[Null POV] Year 5, Day 185 (Two weeks after Dirty Dog's loyalty locked; 27 days left in courtesan contracts)

  Two weeks since Dirty Dog accepted the seed fully while drinking coca-cola. Twenty-seven days countdown until the courtesans leave forever. Zero progress on any real problem.

  Dirty Dog made everything harder. Everything.

  Null needed help. Genuinely needed it. Had no pride left to prevent asking.

  So she went to the only person she could be vulnerable with.

  Null walked through the corridors. Toward Void's office. Dirty Dog following one meter behind. Always following. Always there.

  They reached the office. Null entered without knocking.

  Void looked up from where he sat with Kira. Papers spread between them—housing plans, expansion designs. Discussion interrupted.

  "Mistress!" Surprise clear. Pleasure. "I haven't seen you in—two weeks? Are you—"

  He stopped. Seeing her expression. Seeing something wrong.

  "Is everything alright?" Void asked. Concerned.

  Dirty Dog entered behind Null. Hesitant. Uncertain where to go. Eyes fixed on Null. Desperate. Waiting for guidance.

  Null glanced back. Saw her hovering near the door. Uncertain. Lost without instruction.

  She pointed at the couch. Simple gesture. Permission.

  Dirty Dog moved immediately. Sitting where indicated. Few meters away. As close as she dared.

  Watching Null. Constant. Vigilant. Desperate. Like Null might disappear if she looked away even momentarily.

  Null felt Kira's thoughts. Surface reading. Automatic.

  [Something's wrong. Mistress never looks like this—the tension, the strain, all visible. Very wrong.]

  "No," Null said. Simple. Honest. "Everything is not alright."

  Void stood. Concerned. "What happened? What's wrong?"

  Null opened her mouth. Closed it. Started again.

  The words came. Not clinical this time. Not organized. Just: pouring out. Everything at once.

  "She won't leave. Can't leave. Maximum distance meter or so. If I go further she panics. If I leave her alone she has a near-meltdown. If I try doing anything without her present it becomes a crisis."

  "The seeding—thirty-plus maids that Ealdred approved, done, but it took twice as long as it should have. She was there. Every time. Anxious. Hovering. Making candidates even more nervous."

  Null gestured sharply. Frustration showing.

  "Old way? In the desert? Her presence would probably cause deaths. Someone panicking from her anxiety. Moving wrong. Seed rejection. Death. Her fault for making them more uncomfortable at critical moment."

  "Alpha's new method is safer. More controlled. We had zero deaths. But some seedings were still confusing. Difficult. Took longer than needed. She was there. Making everything harder. Making me split focus. Every. Single. One."

  She looked at Void directly. "You were there. You saw. You noticed."

  Void hesitated. Just slightly. Uncomfortable. "I... yes. I was there."

  Null caught his thoughts. Leaking through bond.

  [Seeding was so horrible. Alpha's ritual. The breaking. Too close to slavery memories. Could barely watch. Barely noticed anything else.]

  He shifted topics quickly. Avoiding. "And the training with Ealdred? You mentioned issues there too?"

  Null's voice tightened. Control slipping.

  "Can't resume. She's terrified of him. Seeing him triggers panic. Being near the training wing causes trembling. Ealdred won't work with her present. Said it distracts the other maids. Sent me away."

  Null gestured vaguely. Frustration. Helplessness.

  "The courtesans. Twenty-seven days left. Every day minus one. Counter ticking down. And I can't talk to them. Can't create openings. Can't have real conversations. Because she's always there. Always needing attention. Always being barrier between me and anyone I try to reach."

  "The hot springs trip—complete failure. She made it impossible to discuss anything serious. Constant interruptions. Constant need. The courtesans couldn't relax enough to think about futures when she kept demanding reassurance every few minutes."

  Void listened. Sympathetic. Understanding building.

  Null continued. Frustration bleeding through now. Control eroding further.

  "Every meeting is harder. Every task takes longer. Every social interaction becomes complicated. She's always there. Always watching. Always needing."

  "The Twins have their own lives now. Ealdred trained them. They can be useful. Help with tasks around the premises—they're doing something in the kitchen right now actually. Most maids know how to handle them. Make them feel welcome. They love me but they're not always near me. They're children. They should have freedom. They have friends. Activities. Purpose beyond just following me."

  "But Dirty Dog has only me. Just me. Nothing but me. And I don't know how to fix it."

  She paused. Breathing carefully. Then continued. Quieter. More vulnerable.

  "We went to the desert. Playing. The Twins wanted to see a true dragon transform. Her true form—it's not normal dragon size. It's five hundred meters or maybe even more of horror. Skin hanging. Tentacles. Everything living dies on contact. Even the Twins and I take damage touching her."

