The ice dragon stood in a sea of fire.

A monstrous flame, but it seems to have no temperature. This unrealistic feeling, as well as the buzzing, buzzing in the ears, made the ice dragon wakely certain in his dream that it was a dream.

It's had countless dreams like this in a day. Sea of fire, snow peaks, starry sky, desert, deep sea...... It passes through the memories of its ancestors, through its own memories, and through the memories of this world, but every dream is fleeting, bits and pieces overlapping and intertwined, and when it wakes up, it melts like a snowflake in the sun, leaving nothing, and when it enters the dream again, it quietly shows a faint trace for it, let it remember, it has come.

It waited for the bubble of the dream to burst, and even waited a little bored, and then realized that the dream seemed a little unusual because it realized that it was actually starting to get bored.

It's stable.

The ice dragon stood in the flames, thinking seriously about what it was supposed to do.

It was sleepy, sleepy even in a dream, and its brain was slimy, like a pot of batter that had been overcooked and was so thick that it couldn't shake it so hard. As an ice dragon, it instinctively hates the flames that surround it, and although it can't show the slightest fear, it tries to shrink itself as small as possible, tense from the neck to the tip of its tail...... But the flames seemed to be interested in it, and were too enthusiastic to pounce on it.

It raised its claws to wield a mischievous flame, but found that an oak leaf was stuck to its claws, and it was also green and glowing with vitality in the flames, and it could not shake it off, as if it had grown in its scales.

It spread its paws and licked the leaf gravely.

...... It's a little cool.

The coolness poked a thin hole in its head, and then a thoughtful bubble finally bulged out of the "batter".

It looked at the leaf, vaguely remembering what it really was, but ...... What is "real"?

As it began to wonder, the edges of the oak leaf faded into a green glow, until it became a single ball of light, a faint light in the shape of an oak leaf.

- A mark.

It thought it should know, but it just couldn't remember it now.

The faint green light passed through its palm, or perhaps because its claws were beginning to take on a different shape.

Its scales, flesh and bones, all turned into faint, translucent shadows.

...... I became a ghost.

It thought, panicking, and then reassuring itself: it's okay, it's just a dream. You listen, the guy is still buzzing, buzzing.

The green light flickered slightly, up and down. The ice dragon looked at it, his gaze unconsciously falling on his translucent body, looking at the lights and lines that made it up, and concentrating.

It never knew its body...... Or the soul, it turned out to be like this. It's like a land, with mountains and rivers intersecting, jungles and deserts scattered among them, each with its own different colors and powers.

It gradually felt the green light trying to do something—trying to connect some of its broken parts, trying to remind it what to do.

It's funny.

It was in high spirits, completely unaware of the danger, much less that its instinctive vigilance had been slowly worn away by one dream after another. It connects lakes and rivers, makes the frozen earth bloom in spring, but also makes the snow forever occupy the top of the mountain, it hates the abyss that has no light to illuminate, the swamp that exudes the smell of corruption, but they are also part of this world, which cannot be discarded or removed, but can only be reluctantly stuffed into the corners, it connects the lines of the same color, and weaves the patterns it wants with different colors, and it falls on the gems that shine like stars, and looks at them complacently...... It also saw the black mist, hanging over the dark sea.

An indissoluble darkness envelops the source of its power, and thus entangles all its masterpieces. It may lie dormant here forever, or it can burst out in an instant, drowning everything.

It sensed the great threat, but it was helpless. It needs a bright enough light, or flame, to dispel such darkness.

...... Fire.

When it thought of this—of the flames that surrounded it—it was finally able to withdraw from its own soul world and see what was hidden beneath it.

The spark that had once burned in Mulder's body chose a new place to live.

It's burrowed into its body, but that's clearly not the only thing it needs. It needs its soul to be able to accept it, otherwise it will burn uncontrollably, and its flame cannot be extinguished by rain.

The ice dragon pondered, surprised that he wasn't so angry.

It's not that there are no options. It could close the door and let the spark return to Mulder's body, and restore everything to its original state. But......

What is delivered to it, why not?

“...... It's you who want to come in. It said, suppressing a little guilt and guilt.

And so the flames poured in.

It could have burned everything, it had the power to destroy, but it just rejoiced silently, and found a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes on the silver sand by the sea, and fell into his gravelly hands, like a weary bird, folded its wings, and perched quietly.

The ice dragon looked at the little boy, at itself.

The world was formed in his hands, even if it was broken and chaotic, even if it was swallowed up by the waves again and again, it always had an immortal vitality.

He was never as fragile as he thought he was.

It lowered its head—the whole world bowed its head, and gently touched the boy's tiptoeing hand.

In the next moment, the young man with blond hair and golden eyes held the small spark and looked back at the sea, his black vertical pupils half open, calm and dangerous.

The dark and dreary sea was rippling with waves, revealing a deep blue in the bright light of the fire, and the waves shrank back and forth, and carefully rolled up onto the beach again, and there was a melting warmth in a world that had always been soaked in the cold, and the grass and trees grew wildly, and the streams were jubilant...... It was the scenery he wanted.

The black mist still hung high above the sea, but it could no longer soak everything...... It is no longer the only center of this world.

.

Is's eyes snapped open, and Ed was eagerly probing over.

"What's wrong?" he cried, "you're glowing!"

Isis only had time to reply with two words: "Go away!"

Ed stepped back aggrieved, thinking that "walking away" was a little better than "getting out of the way...... And then stayed there in a daze.

In his eyes, the white dragon was stretching its wings, a sight he was used to, but at this moment, golden red light flowed from the ice dragon's snow-white scales, and the steaming water vapor rolled like fire in the night.

He saw a golden dragon born out of fire and water.