Dragon Food rode a wave of sound on its sudden slide toward the central maelstrom. The sound began to transform a little, a response to the nearness of its other part. The rider transformed with it, taking on the music’s new morphing differentials. Sliding between the waveforms, he became the scintillation in the visualizations, whatever that really meant in the equation of form meeting form. The balancing waveforms met in the fractally opposing space between the two Dragons, if not the technical spatial dimension as usually known. Dragon Food was somewhere inside the concept that was being enacted, like a bole in the wood. He was looking for the eye, the eye, he had to catch the eye of the Dragon in another dimension. He had to be seen.

He rode the music to its howling center, and jumped off into the eye of the storm, where he formed an apparition of his best contextual self, pure expression of all constituting this momentary environment. It was balance, it was introduction, it was newness and selfhood, comprehension and execution, boldness of knowledge; the right ingredients in the right amounts. His self existed, altered and moreso, in a space part of other spaces, connecting to other versions of selves in other dimensions, such as time. Both Dragons became aware of him.

“I am Akralnar. You are Acamar. We have sameness.” With this declarative thought expression of identity, Akralnar’s face emerged in more detail. Without much ado, ‘e ingested the morsel of Dragon Food in the music that belonged as much to er dimension as it did to er twin’s. There was a form of gulp, as full realization developed momentarily, of the delicious and unexpected nature of this happening. Acamar also blinked, fractally. “It was good to be us, my sameness. Now me to mine, and you to yours.” The great sound wound toward its completion.

“Agreed. We really are always us, whatever and wherever we are. I am glad to know us better. Until you.” Everything separated as the music disappeared.

When Dragon Food goes full tilt toward his inevitable doom, he begins to see reality differently – a little more the way the intended consumptor sees it, so as to become knowingly distinct, in order to really shine. Since Dragon Food is intended for Dragons, that’s incredibly different every time. He’ll see things more like the way of the Dragon that he wants to eat him – but this other thing also happens where the forces of nature at work between the two of them become symbolized in his awareness, so that he understands how to use them in order to ideally entice this Dragon. That part is also never the same. It thrills him to the core of his existence, not actually knowing what’s going to happen, and wanting it to happen.

He’s always been exhaled eventually, after a unique and bizarre micro-eternity, discovering that he is himself again outside the Dragon. He’s always known, though, that any time might be his last. Still, it was everything.

There was music all around. The music was important – he could tell because he was able to see it now, here in the waterspace. He knew it hadn’t been visible before, so this was one of those things. The music was traveling towards a strange attractor in smooth spirals. That strange attractor was occurring around the two Dragons – the one Acamar, which he, as Dragon Food, could see perfectly well now, and the enigma twin.

The musical vibrations looked tangible enough, to Dragon Food’s current embodiment. He grabbed on, and the music took him through the edge of the torrential slip field, streaming through a microhole, and out into the unsheltered, unending ocean.

The music and the Dragons were forming along a dimensional membrane that Dragon Food could see between depths of worlds on either side. Were they eating the music, becoming the music, speaking the music? Were the Dragons the part of the music that connected the sound from one world to another? They were the same, but they were not the same.

There was, at some point, another voice in there with the first voice. Both voices were there between the things they could hear, sense, and record – like unheard footfalls.

Instrument readings were consistent, yet came in differently; it was the metaphenomena, the differentials in timing, things that weren’t being measured about the things that were being measured. This was yet noted by some, with the keenness of peak moment attention. The sound of the song was an object being carried along the same trajectory by two dancers instead of one.

The matching of the two parts of sound became more seamless, more indistinguishable. They began to see something out there, similar to the sunset they saw on their first full run. Was it a different sunset? Here, it was a different day. Was that a different place? Here, they were in the same place. Between themselves and this other present place was a shadow – a mesh of two shadows that were the same but different, looking alike but moving differently. They could barely be discerned between two halves of otherwise light-filled worlds.

That’s where the action was happening, barely outside of sense or comprehension, on the very edge of awareness. Why did they read this sound connected to this moment, and produce a sound to create this moment? Why were these two Dragons necessary? Two Dragons.

Arctyri wasn’t there to lend er perspective; ‘e was only helping facilitate transit to safe surface. Arkuda, of light-filled nature, was calmly held in the awe of developing comprehension. The second Dragon was the same Dragon, like the other half of the song was the same song. The Arch had been working on this research since before Acamar had emerged. Arkuda recognized the way of Dragon conception – the development of an element of truth in existence, from other elements of truth, somewhere outside of and throughout time. Once it was real, it had always been real, even if one day it might not be real in the same way. This moment was inextricable from itself. That other Dragon, which was the same Dragon, was in another place, which in some way might be the same place. In these two places, two parts of the same song were being played.

Many of the humans aboard looked through the shadows to what was beyond, each recording for their own profession to the best of their ability. Across an impossible distance of clarity, there were people, so like them. There were strange structures. It was hard to focus, but easy to feel.