Jelo stammered, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words that wouldn't come. His mind was racing, panic setting in as he tried to figure out what to say, how much to reveal, whether lying was even an option anymore.

Olmo's eyes narrowed slightly, and he cut through Jelo's hesitation with a single, firm statement. "We'll talk. Alone. Once we're back at the academy."

His tone made it clear the subject was serious. There was no room for negotiation, no possibility of brushing this off or changing the subject. Olmo's voice carried the weight of authority, but also something else—concern, maybe, or wariness. Whatever Jelo was, Olmo needed to know, and he wasn't going to let this slide.

Jelo swallowed hard and nodded, unable to meet Olmo's gaze. His stomach twisted with anxiety. What would he even say? How could he explain something he barely understood himself?

Before anything else could happen, Atlas woke.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion evident in his expression as he stared up at the sky. His brow furrowed, and he blinked several times, as if trying to clear his vision or make sense of where he was.

"What… what's going on?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse and weak.

Mira immediately checked if he was alright. She leaned over him, her hands hovering near his shoulders, her face a mixture of relief and worry. "Atlas! Can you hear me? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

"I'm fine," Atlas said, though his voice didn't sound entirely convincing. He shifted, trying to push himself upright. "What happened? Why am I—"

Jelo pressed him back down . His hand was firm on Atlas's chest, preventing him from rising. "Don't move yet. You were in terrible condition earlier. Just… just stay down for a minute."

Atlas frowned, clearly not appreciating being told what to do, but he didn't have the strength to resist. "Terrible condition? What are you talking about?"

Jelo hesitated, unsure how to explain.

"You weren't breathing," Ken said flatly, his voice devoid of its usual humor or sarcasm. "Your pulse was basically gone. You were done, man. Finished."

Atlas's eyes widened, alarm flickering across his face. "What? I was—what?"

"Yeah," Ken continued, his expression grim. "If Jelo hadn't done… whatever he did, you'd be dead right now. No question."

Atlas stared at Jelo, his confusion deepening. "What did you do?"

Jelo shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. He didn't want to have this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now. "I… I added you to my family."

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Atlas said slowly, his brow furrowing. "What does that even mean?"

Jelo looked to Olmo, not sure whether to reveal his secret to a teacher, but Olmo just sighed dramatically, turned on his heel, excused himself to the corner, and left Jelo to handle it.

"I'll be over there monitoring the situation if you need me". He said.

Jelo stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Atlas and Ken. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm a dragon."

Silence.

Atlas and Ken both stared at him, their expressions blank, as if they were waiting for the punchline to a joke that hadn't come yet.

"You're a… what?" Ken said finally.

"A dragon," Jelo repeated, his voice quiet but steady. "I don't know how, or why, or what it means exactly, but I am. I've got dragon abilities. Fire. Claws. And now, apparently, the ability to bind people to my family."

Atlas struggled to process this, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "A dragon. You're telling me you're a dragon."

"Yes."

"Like… an actual dragon."

"Yes."

Ken rubbed his face with both hands, groaning. "This is insane. This is actually insane."

Jelo shrugged. "I don't understand it all either, but apparently, dragons are real, and they've been living on Earth this whole time, just… hidden. Staying out of sight."

"Why?" Atlas demanded. "Why hide?"

Jelo shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe because of people who'd freak out if they knew."

Atlas's gaze shifted to Mira, who had been standing quietly to the side, her expression carefully neutral. His eyes narrowed.

"You're not surprised," Atlas said slowly, accusation creeping into his tone. "You already knew, didn't you?"

Mira hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

"How long?"

"A while," she admitted quietly.

"Of course you did." Atlas muttered in an angry tone. "You've just been friends for a short while but he tells you."

Jelo winced. "That's not important now, you're part of my family. The Milon family. It's a dragon thing. The ritual created a bond between us."

"What kind of bond?"

Jelo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It… it creates loyalty. Between us. You're connected to me now."

Atlas scoffed, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I was already loyal to you without any magic."

He turned to Mira, his expression cold and mocking. "Guess all your efforts never earned you that kind of bond, huh?"

Mira frowned, surpised at Atlas's behavior

The tension in the air was suffocating. Ken shifted uncomfortably, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

At that moment, the air distorted.

It started as a shimmer, like heat rising off pavement, but it quickly grew more pronounced. The space in front of them rippled and twisted, reality bending in on itself. A low hum filled the air, vibrating through their bones.

A portal tore open.

The tear was jagged and violent, edges crackling with energy. Light spilled through, bright and blinding, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. The portal stabilized after a moment, forming a perfect oval suspended in midair.

And then they stepped through.

The three masters emerged.

First was Rein, tall and imposing. She stood well over six feet, her broad shoulders and muscular frame radiating strength and authority. She wore a military-style coat that billowed slightly as she moved, and her eyes—cold and piercing—swept over the scene with practiced efficiency. There was something regal about her, something that demanded respect and obedience without a single word being spoken.

Beside her was Dumo, slightly shorter but no less intimidating. His frame was compact and wiry, built for speed rather than raw power. His face was angular, almost foxlike, with sharp cheekbones and a thin mouth that rarely smiled. His eyes were quick and calculating, always moving, always assessing. He wore lighter armor, designed for mobility, and his hands rested casually near the hilts of the twin blades strapped to his waist.

And finally, Sunny.

He was the smallest of the three, but his presence was no less commanding.

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