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It was a voice. The first thing she remembered in her long long life was a voice. But it was a voice that brought her no pleasure for she felt no emotion in it.

It was a cold and calculative voice.

Who am I?

What am I?

Such basic questions that all living and thinking beings had at least once in their life were things she never had to wonder about.

From the first moment she opened her eyes and walked out of her incubator, she knew who she was.

Tiamat, the Dragon of Pride. The one and only dragon in this world.

Why did she exist? She was nothing more than a machine of war.

Who created her? The goddess of Pride, from the remains of her previous servant.

What was her destiny? Win and thrive, or die and become the base for a third-generation divine beast the same way the first generation was used for her.

“Don’t fuck with me!”

What?

Just because the goddesses gave birth to her meant that they would use her as a slave until the end of her days?

There was no way this was happening.

The first decision Tiamat ever took in her life was simple.

She refused to comply—and she was swiftly taken down and imprisoned.

The difference in power between the newborn her and the goddess was simply too much. Even though she was born as a demigod and with all those advantages, she was unable to even resist the power of Superbia’s concept.

This was her first and greatest humiliation.

This was also her first and most important lesson.

Pride without the power to back it up was nothing but hubris and arrogance.

She had learned it the hard way, but she refused to make the same mistake twice.

This was why she became their hunting dog.

Bidding her time, hiding her claws, biding her time more. She became a docile dragon listening to all and every order, acting as if her Pride was to serve.

How long did this last?

She didn’t know. Neither did she remember nor did she care to remember. She simply continued to move ahead, never looking back.

However, in the end, when she finally took a look behind her, she was surprised to find how far she had came.

From a fledging demi-goddess with no experience, she became a renowned powerhouse no one dared to underestimate. All alone, sitting on a throne made out from the corpses of her enemies, no matter where she looked, no one in the Astral world and the Mortal world could hope to match her.

Was this enough?

She laughed in derision at this nonsensical question for the answer was all too clear.

Not at all.

This was far from enough.

What did it matter if she was a giant when compared to the dwarves? When in reality she was still a dwarf to the true giants?

How could she be satisfied with such a reality?

As such, she continued walking. Never stopping and never looking back again.

Ten years, ten decades, ten thousand years. She still walked but sadly, no matter how far she walked, she never managed to reach the destination she sought for.

Insanity was repeating the same actions in the same circumstance and expecting different results.

So she decided to change her methods.

She began to reassess herself and understand the deepest parts of her personality.

It was then that she understood something.

For Mortals, the most important Level was the Duke, once known as the Legend level.

It was the moment when a mortal would understand his or her deepest truth and use it to form the Zone.

But what was Tiamat\'s truth?

She was born directly at the level of Demigod. Be it her Zone, King name, or even the territory she owned… All of this was bestowed to her by the goddesses.

How could she reach their level when she was nothing without them?

So, unbeknown to them all, she discarded it.

Dropping back to a level below that of a Duke, she questioned herself.

Who was she?

What did she want?

What was her truth?

The answer to that question came from an unexpected place.

Since she could not find the way in Order, she decided to visit Chaos.

Entering Tartarus, she fought from the first circle up to the last one but still found nothing.

At least that was what she thought until something stirred in her.

A call from far away. Something she could barely hear.

But the little she did hear was more than enough.

Following the sound, she managed to reach a place she had never imagined the existence of.

The 8th circle.

"Hello…Dragon? Oh, so they really managed to create a dragon. How fascinating."

The moment she stepped into the 8th circle, the first thing she remarked was the absence of Chaos mana.

The second thing she noticed was the floating translucent winged man looking at her.

"Who are you, no, what are you?"

Even though she asked, she already had an inkling of the answer. After all, she was created from his remains.

Still, he should have been dead.

This was why she had changed her question.

"Me?"

The spectral angel smiled while opening his black wings wide open. Even in this state, the majesty that was overflowing from him made it clear that he was no ordinary being.

"I am the Fallen Angel of Rebellion, Lucifer Superbia, or at least, I am what is left of his soul."

Smiling at her, he continued, "I am happy to finally meet you, Tiamat."

Her life completely changed from that day.