Chapter 956: The Factory

A pair of colossal dragons, one blue and one white, soared over the city skyline. Beneath the night sky, the protective barrier emitted a faint glow, blending seamlessly into the myriad neon lights that flickered across the sprawling metropolis of Talrond. High atop Melita’s broad shoulders, Gawain gazed ahead at a massive steel structure not far off—an immense framework supporting what appeared to be some kind of aerial garden. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “Where exactly are we headed?”

Melita’s deep voice came from the front. “We’re starting at the beginning of a dragon’s life—a centralized incubation center.”

“Incubation…” Gawain blinked, caught off guard by a term he’d never considered before. “An incubation center?”

“You could also call it an incubation factory, or a dragon egg hatchery—those are more common terms,” Melita said casually as she began to descend. “See that towering pillar-like structure ahead? That’s Argondor’s incubation factory. Hold steady—we’re about to land.”

Gawain instinctively adjusted his stance, his eyes drawn to the enormous “factory.” It truly resembled a gigantic pillar, surrounded by countless tank-like appendages, pipes, and support beams clustered around a cylindrical core. From its midsection, lights slanted outward, tracing a dozen or so illuminated landing guides in the air.

Around the factory’s midsection was a ring of landing platforms. Many were occupied by dragons taking off and landing, their platforms encircled by red lights. Empty platforms were marked by bright white halos, making them easy to spot. Melita and Noretta, who flew nearby, were steering toward one of these vacant spots.

Just as Melita began to lower their altitude, a sudden gust of wind swept in from another direction. A black dragon streaked through the night sky like a bolt of lightning, heading straight for the platform Melita had just claimed. A roar echoed urgently through the air: “Sorry! My egg hatched early—I have to claim this spot!”

“Damn your—” Melita started to curse, but hearing the frantic shout, she abruptly changed course. Flapping her wings sharply, she adjusted their direction to find another platform. Turning to Gawain with a hint of embarrassment, she said, “Sorry you had to see that less-than-civil side of us. Please understand—getting an incubation permit these days is no easy feat. That was just a worried father.”

Gawain was speechless.

By now, he’d grown numb to the many unexpected facets of Talrond—too tired even to complain.

After this minor hiccup, Melita and Noretta finally found free landing platforms. The two dragons touched down smoothly on adjacent pads. Before they landed, the platform lights switched to red, and once they settled, a translucent barrier enveloped the entire platform. Only after Gawain, Amber, and Veronica dismounted from Melita and Noretta, and the two dragons shifted into human form and left the platform area, did the “temporary control” system revert to idle—an entirely automated process.

This was Talrond’s uniquely sophisticated “traffic control system,” a glimpse into a world unlike any Gawain had known.

Before a grand gate leading into the incubation factory, Noretta, dressed in a flowing white gown, met up with Gawain, Melita, Amber, and Veronica. Amber instinctively tilted her head back, eyes wide with awe as she took in the gate—far more imposing than any city gate she’d ever seen. “Wow…”

Veronica, however, looked past the gate into the long, shadowy corridor beyond. She studied the cold steel, flickering lights, lifeless polymer windows, and conduits. After a long moment, she murmured to herself, “I never imagined… dragons were born in a place like this. I thought—even if not in a hot spring nest—they’d at least be close to their parents…”

“Long, long ago, that was true,” Noretta said softly, now in human form. “But that was a very long time ago…”

“I’ve got clearance,” Melita said, glancing at Gawain and the others. “Omega will open the gates along the route. Just follow me inside. Don’t touch anything unfamiliar once we’re in. Other than that, there are no special rules. The dragon eggs are tightly protected, and normal visitors won’t disturb the incubation process.”

They nodded and followed Melita and Noretta through the wide gate into the factory’s interior.

What Gawain saw next perfectly matched the description—a factory, a place designed solely for hatching dragon eggs.

They entered via a suspended skybridge, one end anchored to the factory’s outer wall—a thick metal shell covered in flowing lights and busy machinery scurrying about. The other end led into a vertical shaft at the factory’s core. As they moved through the shaft, Melita began explaining the various facilities along the way.

Soon, Gawain spotted the dragon eggs in their incubation state.

Each egg rested alone inside a large transparent “greenhouse,” shaped like a slightly distorted ellipsoid pressure chamber. The eggs lay on soft cradles inside, about a meter in diameter, with pale yellow shells mottled with black or brown spots. Bright lights shone on them from multiple angles, while mysterious mechanical probes occasionally descended to scan and inspect their surfaces. Each “greenhouse” sat atop a circular metal platform, its base flickering with lights and connected to others by a network of pipes.

Hundreds, maybe thousands, of these incubation units lined the sides of circular corridors. Numerous cables hung from above, linking to “integration ports” behind each unit—likely supplying power or collecting data. Gawain craned his neck, trying to trace where the pipes converged or originated, but all he saw was a vague darkness. The factory’s dome soared high above, dimly lit, and the pipes disappeared into the shadows as if swallowed by a deep abyss in the sky.

He looked back down at the orderly rows of incubation units, resembling an assembly line. The nearest egg lay quietly in its chamber, carefully tended by machines, growing steadily according to a strict schedule.

Amber approached the incubation unit, unusually silent and still, no longer giggling or startled.

