Power pushed himself off the ground as the last echoes of the fight died out. Smoke drifted low over the clearing, curling around snapped trees and scorched earth like it didn't want to let go.
He scanned the damage fast. Too fast.
"Sound off," he said. "Now."
Prince staggered upright and dropped out of his lightning form, sparks flickering and dying along his arms. Blood ran down his elbow. He wiped it on his sleeve like it was an inconvenience.
"I'm breathing." He glanced at Power. "Barely. But yeah."
Then, sharper—
"You could've ended that thing in seconds. Why didn't you?"
Power didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed on the dirt.
"I can't," he said finally. "This isn't my prophecy."
That hit harder than the monster ever had.
Silence.
William's fists clenched. "Then we stabilize Olsen and go after him. End of discussion."
Lonnie Mae shook her head immediately. "It's not that simple." She gestured to the ruined clearing. "We're already off schedule. We still have to reach the Rufty Mountains. If Don doesn't deal with the beast or Dreadixz—"
"The prophecy fails," Prince finished, flat. "We know."
Near the edge of the clearing, something white shifted.
Kai stood half-hidden behind a broken slab of stone—a small Hric, snow-furred, red eyes glowing faintly in the smoke. Blood stained the tips of his claws from the fight, but he wasn't focused on that. He was staring at the spot where Don had been standing.
His ears drooped.
He padded forward slowly, sniffed the darkened dirt, then sat there, tail curled tight around himself. He didn't make a sound. Didn't need to. The way his paws trembled said enough.
Ella hadn't spoken yet. She followed Kai's gaze to the blood soaking into the sand.
"So how are we supposed to stop anything," she said quietly, "if the one person everyone's counting on is gone?"
She looked up, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.
"And before anyone says it—this isn't Don freezing up. This isn't him 'choking.' Something's been messing with him for a while now."
A few heads turned.
Kai's ears flicked at Don's name. He pressed his nose briefly to the ground, then looked up again, eyes shining—not feral, not angry. Just scared.
Ella took a breath. "It's Incarceration."
That snapped everyone's attention.
"So that's who he was," Jocabed said slowly. "He's been in Don's head." She shook her head. "Not giving orders. Not controlling him. Worse. Feeding him everything he already hates about himself."
Demaurion's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"You've all seen it," Ella said. "Don overthinking. Second-guessing. Worrying about how he looks, how he sounds, whether he's embarrassing himself."
Mason joined in, voice hard. "So Incarceration turns that into pressure. Judgment. The feeling that the entire world is just waiting for him to screw up."
Kai let out a tiny, broken sound—barely a whimper—and curled in on himself, claws digging into the sand.
Ella glanced toward the trees. "That's why Don ran. Not because he's weak—but because he thinks when he fails, everyone will finally see him as the mistake."
While she spoke, Drake hauled chunks of stone off Olsen's trapped leg. Lonnie slid in beside him, vines glowing soft green as they wrapped around torn muscle and broken skin, knitting it back together inch by inch.
Archie shifted into his phoenix form, embers rolling off his wings. "So what—Incarceration's just trying to scare him?"
"No," Ella said. "He's isolating him."
A beat.
"If Don believes everyone's judging him… he stops trusting us. And once he's alone, Incarceration becomes the only voice left."
Prince looked away. "That's when he breaks."
"That's when he listens," Power corrected. "And that's how the prophecy twists."
Dark-blue sparks snapped across Power's hands like static before a storm as he stepped forward.
"We won't let that happen."
The group turned toward him—bruised, burned, exhausted, still standing.
"Don doesn't need another legend," Power said, looking up at the night sky. "He needs proof. Proof that when he messes up—because yeah, he will—we're still there."
Kai stood and moved closer to Power, small but steady now. He tugged lightly at the edge of Power's cloak, then looked toward the forest where Don had vanished.
Power nodded once, like he understood.
"Incarceration's betting on judgment," Power continued. "On embarrassment. On Don believing he has to be perfect to matter."
