My Dragon System

CHAPTER 003

Coach Whitaker did not believe in easy practices.

By Thursday afternoon, Ashford House's Games team had run twelve laps, endured four rounds of obstacle drills, and been yelled at in three different dialects of disappointment. 

The primary squad took their positions on the field while the alternates sat on the bleachers with water bottles and the kind of hopeless patience that comes from being second string.

Caleb sat at the end of the bench, watching Danny Okafor try to leap a low wall with a rank C Spring System. Danny cleared it, barely, and landed in a heap.

"Ugly," Marcus whispered beside him. "But it counts." "Does it?"

"Technically."

Caleb glanced down at his own hands. Since the night of the awakening, the Dragon Sovereign System had given him a new daily quest every morning at five o'clock. 

He had finished all of them. The windows had become a quiet ritual, a thing he did before dawn while the world slept.

[Daily Quest Complete. Strength plus 1. Endurance plus 1. Total Hours Trained: 4.] [Hatchling Progress: 14 percent.]

His stats had crept up slowly, steadily, a few points at a time. Strength was 15 now. Speed was 14. Endurance was 18. They were nothing compared to Brandon Cole's numbers, but they were climbing.

"Turner!"

Coach Whitaker was staring directly at him. Caleb sat up straight. "Yes, sir?"

"Danny's ankle is swollen. Take his spot for the next drill."

The bench went quiet. Danny, hopping on one foot, looked relieved. Sophie Grant frowned at Caleb as though a sheep had been drafted into a rugby game.

"Coach," Sophie said carefully. "Turner's rank F." "I'm aware."

"The next drill is a live-fire obstacle."

"I'm aware of that too, Grant."

Sophie gave Caleb a long look, and then she shrugged. "Good luck."

The drill was called the Gauntlet. It was a two-hundred-yard course packed with rotating spiked beams, pits of fake mud, and moving walls that shoved competitors sideways. 

Real Games events were harsher. This was only practice.

Caleb took his place at the starting line beside Jason Bell, a lanky junior with a rank B Wind System. Jason smirked at him sideways.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

 "Somebody has to."

"Fair."

Coach Whitaker blew the whistle.

Jason shot ahead on a cushion of air, vaulting the first beam like it was a hurdle at a track meet. Caleb ran after him, his heart hammering. 

The first spiked beam swung toward his head and he ducked low, feeling Ember Sense flare in his chest. He could see the heat of the machinery behind the walls. He could feel where the next beam would swing before it moved.

[Ember Sense: Predicting Obstacle Pattern.]

He ducked. Rolled. Leapt. A moving wall slid across his path and he skidded under it with an inch to spare.

On the bleachers, someone gasped.

Ahead of him, Jason was struggling in the fake mud pit. His wind cushion kept sputtering out, and he was sinking to his knees. 

Caleb ran straight through the mud, slipping once, nearly falling, then pushing off the bottom with legs that felt like steel springs.

The last obstacle was a high wall with a rope. Jason reached it first, grabbed the rope, and began to climb. Caleb didn't use the rope. He jumped.

He did not even think about it. His legs coiled and released, and he cleared the top of the wall in a single bound, landing on the far side in a crouch. 

The finish line lay twenty yards ahead. He sprinted across it just two seconds behind Jason.

Silence.

Then Coach Whitaker let out a long, low whistle. "Turner," he said slowly. "How the hell did you do that?"

Caleb stood there breathing hard, his face as blank as he could manage. "I... practiced a little, sir."

"Practiced." Coach Whitaker walked over and looked him up and down. His eyes were sharp and thoughtful.

 "Practiced."

"Yes, sir."

"I've been coaching for thirty years, son. Nobody practices their way from a four to that." He rubbed his chin. "Let me see your system."

Caleb's blood ran cold. "Sir?"

"Show me your status window. All of it."

[Warning: Host should not reveal true system. Display false information.]

Caleb lifted his hand, and a pale gray window appeared in the air. It was a copy of his old Basic Student interface, projected on command.

[Name: Caleb Turner. System: Basic Student. Rank: F. Level: 1. Strength: 4.]

Coach Whitaker studied it for a long moment. "Level one," he said slowly. "Strength four." 

"Yes, sir."

"Doesn't add up."

"I got lucky on the course, sir."

Coach Whitaker looked at him a little longer. Then, to Caleb's surprise, he nodded.

"Luck, then. Fine. I've seen weirder." He raised his voice. "Listen up! Turner's on the roster as a backup runner for Event One. Danny's out. That's final."

A murmur went through the team. Sophie raised an eyebrow. Jason shrugged. Marcus, on the bench, stared at Caleb as if he'd never seen him before.

Later, in the locker room, Marcus cornered him between the benches.

"Okay," Marcus whispered. "Something is going on. I know your stats. You're an F. I've scanned you a hundred times. You can't jump that high."

"I've been working out." "Working out doesn't do that."

 "Marcus."

"I'm your best friend. I'm going to figure it out. I'm just telling you."

Caleb looked at him for a long moment. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, about the voice in his head and the fire in his chest and the way the world had changed overnight.

But the system's warning flashed quietly in the corner of his vision.

[A hatchling that announces itself gets eaten.]

"I'll tell you eventually," Caleb said quietly. "I promise. Not yet." Marcus stared at him. Then, to Caleb's relief, he nodded.

"Fine. But if it's illegal, I want to be an accessory."

 "Deal."

That evening, as the sun dipped below the mountains, Caleb sat on the roof of his apartment building with his knees pulled to his chest. 

The sky was streaked with orange and violet. Below him, Denver glittered like a field of sparks.

A new window opened in front of him.

[New Quest: The First Trial.]

[Objective: Compete in the Crown Games Opening Event without revealing your true strength.] [Reward: Ember Core Level 2. Dragon Heart plus 5. Hidden Skill unlocked.] [Penalty for failure: None. But failure is boring.]

Caleb laughed under his breath. "You're really something."

[I am a Dragon. Dragons are famous for being something.]

He closed his eyes and felt the warm coal in his chest. It pulsed gently. Steady. Patient. Waiting.

Down the hill, a school bus was pulling away from the Ridgemont front gates. The sound of laughter drifted up on the wind. For the first time in a year, Caleb Turner did not hate the sound.

He had five days until the Games began, a secret nobody could know, and a father he was going to find.

He pressed his palm against the pendant. It was still warm.

"Okay," he whispered. "Let's see what a hatchling can do."