Chapter 4: The Awakening

The dawn broke quietly over the jungle, the pale light cutting through the heavy canopy in soft, filtered beams. I had spent the night high up in the trees, nestled in the safety of branches, away from predators and dangers that lurked below. But as the morning air filled my lungs, I knew that I couldn't stay hidden for long.

My body was weak. The thirst, the hunger—it all gnawed at me like a constant reminder that I wasn't in control. The world outside felt alien, dangerous, and unforgiving. But it was the world I had to survive in now.

I climbed down from the tree slowly, my limbs stiff with soreness, each step a reminder of how fragile I still was. My wings fluttered nervously against my back, small and useless. They weren't a source of power or defense yet. But the more I moved, the more I realized that I had to push past the weakness. This was not the time to be cautious. It was the time to adapt, or be consumed.

I made my way back to the stream, the same one I had nearly died at the day before. The rippling water beckoned, and I could feel my body desperate for its cool touch. The ground felt damp beneath my claws, and as I neared the stream, I could already taste the coolness in the air.

I dropped to my belly, careful not to let my guard down. My reflection caught my eye as I leaned in to drink.

For a moment, I didn't recognize myself.

I stared at the creature in the water, confusion and shock seizing me. The creature looking back was small—much smaller than I had imagined. Its scales shimmered a dark shade, and the shape of its body, though dragon-like, was still underdeveloped. A horned head, large for its body, stared back at me with wide, confused eyes. And the shape of my wings, folded tightly against my back, looked clumsy and weak.

But it was the face that shocked me most—the eyes, the sleek, smooth shape of my snout. It was as if I had been reborn as a small, pitiful version of something… familiar.

I looked like a baby Drogon.

A baby Drogon.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The shock of it hit me all at once, and I stumbled backward in horror, my claws slipping against the muddy bank as I scrambled away from the water.

I hadn't come here to confront some ridiculous, twisted reality. I had come here to drink, to survive, and now all I could do was stare at myself, a small, pathetic creature that reminded me of something from a show I had watched in another life.

How had this happened? Why did I look like this?

It didn't matter.

I didn't have time to dwell on it.

My heart raced in my chest, and I quickly turned my back on the reflection, running away from the water, as fast as my tiny legs could carry me. I didn't know what was out there—what might be waiting—but I knew that the longer I stayed near the water, the greater the risk of something finding me.

I hadn't learned to fly, hadn't learned how to defend myself. And whatever else this jungle had in store for me, I was too weak to face it head-on. I wasn't going to be eaten because I had spent too much time staring at my reflection.

I didn't know why this world felt so familiar yet so wrong, but that didn't matter now. I had to survive. And in order to do that, I needed strength.

The hunger gnawed at my insides, but it wasn't just physical hunger—it was a hunger for survival. The desperation in my gut was almost as sharp as the fear that drove me away from the stream. But there was another realization that followed close behind: I wasn't just eating for the sake of eating anymore. I was eating because I had learned something important.

The insects.

They made me stronger.

At first, I had eaten them out of necessity, driven by hunger and survival instinct. But now I knew that each time I forced myself to consume one of those small, wriggling creatures, my body reacted. I could feel it—my muscles, though still weak, seemed to twitch and grow. My scales, though small, began to shimmer a little brighter, and a faint pulse of energy surged through my veins.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to make me realize: the more I ate, the stronger I became.

It was a simple, harsh truth. And it made me feel something I hadn't felt since arriving in this new form: hope.

I wasn't helpless. I could get stronger, one insect at a time.

I moved through the dense underbrush, searching for the small creatures that had made my survival possible. As I passed by trees and overgrowth, I saw several insects crawling along the bark, their tiny legs twitching as they moved. The instinct to eat them was automatic now—my body recognized the need, and my mind didn't hesitate.

I reached up with one of my small claws, snatching an insect from the branch. It squirmed briefly, but I crushed it in my mouth without hesitation. The taste was still unpleasant, but my body didn't care. The moment I swallowed it, I could feel the faintest surge of strength course through me.

Another insect.

Then another.

And as I ate, I forced myself to reflect on the bigger picture. I wasn't eating because I was starving. No, I was eating because I knew I needed to get stronger. This world was full of dangers—more dangerous than anything I could have ever imagined. But I wasn't powerless. Not if I could keep growing.

Every bite, every insect consumed, was one step closer to becoming something more. Something capable of surviving.

I stayed in the dense jungle, moving from tree to tree, snatching up bugs whenever I could find them. The thought of stopping didn't cross my mind. I couldn't afford to stop. Not when I knew that every bite would bring me closer to strength.

I didn't know how long I would have to live like this. I didn't know if I would ever truly be free of the fear, the hunger, the weakness. But I knew one thing: this world wouldn't wait for me to catch up. It wouldn't let me live just because I wanted to.

I had to fight for it.

And so, I ate. I ate until my body no longer trembled from weakness, until my legs felt a little more sturdy, and my wings—though still useless—felt a little lighter.

Maybe one day, I would be able to stand up to the predators lurking in the shadows. Maybe one day, I would learn how to use the strength growing inside me.

But for now, I would survive. I would eat. And I would grow stronger.

Because that was the only way out of this jungle alive.