In an age before memory, when the sky itself was still learning the color red, a dragon burst forth from the heart of a dying star. It moved like liquid fire through the heavens, its scales shimmering with the blue and green of a world not yet born, his wings cutting the cosmos into ribbons of light. Every creature below felt the thunder of his passage — not as sound, but as a vibration deep in their bones, ancient and undeniable. The Red Dragon opened his jaws and breathed, and where his emerald flame touched the earth, forests rose, oceans filled, and mountains clawed their way toward him in worship. For the Red Dragon was not a destroyer — just a beginning.