  "Death aura radiates from her. Kills most weaker things automatically. If she transformed in Borderwatch, probably most of the city would die on the spot. Just from proximity."

  "And she doesn't remember. Doesn't remember being a dragon. Doesn't remember the training. Doesn't remember anything before I said 'come with me.' She's literally like she was born during that moment. Identity built entirely around desperate need for me."

  Null looked at Void. Direct. Vulnerable. Raw.

  "This is the first problem I genuinely can't solve. I've destroyed valleys. Killed thousands. But this? This I can't fix. And everything else is failing because of it."

  "Twenty-six days until the courtesans leave forever. I'm running out of time. And I can't even approach them properly because she's always there."

  Would cry if she could. The emotion was there. Pressing. Demanding release.

  But suppression held. Barely. Her nature preventing the breakdown her mind wanted.

  Just: voice tight, posture tense, control slipping, helplessness showing.

  "I don't know what to do," she finished. Quiet. Defeated. "My life is so hard right now."

  Void moved immediately. Around the desk. To her. Hand reaching for hers.

  He touched. Gentle. Supportive. Proper limit but genuine comfort.

  "We'll figure it out," he said. Certain. Warm. "Together. You're not alone in this. Let me help. Let me think. We'll find solution."

  Null nodded. Accepting support. Needing it desperately.

  Kira sat silent. Processing everything. Null caught her thoughts.

  [Mistress is breaking down. Actually breaking down. Never seen this. Never imagined it possible. The crisis. The compounding problems. The helplessness.]

  She looked at Dirty Dog. Null felt more thoughts flowing.

  [That dragon-maid. Desperate puppy eyes. Perfect clone creating perfect problem. This was the training project. The screaming for three months. What 22 and Ealdred worked on continuously. They broke her. True dragon. So thoroughly she doesn't even remember being dragon. So completely she can't exist without Mistress. So permanently the damage might be irreversible.]

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  Dirty Dog sat on the couch. Listening. Null felt her thoughts too. Broadcasting. Leaking.

  [I'm the problem. Making Mistress sad. Causing all this. But can't change. Can't help. Can't be different. World scary alone. Null is safety. Leaving her side impossible. Sad. Helpless. Contributing nothing but more problems.]

  She watched. Eyes fixed on Null. Desperate. Trapped in her own broken mind.

  Void was speaking. Gentle. Supportive. Trying to help.

  "What if we assigned her specific tasks? Gave her purpose beyond following you?"

  "Tried that. She panics if I'm not visible."

  "Gradually increasing distance over time—"

  "Tried. Failed. Made it worse. The panic response is too extreme."

  "What about involving the Twins more? Making them part of her routine?"

  "They have their own lives. Shouldn't have to manage her constantly. And she still focuses on me anyway. They're not substitute. Just... additional presence she tolerates while watching me."

  Void suggested more. Other approaches. Different methods.

  Tried already. Doesn't work. Failed. Every answer the same.

  Eventually he stopped. No solutions left to offer. Just sympathy. Understanding. Frustration they both felt.

  Kira stood. Professional mode. Giving them privacy. "I should step out. This is... personal."

  She walked toward the door. Passing the couch where Dirty Dog sat.

  Her eyes flicked to the dragon-maid. Just briefly. Casual glance.

  Null caught the explosion. Thoughts unguarded in the emotional weight. Screaming internally.

  [TRUE DRAGON. Right there. On the couch. Perfect Mistress clone. Loyal. Broken. Controlled.]

  [Nobody has ever owned a true dragon. Ever. In all history. It's impossible.]

  [And Mistress has one. Sitting there. Wearing maid uniform. Desperate and dependent and absolutely loyal.]

  [TRUE DRAGON TRUE DRAGON TRUE DRAGON—]

  The fanboy explosion. Complete. Every dragon enthusiast dream realized and sitting three meters away looking miserable.

  She reached for the door handle.

  "STOP."

  Null's voice. Command. Sudden. Sharp.

  Kira froze immediately. Hand on handle. Body still. Obedient.

  Turned. "Yes, Mistress?"

  Null was staring at her. Really staring. Reading. Deep reading. Thorough reading.

  All the thoughts. All the screaming. All the desperate fanboy explosion happening behind Kira's professional mask.

  [TRUE DRAGON want her need her please please TRUE DRAGON—]

  Null's expression changed. Something flickering. Hope. Desperate hope. First idea in weeks.

  "You... want her?"

  The question hung. Impossible. Insane. Tempting beyond measure.

