Exile

The colors surrounding Tetsuo shifted and twisted, endless and incomprehensible, like a kaleidoscope without pattern. A horizon stretched before him—one beyond human imagination.

He saw colors he had never seen before, colors that shouldn't exist. It was as if the entire spectrum had been unlocked, where before, he had only glimpsed a sliver of reality.

But it wasn't just his sight that had changed. His senses expanded, stretching into concepts he could barely comprehend. He felt something—not air, not movement, but the shape of existence itself.

It was insane.

Then, a voice.

Faint. Distant. Impossible to understand.

It wove through the shifting colors, slipping in and out of recognition. A whisper. A murmur. A presence just out of reach.

Tetsuo strained to hear.

The voice continued—just on the edge of his perception. He wasn't alone.

"Malfunction."

The voice was distant, layered, and mechanical.

"Erroneous soul detected. Executing Program Sigma-6 protocol."

Then came the pull.

Tetsuo felt himself unravel. His very being twisted, stretched, and reformed like taffy caught in a machine, twisted into a new shape that wasn't meant to exist.

"Decreasing Beta-24 protocol."

Something shifted.

A weight he didn't know he carried was suddenly removed. Or added. He wasn't sure.

Something about him changed.

But he had no idea what.

He felt no weaker. No stronger. No different.

"Executing Soul Repositioning System."

His awareness lurched. He was forced into a space that was not his own.

A container. A body moments away from birth.

"Proceeding with soul assignment. Initiating."

And then, suddenly—

For what seemed like an eternity—

For time itself no longer moved the way it once had—

He felt his body again.

At first, it was strange. Distant.

Not the familiar weight of flesh and bone he had always known.

This was something else.

Something new.

Something that didn't quite fit—but at the same time, felt right.

He was contained. Encased.

Heat surrounded him.

He could feel walls pressing against him.

Not in a room. Not in a building.

But something smaller. Warmer. More natural.

And then, for the first time in this new life—

The instincts kicked in.

Move.

Push.

Break free.

He pressed against the hard surface with his face. With all his might, he kept trying to break out, and finally, the wall gave way. It was cold outside the wall, but it was better than in here. He continued to break away at the shell that had been containing him.

He was hatching from an egg!

But what kind of egg?

He finally managed to wrestle himself out of the egg and into the cool air outside. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness of his new environment, he found himself looking up at two mighty dragons.

They were massive. And they were beautiful. He could see them despite how dark it was in here. One was a bright crimson red, while the other was a sapphire blue. Both had red eyes, and they looked down upon him with an expression he couldn't quite understand.

Where was here? It looked like a cave... but where on earth was this? When on earth was this?

"Oh my god... I have been isekai'd! IT REALLY HAPPENS!" he thought in absolute amazement, and just a little bit of horror.

"No... no... no, not like this! I was going to be a mangaka! I was so close to following my dreams! The universe can't be so poorly made as to allow this nonsense!"

The blue dragon then spoke. "Look at him. Look at his stats!"

The red dragon scoffed. "And that rusty orange color... he couldn't even do red right!"

The blue dragon craned her head closer to him, sniffing his body. "It's a male. He may yet prove useful... perhaps. If he's worthy. But I don't see him doing well."

The red dragon snorted. "Why don't we just throw him out already? No son of mine is an F-tier piece of trash!"

"Hush, Rorgah. Let's see if he can prove himself first," the blue dragon said.

Tetsuo blinked.

He tried to stand, but his legs wobbled beneath him, shaking under his own weight. His body felt wrong—fat and rounded, unsteady, unfamiliar.

He could feel his tiny wings twitching at his back, useless and weak.

Slowly, he raised a hand to his face.

It was tiny. Stubby. Four small claws.

He pressed it to his muzzle, feeling the soft scales beneath his touch.

Then he looked back up at the two dragons towering over him.

They looked back, as if expecting something.

Rorgah scoffed. "I'll bet he doesn't even know how to breathe fire, Juzah."

Tetsuo immediately felt terrible.

Like a stone in his gut.

Beaten down. Looked down on.

It was happening again.

He had been pushed around all his previous life—ignored, dismissed, treated as insignificant. And now…

Just minutes into his new one, it was all happening again.

"Life is just unfair sometimes," Tetsuo thought.

But then… something sparked inside him.

"No. If these two want to see me breathe fire, then that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"As weird as this situation is, I won't let anyone—or anything—decide what I can or can't do but me!"

The moment he thought about doing it, something flashed in his vision.

A strange window appeared before his eyes.

"What's this?!"

The glowing blue screen hovered in his vision, no matter where he turned. His heart pounded in his tiny chest.

Lines of text scrolled before him.

