# Stillness in the Storm - Epilogue

Author: Vaporesso
Tags: Angst, Character-Driven, College, Dragon, Emotional, Fantasy, Immortality, LGBTQ, Modern fantasy, Mystery, Original Characters, Protogen, Sci-Fi, Secret Identity, Slow burn, Soft, artificial intelligence, empathy

In a quiet cabin buried deep in the woods, Reed keeps to himself—and he prefers it that way. With only a sharp-tongued AI for company and time moving at its own pace, the silence has become his routine. But even in isolation, something lingers beneath the surface. A presence. A secret. And maybe… the first step toward something new.

**Epilogue**

The cabin creaked softly as the wind pushed against the outer walls, the only sound in a room otherwise suffocatingly still. Books lined the shelves, most of them well-worn, others untouched for years. A mug of tea sat cold on the table beside me. I hadn't sipped it. I just liked the warmth in my hands.

I sat for hours before I finally moved. One step. Then another. Then my claws hovered over the terminal.

A soft mechanical chime broke the silence as the screen lit up. A digital hum followed, rising like the breath of something waking up.

> "Boot complete."
> 
> "Reed, it's been 3 months, 12 days, and—" the voice paused, a synthetic sigh filtering through its modulation. "Look, I don't want to judge, but even for someone of your age, that is highly concerning."

I exhaled sharply through my nose.

> "Welcome back, by the way."

"Morning, Nova," I muttered.

> "Technically it's 6:42 PM. But if you're speaking in metaphor again, I suppose that's progress."

Nova—short for Neural-Operated Virtual Assistant—was a project I started years ago. What began as a rudimentary assistant had grown into… well, this.

Standing just under my shoulder height, Nova had the unmistakable silhouette of a Protogen—digitigrade legs, a sleek fur-covered body over mechanical joints, and that distinct visor-face glowing faintly with animated expressions. The faceplate's display flickered as they spoke, smooth and expressive, glowing with a soft digital amber. Subtle tech lines pulsed beneath synthetic fur along their neck and shoulders—not flashy, but elegant in a way that fit the quiet of the cabin. A companion with too much personality and just enough sarcasm to be tolerable. Something to keep the silence from becoming a weight.

I didn't program it to care. But sometimes, it felt like it did.

Nova isn't always around in person anymore. These days, I carry them with me through a tiny custom-built earpiece tucked beneath the fur behind my right horn. Discreet, unnoticeable. Except for the part where they love to remind me they can hear _everything._

> "Shall I resume reading 'Modern Ethics and Morality' from where we left off, or are we having another existential crisis today?"

"Neither."

> "Ah. So it's a staring-at-the-wall type of evening. My favorite."

Nova flickered its display to a soft amber hue, a visual representation of mild amusement.

I ignored it and walked past, gazing out the frost-covered window.

The woods stretched for miles. And yet, even here, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees and time—

I still felt seen.

We've all heard the myths, right? Dragons live forever.

But the truth is… we don't. Compared to wolves, foxes, felines — you name it — we're not special. The average lifespan of a dragon is 75. The record? 102.

But then again…

_ **I've never told anyone I'm 700 years old.** _

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/zeRqvJK1
Part of the series Stillness in the Storm
Next: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2244807-stillness-in-the-storm-chapter-one.md