  Kira's composure cracked. Slightly. Visibly. "I—Mistress, I—"

  "Can I give her to you?"

  Silence. Complete. Absolute.

  Null read deeper. Into Kira's mind. And found... something strange.

  [Almost like parallel mind processing. Thoughts fragmenting. Running simultaneously. Multiple threads. But that shouldn't be possible. Kira doesn't have that ability. Best of my knowledge, she's quite standard for beastperson. Strength first. Combat. Administration. Not magic-related professions that develop parallel processing.]

  [But her thoughts are splitting anyway. Fragmenting under pressure. Maybe extreme stress causes similar effect? Mind breaking into pieces to handle overwhelming decision?]

  [Heard about this from Bunny once. She still has nightmares from when she was small girl and evil aunty terrorized her for days until mind fractured. Awakened parallel processing.]

  [That's what wealthy families do—have the funds, the abilities, the connections to give children these advantages for later life. Educational enhancement through systematic torture. Mind fragments to survive. Most develop it. Some don't.]

  [Kira also from rich family. Had similar training when small girl. Never developed it. Standard practice for rich families who can afford it.]

  Kira's thoughts shattered into pieces. YES screamed the fanboy. Duty demands it whispered the professional. This is insane warned the practical. You'll die hissed the fear. WANT IT roared the desire. Dragon riding. Family shame. Proving worth. Everything. All at once. Tearing her apart.

  Null continued. Voice gaining energy. Thinking aloud. Working through it.

  "You're from family who rides dragons. For generations. You understand them. Better than I do, probably. You have the background. The cultural knowledge. The experience."

  She gestured at Dirty Dog. At the dependency problem. At everything failing.

  "You might... handle her better than I can. You might know how to manage this."

  First real idea. First hope. First potential solution to everything.

  Kira stood frozen. Internal war visible on her face.

  "I..." she started. Stopped. Started again. "I don't know if... I need to..."

  Trailing off. Lost. Torn.

  [Still fragmenting. The pattern holding. Maybe it really is awakening. Happening right now. Right in front of me.]

  [Rare to witness. Most who develop it later life do so gradually. Over years. This is... immediate. Violent. Born from impossible choice.]

  Null watched. Hopeful but uncertain now. Kira's mind might be evolving. Or breaking. Hard to tell which.

  Kira turned. Hand on door handle. "I need... I need to think. Please. Let me think."

  Not refusal. Not acceptance. Just: need time. Need processing.

  Null nodded. Understanding. "Yes. Think about it. Please."

  Kira opened the door. Stepped through. Closed it behind her.

  [Kira POV]

  Walking away. Down the corridor. Toward her own office.

  Professional servant on the outside. Dragon fanboy exploding on the inside.

  [TRUE DRAGON. She offered me a TRUE DRAGON.]

  The thoughts spiraled. Endless. Conflicting. Terrifying. Tempting.

  She reached her office. Entered. Closed the door.

  Stood there. Processing. Trying to breathe normally.

  [Maybe separate minds afterall. Oh. I developed parallel mind. All the horrible things that mage did to me as small girl resulted to nothing and now? Now I have it.]

  The rational mind tried asserting. [Congratulations on new ability. But: listing problems. Being reasonable.]

  The fanboy mind screamed louder. [TRUE DRAGON TRUE DRAGON TRUE DRAGON.]

  The professional mind added: [Mistress needs you. Help her. Solve this.]

  The survival instinct warned: [Danger. Death. Failure.]

  The desire responded: [But WANT. Need. Dream come true.]

  Everything warring. Nothing winning.

  Time passed. Seconds. Maybe thirty. Maybe less.

  Until finally—

  —the fanboy won.

  Completely. Absolutely. Overwhelming everything else.

  [I don't care about the problems. Don't care about the risks. Don't care about inadequacy or death or failure.]

  [TRUE DRAGON. She's offering me a TRUE DRAGON. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.]

  [I want it. I NEED it.]

  She turned. Ran.

  Back through corridors. Back to Void's office. Back to Mistress.

  Burst through the door. Barely controlled. The professional mask completely shattered.

  "Yes." Voice shaking. Desperate. Eager. "Yes. I want her. I'll take her. Please. The dragon. Give me the dragon."

  [Null POV]

  Null looked at her. At the desperation. At the professional servant reduced to begging fanboy.

  And felt relief. Hope. A solution finally emerged.

  Then: read deeper. Really deep. All the way down.

  Behind the screaming YES and the desperate PLEASE and the fanboy explosion—

  —other thoughts. Quieter. Buried. Honest.

