The cold steel of the knife felt foreign as it pierced Y/N's abdomen. He had been on his way to the grocery store, like any other day. It was supposed to be routine. Just grab some food and head back home to binge-watch Vox Machina, his favorite show, especially after catching up on the thrilling latest season. But fate had a different plan. The robbery happened so fast. A masked man, screaming threats, waving a gun around. Y/N hadn't even thought before stepping in to stop it. He wasn't a hero—just someone who believed in doing what was right. His actions gave the victims enough time to flee, but the price was high. As Y/N collapsed onto the cold pavement, the world dimmed around him. The pain was numbing, but not as numbing as the thought of his life slipping away. His vision blurred as sirens wailed in the distance, but the pool of crimson beneath him told him help wouldn't come in time.
The last thing Y/N heard was the panicked voice of a bystander: "He's bleeding out. Someone, do something!" A male spoke. Darkness swallowed him whole. Suddenly, there was light again—blinding, ethereal light. Y/N's eyes fluttered open, but this place... it wasn't the mortal world. He stood, fully healed, in an endless void of white, the air humming with an otherworldly energy. His hand instinctively reached for the wound on his stomach, but there was no sign of injury, no pain. "Am I dead?" Y/N whispered to the emptiness. "Yes, you are," came a deep, resonant voice from all around him. Y/N turned, searching for the source, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Then, before him, a figure materialized—towering and ancient, with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the cosmos itself.
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"You died with honor," the being said, its voice carrying the gravity of a thousand worlds. "Your bravery saved the lives of others. The criminal was apprehended in time, and those you saved lived long, happy lives. For this act, I have chosen to reward you." He tells him. Y/N swallowed, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what was happening. "Reward me? I don't... I don't understand." He said. The godlike being smiled, its form shifting slightly, as though it were a being made of pure energy. "You have earned a second chance, in a world where your soul will be tested, where the choices you make will shape the fate of many." He stated. A wave of possibilities washed over Y/N, memories of the world he loved, the world of Vox Machina. His heart raced. Could it be?
"You will be reborn," the voice continued, "in a realm of magic, heroes, and dangers far greater than those of Earth. You may choose what form you will take and what gifts you wish to bear. Consider this well." he said. Y/N's mind spun. He had always fantasized about this, but now it was real. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke with firm resolve. "I want to be a hybrid—a half-human, half-dragon. Not just any dragon, though... I want to take the form of Balerion the Black Dread, from Game of Thrones—but in his younger days. I want the power to transform into him at will." he asked. The god nodded approvingly. "A powerful choice. And your armor?" he asked.
"I want it to be like my second skin. When I transform into Balerion, the armor should become part of my dragon form—black and red, just like Balerion's scales." he tells the god being. "Your desires are clear," the god said. "It shall be done." he said. But unknow he decides to give him more power for his dragon but well reveal later in the future. Before Y/N could process it further, the god extended a hand, and the world around him began to shift. His mortal name was left behind, dissolved in the ether as his new identity took shape. The god spoke once more, finalizing his rebirth.
"From this moment forward, you will be known as Drakarion, the Black Dragon. Go now, Drakarion. The world of Vox Machina awaits you." He tells y/n. The transition was like being torn from one reality and thrust into another. One moment, Drakarion was in the void, and the next, he found himself standing outside a bustling tavern. The sounds of chatter and laughter spilled out into the street, and the sign above the door read, The Nestled Nook Inn. He blinked in astonishment, taking in the sight of the familiar scene from Vox Machina. This was it. He had arrived at the start of the story, right where it all began. His heart pounded as he remembered what was about to happen—the Vox Machina group, untested and disorganized, was inside. Their fates had been written, but Drakarion's presence here... could change everything.
His hand reached up to his chest, where his dragon armor was fused into his very skin, a tangible reminder of the incredible power now within him. The urge to transform into his dragon form tugged at him, but he resisted. There would be time for that later. For now, he had to focus on meeting the group he had only ever seen through a screen. The doors to the tavern creaked open as Drakarion stepped inside, ready to introduce himself to the legendary Vox Machina. A new adventure awaited, and this time, he would forge his own path in this world of magic and monsters.
