Chapter Text
Fresh out of college with a degree in mystical creatures—because apparently, that was a thing—Kim Dokja had stars in his eyes and a spring in his step. So when he stumbled across an ad for a dragon rehabilitation and breeding program, he thought, Why not? It sounded way too cool to be real, but hey, stranger things had happened, right?
He started filling out the application, but somewhere between uploading his resume and answering bizarre questions about hypothetical dragon care, it hit him: this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill job. This was the kind of gig that came with background checks and non-disclosure agreements. But whatever, it wasn’t like he was actually going to get it. He sent it off and forgot about it, assuming the rejection email would arrive any day.
Except it didn’t.
Instead, one email turned into an interview. Then another. And another. Before he knew it, he’d survived a gauntlet of meetings, tests, and vaguely intimidating phone calls. And somehow—somehow—he got the job.
The day he drove out to the site, deep in the middle of nowhere, he was still half-convinced it was all a mistake. That feeling only got worse when a fleet of black security vans rolled up to meet him. Next thing he knew, Kim Dokja was being shoved into a windowless van with a handful of people who all looked way more prepared than him. They had the confident air of people who knew exactly what they were doing. He, on the other hand, felt like he’d wandered into the wrong place entirely.
And that’s when it hit him, like a bucket of ice water dumped straight onto his soul.
“Oh no,” he muttered under his breath, staring at the blank walls of the van. “I am so not qualified for this.”
As the van rattled down endless, twisting roads, a cold sweat began to bead on his brow. They drove for hours, taking random turns that left him completely disoriented. The longer they went, the louder his thoughts got. How had he, of all people, landed this job? He had no experience. None. And dragons—actual dragons—were practically extinct. No one knew much about them except for scraps of lore and a few outdated studies.
When the van finally stopped, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or ready to bolt. Climbing out, he froze in place, his jaw dropping.
The building in front of him was massive—a sleek, futuristic sphere that seemed to shimmer under the light. But what truly stole his breath was the enormous tree growing right through the center of it. And this wasn’t just any tree; this thing put California’s redwoods to shame. Its trunk was impossibly thick, its branches sprawling high into the sky like it was trying to touch the heavens.
“Hi there!”
He turned to see a stunning blonde woman with striking green eyes approaching the group. Her smile was warm and disarmingly bright, like she’d been plucked straight out of a commercial for professional charm.
“Welcome to TLS123!” she said, her voice practically sparkling. “I’m Uriel. You might remember me from one of your many interviews!”
Dokja blinked. Yeah, sure, because those were a blur.
Ureil clapped her hands together. “I’ll be showing you around, getting you situated in your dorms, and setting you up with your schedules. Follow me!”
As they moved toward the building, a cool blast of air greeted them the moment they stepped inside. Uriel launched into an energetic explanation of the entrance’s design, but Dokja barely heard her. His gaze was glued to the futuristic surroundings—the sleek displays lining the walls, the polished floors reflecting soft blue lights, and the people bustling past with tech that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie.
He swallowed hard, his earlier doubts screaming in the back of his head. I am so out of my league.
After the tour, they were gathered into a sleek, high-tech lab.
“And here,” Uriel began, her voice bright and full of enthusiasm, “we’ll get your IDs and authorizations ready for tomorrow.” She gestured toward a cluster of futuristic machines. “This is also where you’ll meet your trainers. You’ll be their shadow for the next few weeks.”
Dokja nodded absently, trying to process everything when Uriel’s tone shifted slightly. “Oh, and one more thing—”
Before he could blink, Uriel transformed. Her body rippled with light, her figure stretching, feathers sprouting from her skin until she was no longer human but a medium-sized dragon. She looked like something out of a dream, her white feathers glowing faintly, wings spread wide like an angel’s.
And then she flew away.
Dokja just stood there, mouth slightly open, staring as Uriel gracefully ascended toward the massive tree in the middle of the compound.
“She just—she just flew away,” Dokja muttered, dumbfounded.
A light tap on his shoulder made him yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin.
“Eep!”
A soft chuckle came from behind him. Turning, he was met by a lovely woman with warm brown eyes and soft hazel hair. Her expression was kind and calm, a sharp contrast to his wide-eyed panic.
“You must be Mr. Kim,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’m Yoo Sangah.”
