Prologue
White flashes of light arc across the dark blue of the night, the winds howling with a certain impending fury. The light reflects upon a mass, within the blue clouds, sharp crystalline spires and carefully crafted towers spanning the surface of the mass. Deep within, a secondary light flashes across the sky, peering through the windows and the corridors, the interiors seemingly sculpted into a beauty only worth the experience and power of a thousand men. Small blue crystals hang upon the walls as lanterns, giving light to the otherwise dark hallways. Past the spiraling and expansive network of the corridors and rooms, lay the main atrium of what was Stella Castle. All the souls within remain dormant, in peace, except that of two, two hearts within the throne room. The colors, stained crystal windows, appeared to be sucked of all their color in the darkness, two thrones sculpted from obsidian and the finest upholsteries lay at the far side of the throne room. The first soul, lay curled atop a throne. A serpent, one of a blue coloration, that of a shimmering turquoise within his polished scales, an extensive mane of purple hair flowing along his body, following the gentle air currents within the extensive throne room.
His eyes remain half open, a purple glow emitting from behind his serpentine pupils, his head lying upon his body, looking ahead with an expression of anticipation worn upon his face. Another serpent accompanied the first, a female. Her scales gave the impression of being made from pure gold bullion, her yellow sheen enveloping her body, with combed, blond hair matting her body. Her name, inscribed upon a necklace, read "Sellafield". Sellafield, in the most underestimated terms, was different. She was a creature of beauty, despite her malformation, in which three heads and neck rest upon her shoulders, each independent of each other. Between the two lovers, lay a large, spotted egg. The egg carried a strange shape, being malformed, and abnormally big for their species. A lone, black crack grew from the top of the egg, as if a stream trickling down a mountain during the first warmth of spring. The blue serpent opened his mouth to speak, hesitating for a moment. "Sella. It's happening…" Pratax said.
Sellafield's heads rose one by one, all six ruby red eyes opening, their attention turning to the egg.
"I'm scared… It's size concerns me. Have the elders responded on why it could be so big?"
"No, I'm afraid, but do not let your fear cloud yourself. This is the most exciting moment we will have together as a couple. Hold me, and let us watch."
Pratax responded. The egg lay on the crystal floor, teetering from one side to another, as if an arm of a grandfather clock. It emitted a quiet crinkling, the shell of the egg growing more and more cracks, peeling off and releasing a small spurt of embryonic fluid. A small appendage with a ball at the tip pierces through the vanilla tinted shell. One small, head appears through the gaps and cracks of the collapsing eggshell, a quiet gasp being released by Sellafield. To their astonishment, a secondary head pierces through. Then a third. Then a fourth. More and more serpentine heads, until a remarkable eighth head was exposed past the egg shell. "Impossible… Eight hatchlings in one egg? That's incredible!" Pratax muttered, lifting his head to get a better view.
Sellafield slithered forwards, with her nose nudging the rest of the eggshell off of the squirming hatchling. Pratax inhaled deeply upon seeing the full result, speaking in a haunted, disappointed voice.
"Oh dear, Sella, I…"
Sellafield turned her three heads back to the eggs, and released a shrill gasp. Their hatchling, their child, was not eight different, but one. Each head and neck conjoined onto the body of a western dragon, a thick and defined chest and back, with proportionally accurate legs and arms. It's belly was slightly enlarged, a thick tail attached to it's lower body. Sellafield released a quiet cry, Pratax closing his eyes and coiling himself tighter.
"...An embryonic anomaly. I've never seen this, let alone ever heard of something of this scale. It's harrowing."
Pratax whispered to her in a gentle way, in an attempt not to disturb her within her moment of panic. The golden dragon pressed her heads into the body of Pratax, hiding her eyes from the sight of their deformed offspring. In a weak voice, she spoke.
"It'll die. It won't live past the first, or second week. It's hideous."
The small hatchling writhed upon the floor, his eyes still closed, and his body still enveloped in embryonic fluid. The storm outside the castle worsened, rain battering against the windows of the palace, a stark reminder that a new age had been borne of a new child. Yamato No Orochi was born unto the universe in despair.