[b]Ailee![/b]

King Dragon.

There's lots of different theories on what exactly the King is. The Oneiric theory is that he is the dream of all dragons; he is the beating heart of their drive for power, wealth, and control. The Progenitor theory is that he is the god that birthed the first dragons, imprisoned by a mighty hero of bygone ages for that crime. The Exemplar theory is that all dragons could be King Dragon if they pulled themselves up by their talons and really focused on being the biggest monster they can be.

This isn't King Dragon. Not really. The monster tearing down, down, down into the heart of the station to claim it for his own is just a projection. (The real King Dragon is buried deep, deep, in some infernal crevice, the weight of the Heart crushing on every side, as untold thousands of his cultists work to free him. They never will.) The problem is that King Dragon can still incinerate everybody. Except you. He wouldn't destroy an asset, after all. Not unless he was very, very angry.

[Mark damage.]

***

[b]Jack--[/b]

Nope. You're Carinadir the Skill-handed. The name was buried in a book on Kobold folklore of the railways, a figure of terrible genesis and art. You made the Vermissian Line; your design made the tracks, made the trains, made even this station. Stand taller, stand prouder; when the Fool prances in, curl a lip and sneer. You are a [i]genius[/i]. You are [i]superior[/i]. The station is operating as [i]designed.[/i] You always knew this would happen, and now this dragon thinks it can damage [i]your[/i] handiwork?

Deep down, you're aware that Carinadir is fictional; that he is almost certainly a composite figure of the vast number of mystic architects and geomancers that designed this place. But if you blink, you will lose. If you lose, you will die, all of you. So rant. Sneer. Inform everyone [i]exactly[/i] who they are dealing with. Halfwits! Bashibazouks! Barnacles! You are Carinadir, one of the Elder Race, and you will [i]not[/i] let some overgrown [i]vermin[/i] damage your designs.

Declare how it may be set to rights. You will be correct; or you will become correct. This place is malleable, after all. But be aware that you [i]want[/i] this station to run. It is, after all, one of your masterpieces.

***

[b]The Fool![/b]

Well, well, well! It seems changing your nature is in [i]fashion![/i] Someone should have said! What if you have to go home and change?

But Carinadir's here. How do you feel about the Architect?

***

[b]Coleman![/b]

"Idiot!" Wolf scrabbles for control, trying to take Sasha, curled up with you in the cabin. "Can't hurt it!"

You've bought a little bit of time, but, honestly? From the sounds that are emerging from the burning, rubble-strewn room? Eventually you will run out of robots. It's an [i]Angel[/i], after all. Sasha can't handle it, and Wolf knows that; that's why she's trying to grab the controls before you get any more Smart Ideas.