His fists tightened.
"We're going to prove him wrong."
Sophia broke the silence. "I've got spare suits."
Ryan nodded. "Weapons ready in five."
Prince cracked his neck. "Then let's stop wasting daylight."
Olsen, pale but breathing, hauled himself onto Kayson's back. "Don better not apologize when we find him," he muttered. "I'm not letting him."
A few tired smirks flickered through the group.
Kai hopped onto the rubble beside Power, red eyes locked on the horizon, ears lifted now—alert, hopeful, terrified all at once.
Power looked into the darkness, energy humming around him like a promise.
"Hang on, Don," he said quietly.
"We're not judging you."
Kai pressed a paw to his chest, then pointed toward the forest.
Power finished the thought.
"We're coming to get you."
***
South of the Grolian Forest
Dark Don stood atop a low ridge, hidden beneath a knot of trees and brambles.
The night hung black and heavy, the moon cutting through ragged clouds in thin silver streaks. Crickets murmured. The wind sighed.
Then the rain came—cold, steady, tapping on leaves like impatient fingers.
Dark Don stepped out of the brush. Moonlight slid across his silvery scales as he descended the slick slope, landing in mud that swallowed his shoes. He scanned the clearing—ferns, shadows, nothing else.
"Hmph. Not here."
Thunder cracked. Lightning tore open the sky.
And in that flash, he saw him.
Don.
Hanging limply in a tangle of thorns, his hero suit torn to shreds, dust and blood staining every inch. His hood drooped; his gloves had split open, claws showing through the seams. The shredded scarf around his neck fluttered like a fallen banner. His face hung low, hidden in shadow.
Everything went still.
Dark Don stepped closer, brushing Don's cheek with the tip of his tail. Rain and mud smeared across Don's skin. He pulled back, eyes narrowing.
In Don's hand rested a hexagonal black gem, swirling with slow, poisonous energy.
The Incarceration Gem.
Is he dead? I could end him here. But… what if he already is?
Dark Don's gaze shifted—and froze.
The Grolian Beast lay beside Don, green blood spilling from its bark-like hide. Its massive neck was snapped clean, bones jutting out like broken branches.
Dark Don's stomach tightened.
"Don… are you—"
"KX FORM!"
Celestial energy erupted in a white explosion. Dark Don was launched across the clearing, skidding through mud.
He barely raised his head before Don tore free from the vines, wings trembling, blood dripping from fresh gashes.
"WHO DARES WAKE ME FROM MY REST?!"
The voice wasn't his. Not anymore.
Don stalked forward, eyes blazing.
Dark Don wiped his mouth. "The hell is wrong with you?!"
Don didn't respond. He dropped the gem with a dull clink, dark celestial energy pulsing around him.
"I see you've crawled back to challenge me again," he growled. "Don't waste my time."
His wings flared. His scarred tail lashed the ground.
Dark Don rose, lunar energy coiling around his fists. "Fine. Let's settle it."
They slammed into each other, the shockwave splitting the night. Celestial and lunar energy tore through the forest, flattening trees in every direction as they rocketed upward.
Don struck first—relentless. Punch after punch hammered Dark Don's guard. Dark Don countered with a brutal elbow to the jaw, but Don only snarled and axe-kicked him straight back to the earth.
Dark Don crashed through a line of trees.
Don fell on him like a comet, smashing into his chest and shaking the mountainside.
Before Dark Don could breathe, Don yanked him up and hurled him through five trees in a row, each one exploding on impact.
"SCOURGE DON'S FATE!"
Don became a vortex of celestial power and drove his fist into Dark Don's gut. A shockwave blasted outward, flattening the forest for a hundred feet.
Dark Don staggered, blood dripping from his mouth. He summoned a lunar shield—
But Don shattered it instantly.
"SINGULAR DROPKICK!"
The kick rocketed Dark Don across the clearing. He rolled, gasping, and launched a desperate flurry—hook, hook, backhand, kick. Don weaved around each strike with unnatural fluidity.