  [Don't actually know how to train dragons. Never done it myself. Just childhood fun rides on family mounts. Supervised. Safe. Never real training. Never real bonding. Just... watching. Dreaming. Wanting.]

  [Cultural knowledge. Family stories. But no practical experience. No real skills. Just desire built on observation not participation.]

  Null processed this. Slowly. Hope wavering.

  [She doesn't actually know. She wants it. Desperately wants it. But doesn't know how.]

  Read deeper. Further down. Past the fanboy. Past the desire. To the fears.

  [True form. Death aura. Kills everything living on contact. Even Mistress and Twins take damage. What about me? I hope I don't die instantly. But past that? Minutes? Hours? Permanent damage accumulating? Unknown.]

  [Might survive initial exposure. Then what? Slow death? Corruption? Deterioration?]

  Null felt the hope crack. Reality seeping in.

  [She might die. Even being one of the strongest maids. Even with seed enhancement. The true form is too extreme.]

  Read even deeper. To the practical assessments. The knowledge Kira actually had.

  [Legends. Stories. Dragon riders achieving mythical feats. Those dragons were maybe fifty meters. Some accounts say one hundred. Even one hundred fifty at extreme upper end. Still massive. Still dangerous. But theoretically manageable scale.]

  [Dirty Dog is five hundred meters or more. Not just bigger. That's wrong. Aberration. Even by true dragon standards. Not what legends described. Not what anyone ever attempted. Not what's supposed to exist.]

  The realization settled. Cold. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

  She doesn't have experience. She might die from exposure. The scale is wrong even by legend standards.

  I got excited too fast. First idea in weeks. Grabbed onto hope without thinking it through.

  This might not work. This probably won't work.

  Null looked at Kira. At the desperate dragon fanboy barely controlled. At the professional servant who wanted this more than anything but had no framework to actually succeed.

  At Dirty Dog. Watching. Terrified. Understanding she might be transferred but loyal enough to accept whatever Mistress decided.

  At Void. Supportive. Present. Worried now. Seeing Null's hope drain away as reality set in.

  Twenty-six days left. Zero real progress. Everything failing.

  And one desperate maid begging for a dragon she couldn't actually handle.

  The impossibility. The risk. The almost-certain failure.

  But: only idea Null had. First potential solution in weeks.

  It's all I have.

  Null's voice was quiet. Uncertain. Rare to hear her like this.

  "This might not work," she said. Honest. Clinical assessment returning through the desperation. "You don't have real experience. The true form might kill you. The scale is wrong. Everything about this is wrong."

  Pause. Looking at Kira. At the hope and fear and desperate desire all mixed together.

  "But it's the only idea I have."

  Silence. Heavy. Uncertain.

  Both of them knowing: this was probably a terrible idea. This will probably fail. This might kill Kira or traumatize Dirty Dog further or make everything worse.

  But: twenty-six days. No other options. Everything else exhausted.

  Just: desperate maid offering impossible dragon to desperate fanboy who couldn't actually handle it.

  Because sometimes terrible ideas were all you had left.

  Then—

  Spy materialized. Visible. Present. Floating between them.

  One word.

  ?22.?

  Dirty Dog flinched. Violently. On the couch. Body going rigid. Eyes wide. Trembling starting immediately.

  Just the word. Just the name. Instant terror response.

  Null looked at Spy. Processing. Understanding slowly.

  22, the one who broke the dragon. Three months of systematic destruction. The author of this entire catastrophe. The architect of dependency and trauma and everything wrong with Dirty Dog's condition.

  Is Spy still angry about the dragon wanting to eat him? Or offering actual solution?

  The uncertainty hung. Spy's motivations unclear. His expression unreadable.

  But: 22 was the smartest person around. More than a thousand years of experience as Archmage. If anyone could solve impossible problem, she could.

  She broke the dragon. Maybe she can... adjust what she broke. Fix it enough to be manageable.

  The idea settled. Cold. Practical. Evil in its efficiency.

  22 had been underground since the training ended. Only coming out for equipment or to meet her students. Her followers. Making progress on hot springs. Working on the ley line project. Buried deep. Out of sight most of the time.

  It was actually blessing. Dirty Dog hadn't had much chance to see her because of that. Hadn't had to face the one who'd destroyed her.

  Until now.

  Null looked at Dirty Dog. At the trembling. At the terror from just hearing the name.

  At Kira. At the desperate fanboy wanting impossible dream.

  At Spy. At the single word solution he'd offered.

  At Void. At the support and worry and helplessness.

  Twenty-six days. Everything failing. Terrible ideas the only option.

  And one name that might fix everything.

  Or make it infinitely worse.