black eyes—just like Seri’s. Eyes that held sadness. Deep lines etched around his mouth. He looked tired.

"How long does she have?" Owen asked.

Gorvax’s voice was quiet. "Years. Maybe less. The decay accelerates unpredictably. Some days she is almost herself. Other days..."

He didn’t finish.

Seri reached up, touched Gorvax’s arm. "Don’t mourn me yet. I’ve lasted this long. I will last longer."

She looked at Owen. "He’s not the monster the Tribunal thinks he is. He’s just a man who couldn’t let go."

---

Alarms blared from her monitor. A proximity alert. Red light flashed across the room.

"They’re here. The Enforcers found us."

Gorvax stood. The scythe materialized in his grip. "Stay with her. I’ll lead them away."

Owen stepped forward. "You can’t fight multiple Tier 4 Enforcers alone."

Gorvax’s voice was cold. "I’m not going to fight. I’m just going to run. Keep her safe."

Owen looked at Seri. At her weak frame. At the monitors tracking her fading life.

He made a decision. "I’m not hiding. I’ll go with you."

Gorvax’s eyes narrowed. "You’re not strong enough."

"I’m strong enough to be a distraction."

Seri grabbed Owen’s wrist. Her grip was surprisingly firm. "Don’t die. He’s lost too much already."

Owen nodded.

---

They exited through a back passage. The corridor was narrow, dark. Pipes overhead. Water dripping. Their footsteps echoed as the passage led into an alleyway.

Behind them, a wall eploded inward.

BOOM!

Figures stepped through; armored, rings of light embedded in their metal suits. Four of them. Each one radiating Tier 4 pressure.

One Enforcer’s voice was cold, mechanical. "Gorvax, the Sower. You can’t run forever. You have the right to remain silent. Your crime of robbing a Noble Race’s vault shall be answered for."

Gorvax shoved Owen forward. "Go. Now."

Owen hesitated.

Gorvax raised the scythe. "I said go."

Owen ran. The sound of clashing energy followed him, Gorvax’s scythe against an Enforcer’s blade. Metal on metal. Sparks in the dark.

He burst out onto a lower district street. The smog was thick. He couldn’t see the sky. Neon signs flickered above. Garbage clogged the gutters. Figures in shadows watched him pass, then looked away.

His CE core pulsed. 480. Then 485. The stress was pushing him toward two stars.

---

His comm buzzed. Gorvax’s voice: "I’ve bought us time. Meet me at the ship, get it ready to leave at once..."

Owen started moving. Behind him, explosions echoed through the district. The clash of Tier 4 power. Buildings shook. Dust rained from above.