Celestial chains burst into existence behind Don. He anchored himself, pulling back like a loaded slingshot.
"150% INCREASE—OVERRIDING KICK!"
He shot forward in a blur. His foot collided with Dark Don's face, the impact shattering the air itself.
The final shockwave leveled what remained of the forest, carving a crater into the earth.
At its center, Dark Don knelt—dazed, bleeding, barely conscious.
Don walked past him without a glance.
"Rufty Mountains," he murmured, voice hollow. "Then Celestia will tumble."
A spiral of darkness peeled open beside him.
Incarceration stepped through.
Calm. Composed.
Watching.
"You're getting efficient," he said, a faint smile pulling at his face. "Breaking symbols is always the fastest way to break a world."
Don didn't respond.
Incarceration's eyes flicked toward the fallen Dark Don—then back.
"Finish him," he suggested casually. "Or better yet… save it. There's a bigger message to send."
Don's gaze stayed forward. "After I raze Celestia. Then no one will doubt me again."
Incarceration chuckled under his breath.
"Good. Because doubt is exactly what we're killing."
He stepped closer, voice lowering—more deliberate now.
"Listen carefully. Celestia isn't just a kingdom."
A pause.
"It's a shield."
Thunder rolled.
"As long as the Celestianites stand, Avangard believes it's safe. Protected. Balanced."
His expression darkened.
"So we remove it."
Don's eyes shifted slightly—but he didn't interrupt.
"We destroy Celestia," Incarceration continued, "and wipe out every Celestianite we can reach. Not for territory."
His smile sharpened.
"For fear."
The storm seemed to lean in.
"Because once they fall… every other tribe realizes the truth."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"They were never safe to begin with."
A beat.
"And while the world panics…"
He raised a hand.
Dark energy flickered—forming a distorted image in the air: towering structures, glowing with unstable power.
"The Celestial Pillars."
The illusion pulsed.
"They were built to stabilize the Power Gems. To maintain order."
His fingers curled slightly.
"I'm going to corrupt them."
The image twisted—warping into something wrong.
"They won't stabilize anything anymore."
Another pulse.
"They'll produce."
Shapes began forming—dragons, twisted and hollow-eyed.
"Fake Lunaranites."
"And worse."
His grin widened.
"Alien Uragas. Engineered predators. Weapons that don't think—only destroy."
The illusion collapsed.
Incarceration looked back at Don.
"An army that doesn't need loyalty. Doesn't need belief. Just orders."
Rain poured harder.
"And the Power Gems?" he added, almost amused.
His eyes glinted.
"They're not just power."
A pause.
"They're influence."
His voice dropped further.
"They can be corrupted."
Don finally turned slightly.
Incarceration met his gaze.
"And when they are… they don't just strengthen you."
A faint smile.
"They change you."
Silence stretched.
Then—
"DON!"
The shout ripped through the clearing.
At the treeline, the crew stood, soaked, tense, weapons ready but unraised. Their eyes locked onto him—searching for anything familiar.
They didn't find it.
Javier stepped forward awkwardly, raising his hands.
"Don… we don't wanna fight you. Maybe if you come home we'll, uh… give you free blueberries?"
Silence.
Even the rain seemed confused.
Javier shrugged. "Had to try."
Incarceration didn't look at them.
"Dispatch."
The forest erupted.
The Illegals surged forward in beast form—Ironz, Azure, King, Rusty, Darn, Vironos—cutting through the storm like weapons unleashed.
The crew shifted instantly.
Don didn't move.
Didn't react.
He simply turned his back.
Incarceration faded into the darkness again—watching, always watching.
"I'll get him!" Power shouted, lightning sparking as he shot forward into the storm.
Scourge Don's voice echoed faintly behind him.
"Good-bye."
The clearing fell into chaos as the battle began.
But above it all—
The plan was already in motion.
Celestia would fall.
And when it did—
Avangard would finally understand.
There was never any safety to begin with.