"ACTIVATE"

00:00:00 BC

Fifteen minutes before system initialization on Arthos.

Charrose the Merciful, doom of Elvreal, King of Dragons and wielder of the sacred fire... was taking a nap. He found this tiny island in the middle of the ocean, on the far side of the planet. The single super continent of this world was clear on the other side, and a cursory examination of the mana-sphere revealed no extant threats.

Not that much could threaten a dragon anyway.

He dozed, as dragons do, yet still remained half awake. He never truly slept, always needing to be aware if someone was sneaking into his horde or for... other reasons.

The cool tropical wind blew upon his body and cooled his scales. He kept a single thought stream performing routine maintenance. Internal fires? Check. Pure mana-sphere? Check. Development of Lore?

Hmm... seems like the development of Lore is falling behind schedule. I wonder why?

The thought stream took a strand of his internal fire and converted it to pure mana. A single twist of will send it streaking around the planet, searching for the discrepancy.

Ah, the elves are trying to wipe out all non-elves again. And... turns out the dwarves don't like it.

Let's do a future scry then, see how this will turn out.

Another strand of fire joins the spell as he glimpsed countless potential futures.

It looked like the most likely turn of events were the humans being drawn into it. Then the resulting genocide will set back cultural development for a few hundred years. It's possible that the humans might get sent all the way back to the bronze age.

Hmm... yeah, that's not going to happen.

Another strand of fire was gathered and he sent a message to dispatch one of his brethren.

A random dragon will focus everyone's attention nicely. Then everyone can get back to making more stories and discovering new things so I can sleep more.

Charrose's muscles slowly relaxed as potential snarls were unraveled. With the planet back on track, his form gradually loosened, scales rippling down his length. He took a deep breath, and black fire came out on the exhale, dribbling down his chin onto the sandy beach.

Arthos wasn't a bad posting, all in all. The planet was nice enough, humans, elves, dwarves, halflings. Fairly standard material plane. As a middle aged dragon, being assigned to shepherd the planet through it's Age of Wonders was a bit of a boon all in all.

It was certainly an upgrade from his last job. Making sure the elemental plane of slime didn't overflow it's boundries was just a thankless exhausting bore. Thousands of years of flying around the edges, breathing fire to keep the buggers in. He couldn't even blame the slimes really. They were just doing their job. He halfway suspected that the entire plane was a practical joke created by dexterity to give people something to do.

He even got an accolade for his work. Sure, his peers mocked him as Slimemaw the Gooey for a few thousand years, but while they're still grunging around in adminstrative positions, he was promoted to a dragon king. He rolled over on the sand, sinking into the warm sandy beach.

And it's good to be a king.

As his conscious mind continued to doze, the remaining thought stream got back on task. Internal fires? Check. Pure mana-sphere? Check. Development of Lore? Hmm... still slower than expected. It might need artificial stimulation to get back on track. Maybe I should go kidnap a few princesses? I'm not sure what I'd do with them, but I hear it's a popular method on other worlds.

The stream considered the potential impact of that course of action. It decided to conduct another future scry with "kidnapping princesses" as parameters. It received flashes of images, the dragon drinking tea with a young lady, a knight riding valiantly to save her... when the images just cut out. They completely stop, and the stream is confused by the failure.

It reran the scry, over and over, trying to determine why the spell wasn't providing any output. Finally, after dozens of attempts, it received only a single grainy image. It showed Arthos from space, the water evaporated, the atmosphere blasted away. All that remained was the earth itself, crawling with blackened vines and tendrils of flesh. The stream immediately hit the panic button, jolting the dragon awake.

"Huh, wha...?"

It took several long seconds for the dragon to come to his senses and parse through the information. When he did, he rushed to his feet. Breathing deep, he stoked the fires within, pulling out a mass of mana to forge into a spell. A burst of will and the power was shaped, before rocketing into the mana-sphere surrounding Arthos. It was a planetary announcement, burning into the consciousness of all dragon-kind. It said,

"CORRUPTION INCOMING!"

Across the world, dragons erupted from their dens. They formed flights, sectioning off the land and extending their power as they patrolled in a grid pattern, searching for the intruder. Charrose provided coordination support, his various thoughtstreams connecting telepathically with his kindred. Together they gradually created a mental map that encompassed the planet. The dragons reported in,

"Sector 1, all clear."

