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Part 7
— Alright, which one of you is Rhae—
A sudden, deep growl cut him off. The sound echoed off the walls, making the dungeon tremble, and Bruce felt a jolt of fear grip him from the inside. He took a step back, barely keeping his balance. His legs gave way for a split second, and he felt a tremor seize his entire body. Damn weakness—something he hated more than anything! He was still blaming it on this body, refusing to admit it was his own fear in the face of a real threat from these monsters. He tried convincing himself that if he were in his original body, nothing would make him falter before these snarling beasts. But the shaking in his legs and the weight pressing on his shoulders didn’t let up, making him feel helpless for the first time in ages.
He forced himself to stand upright, but his heart pounded so loudly it felt like it could be heard echoing around them. The breath of one of the dragons filled the air in hot, searing waves, like standing by an immense bonfire, but somehow the heat didn’t burn his skin. Bruce felt his hand tremble but clenched it into a fist, fighting against this traitorous sign of weakness.
The dragon, narrowing its eyes slightly as it gazed at its "mother," leaned in even closer, filling Bruce’s entire field of vision. The beast didn’t break eye contact, as if it knew that this wasn’t truly Daenerys. Bruce felt that this creature was more than just a huge, dangerous beast. It seemed to have a mind of its own, thoughts of its own, and it could see beyond appearances, beyond mere physical form. The dragon wasn’t just looking at him—it was like it was seeing through him, comparing him to the one it had once known. Sweat beaded on Bruce’s forehead. There was something ancient in that gaze, something beyond human understanding.
Bruce forced himself not to flinch, though everything inside him screamed to retreat. This wasn’t just physical fear—it was something deeper, a visceral awareness of the reality of the moment. He tried to say something confident, but his throat was dry as sand.
— You think you’re the badass here?! — he tried to sound bold, but his voice nearly cracked with a tremor. The dragons remained still, unblinking, as if weighing the pitiful imitation of Daenerys who dared to challenge them. Their gaze held a mixture of displeasure and… maybe even faint contempt. These creatures seemed to know that their “queen” was no longer who she once was. Damn it, he wouldn’t have shown any of this if he were in his own body, but this dragon seemed to sense his fear.
One of the dragons squinted, bringing its snout so close that Bruce could feel the heat of its breath. The creature’s eyes dropped to the heavy chains around its feet, and it let out a loud snort. The second dragon responded to the sound, whipping its tail so forcefully that the echo from the impact filled the dungeon, and Bruce’s eyes darted to the massive, scaly creature in front of him.