[STATUS WINDOW]

Name: — (Name not assigned)

Species: Dragon

Tier: [F-Tier]

Level: 1

XP:0/1000

Vitals:

HP: 30/30

MP: 10/10

Stamina: 50/50

Stats:

Strength: 2

Dexterity: 1

Intelligence: 3

Vitality: 2

Magic Affinity: 2

Resistances:

Fire Resistance: 5

Cold Resistance: 2

Skills:

[Active Skills]

Fire Breath (Lv.1) – Allows the user to exhale flames. Damage: Minimal. Cost: 8 MP.

Claw Attack (Lv.1) – Basic melee attack using claws. Damage: Pathetic.

Bite (Lv.1) – Basic bite attack. Damage: Weak.

Polymorph (Lv.1) – Disguise yourself as another living creature. Cost: 6 MP.

[Passive Skills]

Flight (Lv.0) [Locked] – Insufficient strength to sustain flight. 30 Strength required.

Draconic Regeneration (Lv.1) – Minor passive healing over time. Regenerates 1 HP every 30 minutes.

Heightened Senses (Lv.1) – Enhanced sight, smell, and hearing.

Night Vision (Lv.1) – Can see clearly in low-light environments.

Scaled Hide (Lv.1) – Provides natural damage reduction. Reduces all physical damage by 5%.

Magic Sensitivity (Lv.1) – Can instinctively sense nearby sources of magic, even without formal training.

Instinctual Combat Awareness (Lv.1) – Basic survival instincts allow for improved reaction speed against immediate danger.

Heat Absorption (Lv.1) – Passively absorbs heat from surroundings to maintain body temperature.

Tetsuo stared.

His eyes scanned over the numbers, the skills, the stats.

His Strength was 2? His Dexterity was 1? His Fire Breath was listed as 'Minimal'?

His Bite? 'Weak.'

His Claws? 'Pathetic.'

His Flight? Locked.

And his tier?

F.

F-tier.

His vision blurred as he read it again.

He felt a tightness in his chest—something between disbelief and humiliation.

This had to be a mistake.

"No… no, no, no. I'm a dragon! I just got reincarnated! Why are my stats this low?!"

His mind raced for an explanation.

He had seen games before. He knew what stats should look like. And for a dragon, even a baby, these numbers were—

Pathetic.

The word burned in his mind like a brand.

His own father had just called him trash. And now, staring at these numbers, he was starting to believe it.

He started to believe it.

Started to.

But no…

They just wanted him to breathe fire, right?

Fine. He'd show them.

He wasn't trash!

Tetsuo selected the icon for Fire Breath with his mind and took in a deep inhale.

Then, he let it out.

A sputtering cough.

Smoke puffed weakly from his nostrils, dissipating into the air.

The red dragon closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I think his egg was turned the wrong way," Rorgah muttered.

Tetsuo's heart sank.

No.

No, he wouldn't accept this!

"I will breathe fire!"

"I will show my mother and father that I am worthy of them!"

He selected Fire Breath again.

He inhaled.

This time, when he exhaled—

A single ember flickered from his mouth.

And then—nothing.

Juzah scoffed and laughed. "I have just the name for this one. Hibana!"

Rorgah chuckled as well. "Maybe he might make good entertainment for a while."

Hibana blinked.

He checked his stat screen.

Name Assigned: Hibana.

That was it.

He wasn't even Tetsuo anymore.

Just Hibana.

A pathetic little dragon.

At least, according to his parents.

"Well, what do they know?" he thought bitterly.

"What gods are in charge of heaven that would allow this mockery of existence to occur?"

He shook the thought away. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything.

Instead, he rose to his feet and started exploring the cave.

The walls glowed softly with veins of green crystals, casting an eerie light over the stone.

Further in, he found another chamber.

A hoard.

Piles of gold, jewels, treasure.

His parents' sleeping chamber.

Hibana exhaled.

"Yep. Typical dragon behavior."

It seemed that, in this world, dragons were just as greedy as they were in the stories.

And yeah... their "might makes right" mentality was definitely accounted for.

But where was he, exactly?

That was the real question.

Hibana.

He opened his status window again, staring at the name.

It didn't feel real.

He struggled to come to terms with what he was seeing. This was his new identity. He was no longer Tetsuo Arata. That life—the life of a bespectacled 35-year-old Japanese man, an aspiring artist—was gone.

And this new name? It wasn't a gift. It was a joke. A mockery.

His gaze drifted downward to his sleek but rounded body. His scales gleamed a rusty orange under the dim light, but there was a softness to them—like he hadn't yet hardened into something formidable. His tail felt far heavier than he expected, dragging slightly as he tried to balance. His wings, small and weak, twitched instinctively, as if testing the air they couldn't yet conquer.