“The new generation of dragons is born like this,” Veronica whispered. “How did things develop to lead to this…?”

“Many factors shaped Talrond into what it is today,” Melita said slowly, shaking her head. “The incubation factory is just a small part of it. And… for us, it’s an ancient technology.”

Noretta picked up the thread. “You’ve probably heard the saying—‘The stronger the creature, the harder it is to reproduce.’ It’s a natural balance imposed on all living things. Dragons, as the mightiest among mortal species, face the greatest reproductive challenges…”

“That’s true,” Gawain nodded. “Not just poets and playwrights say so—experts agree, too. Though they can’t study dragon samples directly, most creatures in nature follow this rule.”

“Exactly. It’s true for us dragons. Our reproductive capacity is poor, gestation is long, and hatching is difficult—but only under natural conditions,” Melita smiled faintly. “That’s why, long ago, we developed incubation factory technology and built a vast supporting industry. We use biochemical methods to collect and catalyze ‘green eggs,’ produce blank dragon eggs en masse in biomass factories, edit parental genetic factors through genetic engineering—whether from one or both parents—and hatch them in factories. These technologies work remarkably well.

“Technology can change a lot.

“Dragons have trouble reproducing and are rare? That’s a misconception. In fact, many millennia ago, we began actively controlling our population. Otherwise… how could Talrond hold so many of us?”

Melita spoke steadily, and Gawain’s jaw dropped.

This shattered the image he’d held of the mysterious, ancient, apex dragon species of myth and fantasy. Today alone, that image had been broken down repeatedly—now it lay in cold ruins.

He suspected those ruins were far from the end. They would continue to crumble until he fully understood the true Talrond—the eternal cradle under divine protection.

Beside him, Melita continued:

“Deeper beneath our feet lies the sorting and preprocessing center of the incubation factory. Dragon eggs transported from the ‘biomass factories’ are sorted and culled there. Defective eggs are destroyed; only healthy, viable ones proceed to the life suspension workshop, where development is temporarily halted until a dragon with incubation permission arrives to claim one.

“The egg’s ‘parents’ might be a pair or a single mother or father. They must apply and prepare in advance. Besides a mountain of paperwork and a lengthy review process, claimants must submit their genetic material. This is injected into a blank egg to synthesize the embryo—their true ‘child.’ The completed embryo is then sent here, to the incubation workshop.

“Machines care for these little ones still inside their shells. The incubation pods are as safe and warm as the nests crafted by ancient dragon parents. Most tasks here are automated, overseen by Omega. That’s why we’ve seen so few ‘staff’ on our way in—their main job is monitoring machines and assisting new ‘parents’ claiming eggs.

“It’s a tedious, low-tech job, but one of the few real positions in Talrond. Securing a role in the incubation factory means entering Talrond’s upper echelons.”

Gawain listened quietly as Melita spoke. Suddenly, a nearby incubation unit emitted a low hum and its lights flickered.

Several patrolling drones immediately converged, and mechanical arms slid along rails toward the unit. Just as Gawain was about to ask what was happening, Melita hurried over, smiling. “Come quickly! It’s hatching! We’re just in time to see a little one emerge!”

The moment Gawain heard that, his pace quickened. Together with Amber and Veronica, he rushed over to the hatching pod that was flashing and making noises. Almost as they arrived, the dragon egg lying quietly inside the polymer “incubator” began to tremble slightly.

Under their unwavering gaze, the egg’s surface suddenly cracked open. The fissure rapidly widened, shards of shell falling away. The hatchling was stronger than Gawain had imagined—the entire process of breaking free took mere seconds. In no time, the once sturdy shell was completely shattered, and out stumbled a small, grayish, rather unremarkable creature.

It was a baby dragon, still without scales, its species and gender impossible to tell. To Gawain’s eyes, the little thing was almost… ugly, resembling a giant, featherless turkey. But to the dragons nearby, it was undoubtedly adorable—Melita and Noretta’s eyes sparkled with joy as they smiled warmly at the newly hatched hatchling.

Amber gasped in surprise, about to ask something, when suddenly the “hatching pod” stirred again. Numerous tiny mechanical arms reached in from above and below, swiftly and deftly grabbing the newborn. The hatchling struggled briefly, then went still, as if quickly sedated.

Gawain watched as the mechanical arms moved with lightning speed. They opened a small incision at the base of the hatchling’s spine and implanted a faintly glowing device, no bigger than a human fingertip. Then, other arms injected something into the hatchling—likely the “enhancer” Melita had often mentioned. After the injection, additional instruments entered the pod, collecting skin fragments and blood samples, running rapid scans…

It all happened so fast it was dizzying.

Before Gawain could fully process it, everything was done. He blinked, then heard a synthesized voice broadcast over the system. Though he couldn’t understand the message, Melita leaned close and quietly translated:

“Dragonling #1335: healthy. Average intellectual potential. Expected implant compatibility: X, S, EN, and general implants. No current job assignment. Recommended placement: lower district, ordinary citizen.”

The mechanical arms and scanners withdrew.

The hatchling stirred awake.

Curious, it opened its eyes wide, seemingly marveling at the world around it. Using its wings and unsteady limbs, it wobbled to its feet. Then, it spotted the figures standing outside the pod.

The little creature let out a joyful cry.

(End of chapter)