Broken Zona has had a terrible history, and this is something that has never really been explained before. But here it is, not only the backstory but also a visual representation.

Art by the always fantastic  Punkocalypse

Zona and Story are by me.

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Two hundred and ten years. That is how long I’ve been around the universe, this forsaken universe. What has led me to say such a thing? Well, let me tell you the story about how I came to be the dragon I am today.

210 years ago I hatched as the last one of the clutch, so late my parents had almost given up on me. It was clear from the start I was different with my magic abilities, nobody else had the same coloration or body shape as me either. This got me in trouble with the rest of my clan. Nobody knew what I was and as normal with new and different things, I was left to fend for myself. I was still raised and taught the basics of the tribe but was bullied for the long twenty-five years that it would take for me to finish my lessons. After that, I was considered “of age” and unlike the others who all found their place, I had no place to go and so I left one day without telling anybody just to see if anybody would notice......they never did and so I decided to stay away. It was clear that they didn’t want me there anyways so there was no need to go back.

So there I was, only 25 years old and on my own. Not that I wasn’t prepared for it, but I was still only considered a young adult. That made me the perfect target for a pair of slavers. I never learned their names or even what they looked like, I was hit in the back with a knockout dart which kept me out like a light until I woke up several days later. When I woke up, I was tied to a bed as if I was in a mental hospital. It was then that I found out why I had been targeted. I was a part of the Prophecy that tells about the end of days, hence why they called me an Ender Dragon. Was this why I was abandoned by my tribe?

Not that I had a long amount of time to think about it as the tests began. Day in and day out, I was always bound to prevent myself from lashing out as they tortured me. I soon lost track of time, the constant experiments ranging from physical torment to see how my body reacted, to mental anguish to see if my mind would break, and even sexual acts all left me wishing for death soon enough. My mutation, what my clan called a curse but the doctors called a blessing. I don’t know what they were trying to do. Learn more about me, turn me into a weapon, or even use me for some strange experiments and rituals. All I knew was the living hell I had endured. Not that I remember much, the trauma was so great even my own mind subconsciously keeps me from remembering it.

I only remember the last thing that they did to me. Leaving me chained to a wall spread eagle style, they stopped all food and water just to see how long I would last compared to the normal dragon. My magic kept me alive far longer than I should have been able to survive. Every time they would come in would only cause them to be more and more surprised at my continued survival. Truth be told it was causing equal surprise and fear in me as I longed for death's sweet embrace by this point, even having been punished for attempted suicide in the past. This time, I was certain this was it as I started to fade away. Everything hurt, I could barely move and I could feel my magic vanishing. Almost as if it was being taken from me. The last thing I remember was being slapped awake and a picture being taken of me. The bastards never missed a chance to humiliate me, and so showed me what I looked like. I could hardly see the screen, but what I saw could only be described as a mummified dragon.

I was certain I had died there, as I was never woken back up again and I was dreaming, not having nightmares, for the first time since I had been captured. I saw my family, and they were accepting me as who I was. Beckoning me towards them only for a much larger dragon to stop me. It was Drakon, the God of Dragons. He said that it wasn’t my time yet, that there was so much more for me to do, and that my light was bright as the brightest star in the universe. I couldn’t, didn’t, believe him but soon felt everything slipping from my grasp as I was waking up. Crying out in fear that I was waking back up to another cruel experiment and for help, there was none before I gasped awake.

Something was wrong, the surface I was laying on felt soft and the air wasn’t sterile. I could smell nature, something that I had not smelled for over 175 years. Opening my eyes I saw I was laying face down in a field, the call of birds reaching my ears as I slowly started to wake up. I didn’t know what had happened, or how long I had been out, but I knew that somehow I was healthy again, on a different planet, and fully clothed. This was around five to ten years ago, this fresh start. The pain and the scars still covered my body and scared people away, so I learned to hide them with my magic. But even here I was unable to find my feet, as I drifted between the different camps of homeless furs, scales, and humans. Never fitting in even there. So this is where you find me, trying to keep dry on the street in a biting storm.