"Sector 2, all clear."

"Sector 3, all clear."

On and on the dragons reported. There was no sign of infection, no sign of the enemy. Charrose was confused. The planet was covered. The dragons had cordoned off Arthos with their power and together their reach blanketed everything. Yet, the future scry hadn't changed. It still only returned the single image. A grainy picture of a planet almost rotting in half. Sunlight beat down from the sky above and Charose raised his head in thought.

If the planet is covered then...

A glinting light caught his eye. He focused on it, willing his vision sharper as he cast a spell to enhance his sight. Up there, far above in the outer atmosphere a single rock fell. It was small, barely the size of his claw, but it streaked through the sky; accelerating towards him.

Charose reached his will out to the rock, a sinking suspicion beginning to form, and tried to push it back into space. His efforts splashed onto the meteor and were promptly ignored. It even seemed to descend faster.

He quickly crouched and then jumped, flapping his wings to get airborne. He ascended into the sky to meet the meteor in combat. It was glowing red hot, the descent lighting up the stone in a blaze of glory, yet friction seemed ineffective. It maintained it's size and shape as it continued to fall. As it got closer, Charrose flapped his wings, moving to a hover as he opened his maw...

And released his sacred fire.

A ten mile stretch of flame extended into space, striking the crystallized corruption as it fell. The might and fury of his strike was unrivaled in the history of the planet. Charrose spent thousands of years of mana in a single glorious moment. The fires were directed and shaped by his will, solely bent upon the meteors destruction. Otherwise the erupting might would have ignited the planet's atmosphere; turning the world into a burning husk.

As his power ran out, the dragon panted, and appeared haggard in mid-air. He frantically searched the skies with every sense he had, searching desperately to ensure the meteor's total destruction. As he scanned, he let out a measured sigh of relief. There didn't appear to be anything left.

A giant plume of erupting water drew his attention downward.

With a gasp of horror Charrose realized what happened. The thing must have teleported past it's attack. It's in the ocean now, which means... there had to be an intelligence guiding it.

He cast another future scry, trying to confirm his suspicions. The broken planet was no longer a grainy image. It was the only image, the only future... a dead planet drifting alone in space. He quickly dove downwards, racing to the tiny island. He wasn't sure where it might be right now. Especially if an intelligence was guiding it. The dragons didn't have time to search the oceans. There was only one option left for him.

He plowed into the earth, he didn't have time to gently land. He quickly got to his feet and sent a message around the planet. It said,

"Guard the young ones. This old man will be going ahead."

From his kindred, the hundreds of dragons spread throughout the world, none spoke. He could only feel their emotions as it spread across the gestalt.

Sadness and Pride.

He drew on that pride. Drew on the very essence of what it meant to be a dragon. To be a protector of worlds. He lifted a claw and shoved it into his chest, ripping out his own heart. It pounded in his hands, the mana of thousands of years of life coiled within it's eternal beat.

He coughed blood, but managed to extend his will once more, to the weak, barely evident lore that was forming around Arthos. He spoke aloud,

"I, Charrose the Merciful, Dragon King of Arthos, Demi-god and Herald of the [System], do hereby invoke the Cataclysm Protocol. I give my blood for this world. I give my heart as the price."

A system window appeared, the first of it's kind on the planet. It read:

**Are you sure you want to invoke the Cataclysm Protocol?**

**Warning: The local Akasha will be forcefully created, the [system] initiated and protection and stewardship will pass to the [system].**

**Warning: Cataclysm Protocol will wipe all mortal memories.**

**Warning: The forced creation and memory wipe will result in the total collapse of local civilization.**

**Warning: Untold mortals will perish. Do you wish to activate?"**

"ACTIVATE."

The dragon clenched his fist, crushing his own heart. He collapsed onto the beach, life leaving his eyes. As his soul departed for other realms, the nature of his deed rang throughout the world. Mana poured in from the universe, joining that of his heart. It raced into the Lore of the Planet, wiping away the nascent stories and beliefs and discoveries of everyone who lived there.

In every land, mortals collapsed into unconsciousness. Yet as they slept, a single vision was formed. It was a shared dream that connected them all. It was a vision so powerful as to reach out to the greater multiverse, and rewrite the lore of the world. It brought the early initialization of the [system], and automated defenses to bear.

It was the sacrifice of a Dragon.