Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

Because of her sudden growth in height and the more toned definition of her body, the hospital-issued patient top was now noticeably tighter on her. It barely reached her mid-thigh, and worse, the fabric stretched a little too much around her chest.

Lila blinked, confused for a second. Then she followed Anzo’s gaze down—

—and immediately yelped, her face exploding into red. She hunched over, arms crossing tightly around herself in an attempt to cover up. “D-Don’t look!” she squeaked, her whole body trembling with embarrassment.

Axel coughed into his fist and abruptly turned his back. “Right. Not looking. Not looking at all.”

Alister pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. “Alright. You guys can step out and let her get dressed.”

Axel groaned but obeyed, dragging Anzo out with him, who still refused to look directly at Lila. Even Blitz followed, though not before flashing Lila a teasing grin.

Lila, still flustered, stammered, “B-But my old clothes—! They won’t fit anymore!”

Alister locked eyes with Lila. His pupils narrowed into slits, his golden irises glowing softly.

“You simply need to revert back,” he said.

Lila’s breath hitched as she stared into his eyes. For a moment, she felt something—something strange yet familiar. It was as if her body was responding to his will, obeying a silent command she hadn’t even realized was given.

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt the shift begin. Her tail slowly receded, pulling back into her body. The slight weight of her horns vanished as they withdrew into her skull. Her height decreased just a little, her form settling back into something closer to her original size.

She blinked, slightly dazed. “I… I did it?” she murmured, touching her head where the horns had been.

Alister simply turned away as if it was nothing. “Alright. That should fit now.” His tone was final, already moving past the moment.

As Alister turned away from Lila, a familiar voice echoed in his mind—it was a telepathic message from Draven.

~’My Lord, I have found a strange red portal. Its energy is… unnatural—suggesting foul intent lingers within.’

Before Alister could respond, another voice joined in, this one rough and steady.

~’My Lord, I have also discovered one,’ a second dragon reported. ‘It is radiating a foul aura as well.’

A third voice followed, this one female. ‘Same here. And, my Lord… it appears humans in armor are gathering around them.’

Alister’s pupils narrowed. ‘A dungeon raid?’

Draven’s voice echoed again. ‘My Lord, what are your orders?’

…

…

The harsh fluorescent lights in Union Lab Theta-9 flickered slightly, casting shadows across the sterile, white-tiled room. Reinforced glass walls separated the experiment chamber from the observation area, where a handful of Union scientists stood in tense silence, eyes fixed on the lone figure inside.

Claus.

Sweat dripped down his temple as he hovered over his cluttered workstation. His lab coat was stained with chemicals and blood—his own, from the constant pricks of syringes and sharp instruments.

His left hand twitched uncontrollably, grotesquely mutated, pulsing with a deep blackish-blue hue. Veins bulged along his arm, tendrils creeping up his neck.

He grimaced, glancing down at his research logs. Pages and pages of failed formulas. Countless attempts at slowing the mutation.

“Focus,” he muttered, voice strained. “Think, Claus. You’re running out of time.”

His Moon All-Seeing Eye was uncovered, glowing brilliant blue as it analyzed the vials before him.

[A/N: bunch of made up terms here ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ.]

Aeriostatin-B12. A neural stabilizer—previous tests proved it temporarily halted cognitive decline, but it did nothing to slow the physical changes. Useless.

Ferroxilin Compound-17. A failed suppressant. It had reduced cellular decay but triggered violent seizures. Almost killed him the last time he injected it.

Zynthex-T3. Originally designed as a nerve agent, Claus had repurposed it to suppress volatile energy spikes—but it only worked for two minutes before his body rejected it.

He growled in frustration, slamming a gloved fist onto the table. The force cracked a glass beaker, spilling neon-blue liquid across the surface.

One of the younger scientists watching flinched. “Sh-should we go in there?”

The senior researcher, a woman in her fifties, shook her head. “No. He ordered us to stay out. And frankly…” She exhaled. “He’s the only one who understands this mutation well enough to fight it.”

Inside, Claus took a shaky breath, trying to calm the roaring rage building in his chest. He knew the mutation heightened aggression. The more he lost control, the closer he got to becoming a monster.

He grabbed a nearby notepad and violently crossed out another failed combination. The sound of the pen scratching against paper was almost deafening in the silence.

“Damn it! Damn it all!” he suddenly roared, gripping the edge of the table and flipping it over. Glass shattered. Vials rolled across the floor.

The scientists outside gasped.

Claus stood there, panting, hands trembling.

Then he forced himself to breathe. In. Out. His mutated fingers twitched, but he ignored them.

“…I can’t lose control.” He wiped his face, forcing himself back to the table.

“Think. Think, you bastard. If the rejection rate is this high, that means the mutation isn’t just affecting cellular structure—it’s altering metabolic absorption entirely.”

He grabbed a vial of his own blood sample, watching as the dark fluid writhed in the glass like something alive. He narrowed his glowing blue eye.

“Tch. I’m not even human anymore. That’s the real problem, isn’t it?”

He turned back to his workstation, pulling up his latest notes.

Test 2: Neuroinhibitor Fusion

Zynthex-T3: Temporary dampening of neural feedback.

Sericlastin: Gene replication slowdown.

Result: Complete failure. Increased aggression. Induced minor seizure.

In frustration, he destroyed a chair with his mutated hand.

Claus’ jaw tightened.

He had tried this four times. Each time, the suppressant worked for a minute, maybe two, before his body overrode it. The mutation was adaptive. Learning. Fighting back.

“Of course a virus would fight back.” His voice dripped with bitter amusement.

“Parasite. You don’t just want to take over—you want to consume everything I am. My mind, my body, my soul.”

His left hand spasmed. The grotesque fingers curled into a fist, almost wanting to slam something again as if they belonged to something else.

A deep growl escaped his throat, but he swallowed it down.

“No. Not happening….”

He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders, staring at the formulas again.

There was something missing.

…..

[A/N: I’m sorry for the messed up upload schedule these days guys, my health hasn’t exactly been the best so I had to leave my apartment, get checked and stuff, and take things easy for a bit, so I’m back again and will try doing a mass release. Thanks for understanding! ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗]

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!