I'm an Extra, so What?

One Day Later – Western Forest, Following the Song

The music didn't stop.

It wasn't loud. Not disruptive. But it persisted, like wind through hollow reeds. A melody on the edge of hearing, sometimes ahead of them, sometimes behind.

But Snow always knew where to go.

He would lift his head, ears twitching, and tilt slightly left—or right—then take off in that direction. No hesitation.

Luka trusted him.

The others followed in silence.

Serene was unusually quiet. Arthur, too. They all felt it—that something was guiding them. And it wasn't hostile… just old.

Not far from the obelisk site, the woods changed. Gnarled oaks gave way to tall white-barked trees, their leaves glowing faintly gold. Vines bloomed with gentle bioluminescence, draping over branches like veils.

"Have you ever seen trees like these?" Serene asked, brushing her fingers across one. The bark shimmered under her touch like water catching sunlight.

"No," Luka said. "This place isn't on any map."

Arthur, walking a few paces behind, muttered, "Because we were never meant to find it."

Snow landed on Luka's shoulder and gave a high-pitched chirp. Then took off again, leading them through a narrow canyon of quartz-like stone.

At its end… the canyon opened into a glade.

And there, rising from the earth like the prow of a buried ship, was a temple.

Built entirely of silverstone and living roots. Dragon motifs carved into every surface—wings, fangs, curled tails, and suns. Pillars rose high into the trees, partially broken but still standing. The entrance was an open arch shaped like a dragon's jaw.

Luka stepped forward instinctively.

"Wait," Serene said. "It might be—"

The music shifted.

And the archway glowed.

Soft blue light spilled across the stone floor like dawn breaking.

The temple had recognized them.

No—recognized Snow.

The baby dragon fluttered down in front of the group and walked calmly into the light.

Luka followed without a word.

Inside the Temple

The interior was vast.

A single chamber the size of a cathedral, with columns like ancient trees reaching toward a sky they could no longer see. In the center of the floor, etched into silverstone, was a giant mosaic—a dragon curled protectively around a burning sun.

Above it hovered a ring of floating crystals, each glowing softly in turn as the song played.

Snow approached the mosaic.

And sat.

The crystals spun faster. The song grew louder.

Arthur's hand twitched toward his sword.

Luka raised a hand. "Don't."

Snow looked up.

And for the first time—spoke.

Not in words.

But in images.

Each crystal flashed, and their minds were flooded with memory—not their own, but someone else's. Someone older.

A great wyrm soaring over cities made of glass and stone. Dragons breathing life into rivers and ley lines. Obelisks being seeded not as weapons, but as anchors—to stabilize the mana that once flowed like oceans.

Then—

A crack in the sky.

A fall.

The memory skipped.

Flashes of war. Betrayal. Someone corrupted the anchors. Twisted them. One by one the dragons fell—or vanished. Some hid their kin. Others buried the anchors.

And in the final flash—

A dying dragon curling around a silver egg.

Protecting it.

Hiding it.

Snow.

The vision faded.

The crystals dimmed.

Silence.

Luka staggered slightly, heart pounding.

Serene looked pale. "That was a memory imprint."

Arthur exhaled, hand finally dropping from his sword. "He's… not just a baby dragon."

Luka turned slowly toward Snow.

"You're one of the last."

Snow wasn't actually the Dragon's Queen's child...

Snow blinked at him. Then gave a small, sad chirp.

Serene knelt beside one of the crystals. "The obelisks weren't always evil. They were part of something else. Something ancient."

Luka nodded. "And now someone's trying to repurpose them."

Arthur's face was unreadable.

"But the question is—why awaken this one now?"

As if in answer, the ground trembled.

A low, distant rumble shook the temple.

Luka stood and looked toward the entrance.

"…We're not alone."

Outside the Temple

A dark cloud was forming above the trees.

Not a storm—something moving.

A mass.

Flying.

It screeched once—a monstrous, otherworldly sound that rattled the leaves off nearby trees.

Snow hissed and launched into the sky, circling fast.

Luka unsheathed both blades. "Arthur—on the ridge. Cover fire."

Arthur nodded and sprinted.

Serene took the left flank. Gregor, still grim-faced, hefted his axe and took center.

The cloud descended—

And resolved into dozens of corrupted skybeasts. Wyverns, harpies, even a malformed wind drake. All twisted by rot, but moving as one, bound by something darker.

"They're here for the temple!" Serene shouted.

"No," Luka said, staring upward.

"They're here for Snow."