“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you,” Dokja stammered, forcing a nervous smile. He immediately thought, She must be my mentor.
Before he could say anything else, Yoo Sangah grabbed his hands and pulled him back toward one of the machines. “Let’s get your access keys set up,” she said cheerfully, leading him to a full-body scanner.
“This will give you a full evaluation and create your ID badge,” she explained as the machine whirred to life. Lights flickered around him, scanning every inch of his body.
When it finished, Yoo Sangah retrieved a shiny new ID badge and ushered him to another machine. Sliding his ID into a slot, she continued, “This one will add your retina scan and fingerprint to the system, along with a small blood sample for access authorization.”
Dokja followed her instructions, lining up his eyes with the scanner and placing his hand on a smooth surface. He barely had time to process what was happening before a tiny needle pricked his finger.
The machines worked so seamlessly, so quickly, that Dokja was left blinking in amazement. The whole process was so streamlined, he couldn’t even wrap his head around how any of it worked.
“That’s it,” Yoo Sangah said with a satisfied nod, handing him his ID. “You’re officially in the system now.”
Dokja stared down at the ID in his hands, flipping it back and forth as if it might suddenly make sense. His thoughts were interrupted by Yoo Sangah gently clasping his hands, her warm smile immediately easing some of his nerves.
It’s okay to be nervous,” she said kindly. “Why don’t we grab some lunch? After that, I’ll show you to your room.”
“Okay,” he replied, still feeling a little out of place as he followed her out to the courtyard.
The sight that greeted him left him speechless. The open space was bustling with life—people and dragons of all sizes eating together like it was the most normal thing in the world. He watched, wide-eyed, as a small dragon carefully torched a pile of sweet treats for its handler, while a massive green dragon chomped down on raw meat that a fearless human was feeding it.
Dokja couldn’t help but stand there, frozen in awe. From the corner of his vision, he noticed Sangah watching him. He flushed, suddenly self-conscious.
“I must look like a kid,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
She giggled, the sound light and unguarded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… you’re such a breath of fresh air. Seeing someone so awestruck—it’s nice. This has been my normal for so long, I guess I’ve forgotten how incredible it really is.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see a dragon in my life, let alone work with them. They’re practically extinct, and yet here I am—dragons everywhere.”
Sangah hummed thoughtfully as they found a spot to sit and eat. “I guess when you’ve spent your whole life around them, you don’t really think about it that way.”
They ate in comfortable silence, Dokja still stealing glances at the dragons and their handlers. It all felt so surreal. When they finished, Sangah stood and motioned for him to follow her.
“Come on, I’ll show you to the dorms,” she said, leading him toward one of the dormitory buildings.
When they arrived, Dokja stopped short, his breath catching in his throat. The building was stunning—a green-covered structure with plants climbing up the sides, weaving into a lush, natural façade. It looked more like a living forest than an apartment complex.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Sangah explained as she swiped her ID to unlock the main door. “Go ahead and try yours.”
Nervously, Dokja held up his ID to the scanner. A soft beep confirmed it worked, and the door opened.
“The ID will tell you which floor and apartment you’re assigned to,” Sangah said, stepping inside with him. “We call them dorms, but they’re more like apartments. You’ll have all the amenities you need—kitchen, laundry, everything. It’s a nice place to settle in after a long day.”
Dokja nodded, clutching his ID a little tighter as he followed her down the hallway. For the first time since arriving, it started to feel real.
When they reached his room, Dokja was pleasantly surprised. The space was a mix of sleek, modern design and lush greenery. Plants hung from the ceiling and rested on shelves, while books lined every available surface. It was cozy yet sophisticated, like someone had designed it specifically for someone like him.
He lingered near the bookshelves, his fingers brushing over the spines. He loved reading—anything and everything—but here, surrounded by books, he felt an unexpected lump in his throat. Everything about this place felt surreal, like it was too good to be real.
Behind him, Yoo Sangah’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Okay, I’ll let you settle in. I’m on the fifth floor, room 504, if you need anything.”
He nodded, still a bit dazed. “Okay,” he replied softly.
With that, she left, closing the door behind her. For the first time, Dokja was alone, left to process everything that had happened.
But the second his head hit the bed, all of his thoughts were drowned out by exhaustion. He knocked out instantly.