The summons arrived Friday morning: a "routine developmental assessment" at the CYAP medical office. "Just a check-up, sweetie!" Mrs. Evans said, reading the notice. "With all your growing, they want to make sure everything's healthy!"

  Astraea knew better. This was Briggs' opening move. Use standard procedures to gather new data, data that would show she'd moved beyond "anomalous" into "uncontainable."

  Leo provided analysis before they left. "The CYAP medical office has been upgraded. New equipment arrived yesterday: cellular resonance scanners, metabolic tracers, mana-density imagers. This isn't a check-up. It's a full biological workup."

  "Can I avoid it?"

  "Not without raising immediate red flags. But we can... influence the results." Leo handed her a small, clear capsule. "Metabolic dampener. It will lower your cellular activity readings by approximately 40% for four hours. It won't stop growth, but it will make it look more gradual."

  "Where did you get this?"

  "I made it. From crushed moonthread crystals and a binding agent Mia's plants provided." He said it as if describing a school science project. "It's untraceable to Association chemistry."

  Astraea took the capsule. Another tool. Another layer of deception. The irony wasn't lost on her: using dragon-enhanced plants to hide dragon biology from humans studying dragon biology.

  The CYAP medical office did indeed have new equipment. The familiar nurse with her kind smile had been replaced by a man in Association whites---Dr. Aris, according to his badge. His eyes were sharp, clinical, missing nothing.

  "Astraea Evans," he said, consulting a tablet. "Here for developmental assessment. Please change into the gown and step onto the scanner."

  The scanner was new: a cylindrical tube that hummed with mana-sensitive fields. Astraea swallowed Leo's capsule as she changed, feeling the cool liquid spread through her system. A subtle dampening settled over her cells, like a blanket over a bright light.

  She stepped into the scanner. Lights moved over her body. Sensors hummed. She concentrated on her glamour, holding it tight despite the scanner's penetrating fields.

  "Interesting," Dr. Aris murmured from his console. "Cellular metabolism is elevated but within high-normal range for accelerated Awakened development. Mana integration is... remarkably efficient."

  The dampener was working.

  Next came blood draw. The technician---a different one from Headquarters---pierced her skin with practiced ease. Astraea focused on her blood composition, maintaining the human fa?ade Leo's concoction helped stabilize.

  "Hemoglobin levels optimal," the technician noted. "White cell count normal. But there's... a trace mineral signature here. Silver-based compounds not typically found in human biology."

  A slip. Her dragon blood, even glamoured, had distinct mineral content.

  "Dietary supplements," Mrs. Evans offered from the corner, where she'd been allowed to stay. "For her sparkles! The health store said silver helps luminosity!"

  Bless Mrs. Evans and her earnest, misinformed maternal interventions.

  Dr. Aris made a note. "We'll test the supplements. Some can interfere with accurate readings."

  They wouldn't find anything wrong with the supplements, because Astraea wasn't actually taking any. But it would create paperwork, buy time.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  The physical exam was more challenging. Dr. Aris measured her height: 157.3 cm. He checked her reflexes, her joints, her range of motion. When he had her bend to touch her toes, the wings pressed so hard against her glamour she felt a scale threaten to break through.

  "Some stiffness in the thoracic region," he noted. "Common during growth spurts. But your shoulder flexibility is... unusual. Almost hypermobile."

  That was the wings wanting space.

  Then came the mana output test. A simpler version of the Headquarters equipment, but still sensitive. Astraea summoned her sparkles, feeding them the minimal mana she could while maintaining the appearance of effort.

  The readout showed a steady, moderate output. Then, without her intending it, the sparkles harmonized with the scanner's own mana field. The readout spiked, not dramatically, but enough.

  "Intermittent output surges," Dr. Aris said, frowning. "Stress-related? Or something else?"

  "She's a hard worker," Mrs. Evans said again, a refrain that was becoming both shield and liability.