You said:contiue

ChatGPT said:

Let's continue right away—focusing on the temple defense and Snow's awakening, as the sky darkens and the ancient power begins to stir in full.

Chapter Title: "Wings of the First Flame"

Temple Glade – Seconds Before Impact

The sky tore open.

Not from lightning or thunder—but wings.

Black, twisted, shrieking wings.

Corrupted wyverns descended in droves, their shrieks rattling the stone columns. Harpies with bone-threaded feathers spiraled toward the temple like arrows. And at the back, gliding silently, came a massive winged shape—its scales slick with rot, eyes gleaming crimson.

A Corrupted Wind Drake.

Level: 45.

And very, very angry.

"Contact in five!" Luka barked, leaping onto the temple steps. "Snow, inside! Don't let them reach the crystals!"

Snow hesitated. He didn't want to leave Luka.

But he chirped once, then darted back into the glowing chamber—toward the ancient mosaic that had awakened the song.

Gregor was the first to meet the charge. His axe howled through the air, splitting the first corrupted boar-bird hybrid in two before it could touch ground.

"Come on then!" he roared. "Let's see what rots first—you or me!"

Serene moved beside him, her shield glowing with holy light. She slammed it into the ground, creating a dome of radiant mana just as the first wave of beasts hit.

Luka danced around the edge, blades flashing like silver fire, cutting tendons and eyes, slipping between strikes like shadow given form.

And Arthur?

He stood atop the broken pillar to the north, bow drawn.

Every arrow he loosed was tipped in raw mana, empowered by the leyline itself. One after another, winged beasts fell from the sky—some shrieking, some exploding into bursts of dark mist.

But they just kept coming.

Serene called out, "There's too many!"

Then—

A roar shook the mountain.

The corrupted drake landed hard, cracking the stone with its bulk. It opened its maw, and a wave of black wind slammed into Serene's shield, shattering it.

She went flying backward, skidding across the steps.

Luka snarled and threw both blades into the drake's eye—but they barely pierced its scales.

"Arthur!" Luka shouted.

"I see it!"

The archer jumped from his perch, sliding down a sloped wall and landing behind the drake. He raised a mana arrow, aimed for the base of its spine—and fired.

The drake twisted, faster than anything that big should be.

Its tail slammed into Arthur, flinging him like a ragdoll across the field. He crashed into a tree—and didn't get up.

Luka's heart sank.

Then the drake turned toward the temple.

Toward the crystals.

Toward Snow.

"NO!" Luka ran—but he was too far.

The drake reared back, ready to unleash its breath—

And the temple sang.

All at once.

Louder than before. Clearer.

The ancient song became a roar of harmony and fire.

And from the chamber—

Snow emerged.

But not the same Snow.

Not the tiny, awkward baby dragon Luka had raised from a hatchling.

He glowed.

Snow's body had grown—just slightly, no bigger than a wolf—but his wings were wide, trailing radiant threads of light. Horns curled back from his head, glowing gold at the tips. His white scales shimmered like glass under starlight, and his eyes… his eyes were older than time.

He opened his mouth.

And spoke.

Not in words.

In flame.

A column of pure silver fire blasted forth, striking the drake square in the chest and searing away the corruption. It howled—not in pain, but in terror—as the rot burned from its core.

Snow roared again—higher, clearer.

Then shot upward like a comet.

Luka barely kept his footing as the leyline beneath the temple surged in response.

Arthur, groaning and dazed, blinked up to see a glowing dragon streak across the sky and slam headfirst into the corrupted horde. Flames detonated in concentric rings. The air split. Monsters died screaming.

By the time the blast cleared, the sky was empty.

Not a single beast remained alive.

Only the soft sound of the song returning to its original melody—gentle and slow.

Snow landed beside Luka, panting, smoke curling from his mouth.

His body began shrinking again—returning to his small, clumsy form.

But the glow in his eyes remained.

Serene sat up, bruised and dazed. Gregor wiped black sludge off his axe.

Arthur limped over, blood on his brow.

Luka placed a hand on Snow's head. "You remembered."

Snow chirped quietly.

Then a voice—clear, ancient, echoing—rose from the temple's inner walls.

Not Snow's. Not any of theirs.

But the temple itself.

"The First Flame awakens. The anchors must be cleansed."

"Three remain…"

"And then... He returns."

The crystals flared once, then dimmed.

And silence fell again.

Luka stared at the others.

"Who's he?"

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

But far, far away…

In a ruined tower beyond the horizon...

Someone smiled.

And whispered:

"Finally. They've found the hatchling."