My original form, or the dragon?

"The central district," Zephyros says, his voice low and deliberate, as he sits in his chair. The chair spins slowly in the empty white room, its walls covered in chaotic scribbles, cryptic signs, and shapes—pyramids standing out prominently among the chaos.

He stops spinning, the chair creaking faintly. "I suppose it is time for the elimination of the Free Dominion," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. carrying a chill that cuts through the room.

A tube suddenly materializes in the room, its sleek surface gliding through the white void. Two figures step out—a man, bound in chains, thrashing and screaming, his face obscured, and a humanoid dragon, towering and imposing. The man collapses to the floor, writhing, his pleas echoing in the sterile space. 

"Please, please!" the man screams the instant his feet touch the floor. He collapses, rolling frantically as if trying to flee an unseen terror.