Walking was another struggle entirely. His steps wobbled, his weight shifted in unfamiliar ways, and every movement reminded him that this body was nothing like the human one he had once known.

He needed to see himself.

Stumbling closer to the massive hoard of treasure, his eyes locked onto a golden urn with a flawless, reflective surface.

Slowly, hesitantly, he peered into it.

Not a man. Not a person.

A small, triangular head stared back at him—curved, sleek, and unmistakably dragonic. Two tiny nubs jutted from his skull, barely formed but undeniably the beginnings of horns. His eyes, large and a vivid green, glowed faintly in the dim cave light.

He blinked. The reflection did the same.

A slow realization crept over him, something both exhilarating and terrifying.

"This is insane…" His thoughts raced.

"I'm really a dragon."

Then—shuffling.

Footsteps.

Hibana tensed as the sound echoed behind him, the soft clatter of claws against stone.

Two figures emerged from the darkness of the cave, stepping into the dim glow of the treasure hoard.

They were taller. Leaner. Stronger.

Their scales gleamed a deep crimson, their bodies twice his size, their frames built for power. Matching red eyes glowed with smug amusement as they regarded him like a curiosity—an insect beneath their notice.

The first dragonling grinned, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Look at our new brother! Mother said he was pathetic, but I had to see it for myself."

The second one sneered, stepping closer. Hibana's gaze locked onto him, but his instincts screamed that he was outmatched.

"What's the matter, F-tier?" the dragonling taunted, eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Are you so useless you can't even speak?"

Hibana opened his mouth to respond—

But nothing came out.

He tried again, forcing air through his throat, shaping his tongue, willing his body to cooperate.

Nothing but guttural squeaks and rasps.

His throat tightened. His tongue felt thick and uncooperative. The muscles in his jaw moved awkwardly, like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong slot.

The words were in his mind. He understood them perfectly, just as he understood the insults being hurled at him. The language made sense—it felt like his own.

But when he tried to form a response, his own body failed him.

The first dragonling smirked, tail swishing in amusement.

"What's the matter? Hatchling instincts not kicking in?"

The second one sneered. "Maybe he's defective. You know, like the runt he is."

Hibana clenched his jaw. His claws dug into the stone beneath him.

He wasn't stupid. He wasn't broken.

He knew what he wanted to say. But knowing wasn't enough. His body wouldn't just do it.

He had to learn.

Hibana barely had time to process his frustration before a deep, rumbling voice filled the cave.

"Now, children... You know how we are to deal with new siblings?"

The mocking laughter from his siblings stopped immediately. The two crimson dragonlings stiffened and turned to face the approaching figures. Hibana followed their gaze, and his stomach sank.

His parents.

Rorgah loomed over them, his red eyes gleaming with expectation. Juzah stood beside him, her expression unreadable. Though their presence silenced the taunts, Hibana had no illusion that they were here to protect him.

His siblings looked at him again. Their sneers had faded, replaced with something colder. More focused. They were no longer just tormenting him.

They were preparing to fight him.

Hibana's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't stupid—he understood now. This was a test. A rite. A tradition ingrained in dragon society.

A fight for dominance.

A fight for survival.

His legs tensed. His claws pressed against the stone floor. He wasn't a coward. If this was what it took to prove himself, then fine.

But deep down, he already knew the truth.

This wasn't about proving anything. It was about driving him out.

The dragonlings lunged.

Hibana barely dodged the first strike, the wind from his sibling's claws rushing past his face. He scrambled backward, his movements awkward and unsteady. His tail felt heavy, his legs wobbled beneath him. His body wasn't ready for this.

The second dragonling struck, swiping at his side. Hibana twisted to avoid a direct hit, but the attack still clipped his shoulder. Pain flared through him as he stumbled to the ground.

He tried to rise, but they were on him again.

Another strike. Another blow. Each attack sent a new shock of pain through his small body.

He lashed out instinctively, swiping with his claws—

But his strike barely grazed his sibling's scales.

A harsh laugh rang out. "That's all you've got?"

Hibana gritted his teeth. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to show them that he wasn't weak.

But he was.

His body was weak. His flames were weak. His very presence in this world was deemed an insult.

Juzah watched in silence. Rorgah snorted in amusement.

Hibana forced himself up again. He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't cower. If they wanted him gone—fine. But he wouldn't grovel before them.

One final attack sent him sprawling. The pain no longer mattered. He understood now.

This wasn't his home. It never had been.

He slowly rose, standing on shaking legs. His siblings waited for him to collapse again, but he didn't. He met their gazes, his green eyes burning with something deeper than anger.

Defiance.

Then, without another word, he turned away.

And left.

Behind him, his parents said nothing. His siblings didn't chase him. The cavern grew silent as he stepped into the cold unknown.

Hibana didn't look back.

He had no reason to.