The packrats all put their hands on him in a comforting way. It was time to keep moving. The gremlins could be heard through the collapsed wall, and if they didn't move they were probably going to get caught.

He wasn't reassured at all,cracks seeming to start in his stiffening wings. Something was happening to him,something odd. His eyes seemed glassy and he seemed more glass than living. His scales seemed to be melting together and his breathing lessening but growing more frantic. Something wasn't right with him. He was braking but in a way...that dragons did...instead of a sobbing torment of a broken heart,he actually would brake. And the scars showed that he'd survived it before,stopping it before the point of no turning back. But this seemed like he couldn't stop it. Not this time. Not in time.

The packrats exchanged worried glances. The tried to tug him along with them down the tunnel, trying to stop him from literally breaking

He was lighter and so it didn't take them much effort to move him. He didn't struggle,or at least he couldn't. He was shivering tho,his frills clattering a bit as their now glass joints hit one another. "no no no no no no" He wouldn't stop repeating it.

They pushed Jason along for hours, and gradually, the tunnels turned into natural caverns, dripping with water and stalactites. The packrats offered Jason a flashlight. The floor was littered with strange items, a fender here, a toy robot there. It seemed they were heading deep into the packrat's nest, for the farther they went, the more junk lay strewn about.


At last, they entered a cathedral-like cave, where the ceiling soared up into blackness, and the walls were piled with mountains of trash, resembling the Wasteland in miniature. In the center of the room, sitting on a throne made entirely of junk, was an old, old man. His skin was gray, and I don't mean pale or ashen, but metallic-gray, mercury-gray. His white hair flowed past his feet, nearly touching the floor as if he hadn't moved from his chair in centuries. The packrats shuffled around him, holding up various items, placing them at his feet. The old man smiled as the packrats chittered and milled around him like eager dogs, then his pale green eyes looked up at Jason.

Jason couldn't shift anymore,more glass now and cracks along his graceful spine. He didn't take the flashlight,his glassy purple eyes staring down. He'd stopped saying 'no',well....he had stopped saying anything at all.
When the mans eyes came to him he lowered to a bow. His neck and head down,wings out to the sides and front legs in a kneeling position.

He blinked several times as if he couldn't trust what he was seeing. Was this Machina? Had the pack rats brought him straight to the Iron King? For an all-powerful ruler, I doubt anyone expected him to be so...old.


"Well," he wheezed at last, "my subjects have brought me many curious things over the years, but I do believe this is the most unusual. Who are you? Why are you here?"

Jason's glassy purple eyes where gazing to the king and he raised his head and stiffly folded in his glass wings."My name is Jason.Jason Skytracer,but in this form my name is Shadow. I'm a prince of the dragons in my realm,and...I'm not even sure why I'm here anymore." He said,his voice sounding like it had a hard time coming through. His scales where almost fully melted together and he seemed like he didn't care anymore if he shattered or not as cracks made their way slowly through his chest like spider legs.

He studied Jason, and suddenly, the old man looked at the pack rats, aghast. "I don't recall you bringing home a child. What has gotten into you?"


The pack rats chittered, shaking their heads. The old man frowned at them as they jabbered and bounced around, then looked back at her. "My subjects tell me they have not encountered anyone except you and your friend out in the Wasteland. Why do you think your brother would be here?"

Jason seemed out of life,just not really thinking or caring about much. But he acted still with respect.
"My brother,Flasher Skytracer, to our...." He swallowed hard for a moment. "Assuming was taken. Held by the Iron King...." He sat back on his hunches with a sound of grinding glass as it caused a few pieces to crack off of him. "And,with all respect sir,I'm not a child....I'm 17."