  The final test was the worst: a full-body tactile examination. Dr. Aris' hands were clinical but thorough. He pressed along her spine, feeling the vertebrae. Astraea concentrated on making them feel human, but when his fingers reached between her shoulder blades---where the wing joints anchored---she couldn't suppress a flinch.

  "Tender here?" he asked, pressing again.

  "Yes," she managed.

  "Muscle development is... substantial for her age. Almost athletic." He sounded puzzled. "Do you exercise, Astraea?"

  "CYAP activities," she said, which was true.

  "Hmm." He made another note. A long one.

  The examination ended after two hours. Dr. Aris' expression was professionally neutral, but his eyes held unanswered questions. "Overall health appears good. Growth is accelerated but within plausible parameters for an Awakened of her... unique profile. I'll file my report with the Association."

  "Thank you, Doctor," Mrs. Evans said, relieved.

  As they left, Astraea caught sight of Kestrel leaning against the wall down the hallway. He gave the slightest nod---acknowledgment, not approval. He'd been watching. Of course he had.

  That night in the sanctuary, she let her wings out with a gasp of relief. The compression had been agony. She flew, working on her landing as Kestrel had advised, focusing on keeping her left wing steady. It was harder than it should be---the joint was developing asymmetrically, a draconic trait her human form wasn't meant to accommodate.

  After landing, she examined her back in the piece of mirror. The wing joints were visible now even through scales---subtle bumps that shouldn't be there on a human. Her glamour would have to be perfect, always. One slip, one moment of inattention, and someone would see.

  The System notification appeared as she was preparing to leave.

  [System notification]

  [Medical assessment completed]

  [Findings: Growth acceleration confirmed but within 'explainable' parameters. Trace anomalies noted but not flagged for immediate action.]

  [Status: Continue current protocols. Maintain glamour discipline.]

  [Note: Regular check-ups are important for growing dragons! Wait, no---growing children!]

  The System's slip was telling. It was thinking of her as a dragon even in its automated responses.

  Leo's analysis arrived later. "Dr. Aris' report is cautious. He notes abnormalities but attributes them to 'extreme Awakened adaptation.' He recommends 'continued monitoring' but not 'intervention.' Briggs is unhappy. He's demanding a second opinion from a specialist."

  "What kind of specialist?"

  "Draconic biology expert."

  The words hung in the air. Of course the Association had draconic biology experts. History might have forgotten dragons, but science had preserved pieces.

  "There's one at the University," Leo continued. "Dr. Lorne. He's published papers on 'theoretical draconic metabolism based on fossilized mana residues.' Briggs wants him consulted."

  A specialist. Someone who might look at her and see not an anomaly, but a specimen.

  Kestrel's message arrived just before midnight.

  [Private message from Observer: Kestrel_H]

  [Subject: Specialist]

  [Message: "Dr. Lorne has been requested. I can delay his involvement for a week, maybe two, by arguing jurisdictional protocol. Use the time. And Astraea---your asymmetrical wing development is a tactical vulnerability. Strengthen the left side. Do the exercises I'm attaching."]

  Attached was a file: "Dragon Wing Symmetry Exercises (Theoretical)." Kestrel had compiled research, speculation, and his own observations into a training regimen.

  He was preparing her. Not just to hide, but to be what she was. Stronger. Better. More capable.

  The medical check-up had been a hurdle cleared, but the next one had experts waiting. And her body continued to change, accelerate, become.

  She looked at her hands---human hands, with subtle silver tracery beneath the skin that only she could see. Soon, the tracery would be scales. Soon, the hands would be claws.

  The check-up was over. The examination was just beginning.

  Core pressure: 65%

  Wing development: Phase 7.5 (asymmetry noted: left wing 8% weaker)

  Human camouflage: 69.2% effective (requires constant active focus)

  *Specialist involvement: Estimated 7-14 days delay*

  Kestrel's training regimen: Initiated