Rain poured down in relentless sheets, lightning tearing across the sky as thunder shook the Rufty Mountains to their core. Water sluiced over jagged rocks, carving temporary rivers that vanished into the cracks. The moon fought through the clouds, a pale disc barely piercing the storm, while wind howled like a beast, and the sky screamed in violent arcs of light and sound.
Amid the chaos, Scourge Don stood. His talons dug into the jagged stone, black scarf whipping behind him. Dragon-sharp gloves glinted with dark celestial energy, violet eyes glowing as they drank in the storm. Each step made the rain hiss across his scaled body, droplets sliding off his crumpled metallic snout.
A guttural roar split the air. "RRRAAAHHHH!" Don's muscles tensed beneath the pounding rain. From the shadows, a massive figure emerged:
The Razor Drake.
Colossal, its scales jagged as stone, armored like the mountains themselves. Yellow eyes burned through the deluge, jagged horns curving back, tail lashing violently. Water streamed down its angular jaw, and a black insignia flashed across its forehead with every lightning strike. Its roar shook the peaks. "RRRAAAHHHH! RRRRRAAAAARRRGH!"
Don adjusted his mask, talons flexing, wings unfurling. Dark celestial energy rippled across him, reflecting the storm's chaos. Daggers appeared in a blur, spinning with cosmic light.
"Beast of the Ruft Mountains… the Razor Drake," he muttered. "You'll live… for seconds."
He surged forward, a streak of black and violet. Daggers spun in lethal arcs as he leapt, diving at the creature. WHOOSH! The Drake twisted, slamming its tail into him. SMASH! Pain shot through him, but he recovered instantly, daggers twirling as he struck again. ZAAAP!
The Drake roared, jaws snapping. CRAAASH! KRAAACK! Don twisted midair, landing behind it. Daggers flew, metal clanging against scales. CLANG! SHHHINK! Timing his next move perfectly, he grabbed one dagger mid-flip, kicked off the slick rock, and slammed into the beast's flank. THUD! Sliding across rain-slick stone, daggers spun, crimson streaking across its armored body. SPLAT! SWOOSH!
Their clash became a ballet of claws, talons, steel, and cosmic light. Heads swung, tails whipped, wings beat, lightning split the sky. KRAAAANG! THOOM! CRUNCH! Don caught the Drake's snapping jaws between his daggers, teeth gritted behind his mask. ZZZAP!
Channeling dark celestial energy, he unleashed a devastating kick, flipping backward into a blaze of light. Dust, rain, and blood mingled as they skidded across the stones. BOOM! WHOOM! Don rose, daggers spinning, scarf soaked and trailing.
"If this is all you can do…" His voice cut through the storm. "…then you are a waste of my time."
In a blur, he teleported before the Drake, dagger plunging into its skull. SHING! KRAAK! ZZZAAAP! Lightning illuminated its final shuddering roar. Blood oozed down its neck as it hit the ground. "RRRAAAHHHH!"
Rain washed over Don's tattered form, wings spread, mask glinting, daggers poised.
"Thank you…"
***
The dragons cut through a storm so violent it felt alive. Rain slashed sideways, lightning ripped the midnight sky open, and thunder rolled across the heavens like a war drum. The clouds above writhed in shifting grays, drowning the world in a waterfall of cold fury. Trees bent under the weight of the wind.
Mud swallowed the forest floor.
Every raindrop hit like a warning.
High above, Starla and Scorch carved through the chaos, wings beating against the storm's wrath. Flashes of lightning lit their scales in shards of white and violet as they fled—fast, desperate. After the last attack, they both knew one thing:
Dreadixz would not let them get away.
Not for long.
Starla's ears twitched. She peered down through the sheets of rain. "Forest," she called, raising her voice over the thunder. "We disappear there."
No debate. They dove.
The wind clawed at their wings as they ripped through the treetops, crashing into the drenched underbrush. Mud splattered. Branches snapped. Shadows swallowed them whole.
"I think we're clear," Starla murmured, scanning the storm-dark forest. "I'm shifting."
Her body erupted into a soft white glow, the beast form dissolving into something smaller, more human, more vulnerable. Wings folded tight against her back. Her curled horns gleamed beneath blond hair streaked with indigo. Her tail flicked nervously. But the biggest change—
Her eyes.
Once golden.
Now a piercing, icy sky-blue.
Scorch eyed her, silently asking the question neither of them wanted to voice: What now?
Starla adjusted her jacket and stepped forward, slow, cautious—
Then she froze.
"You hear that?" she whispered.
A sound echoed through the trees.
Not human.
Not dragon.
A scream—raw, guttural, ancient.
Something that didn't belong here.
Scorch stepped in front of her, fire flickering in his throat. His growl vibrated the ground beneath them.
The scream came again. Closer.
Without speaking, they pushed forward, forcing their way through drenched leaves until the forest opened into the Rufty Mountains.
Titanic stone pillars towered over them, jagged cliffs stabbing into the storming sky. The canyon floor below was a graveyard of shattered rocks and torn plants, wind spiraling through it like a ghost.
The scream ripped through the mountains once more—much closer.
They sprinted toward the sound—
Thwip!
A dagger tore through the air toward them.
Scorch lunged, snatching the blade between his teeth, spitting it onto the mud with a metallic clatter. Both stared at it—double-edged steel, glowing with violent violet energy.
Blood stained the handle.
Old. Dried.
Not much.
Whoever used it didn't need weapons.
Starla looked up—
and her breath left her.
At the base of the mountain lay a Drake. A beast of legend. A titan of Rufty Mountain—
dead.
Its stone-like scales were cracked open like shattered armor. Its tail lay curled, unmoving. The dagger embedded deep in its skull pulsed with faint celestial light. A spear of earth jutted through its throat, planted into the ground like a grave marker.
Starla stumbled back, hands over her mouth. "W-We need to leave," she whispered. Even at twelve, this was too much. Far too much.
But then—
Snap.
Dark indigo chains burst from the air and wrapped around their bodies, yanking both dragons upward. They thrashed, suspended midair as celestial bindings constricted around their limbs.
Scorch roared, fire erupting wildly. The chains held tight.
Then—
someone fell from the sky.
A figure slammed into the mud with a heavy thud, rain splashing off his broken armor.
Starla twisted to see him clearly—
and her heart dropped.
He wore a once-heroic suit now torn to ribbons, soaked in rain, dirt, and dried blood. His dragon-like mask was cracked, barely hanging on. Blood dripped from beneath it, trailing from a wound near his right eye.
His left eye burned with purple celestial fire.
His wings—
one missing entirely,
the other dragging behind him in tatters.
A shredded violet cape clung to his shoulders. His gloves were ripped to claw-like shreds. His shoes looked half-destroyed.
"HEY!" Starla shouted, struggling against the restraints.
The figure lifted his head slightly. He tilted it. Then—snap. The chains vanished. Starla and Scorch hit the mud hard, gasping. Scorch stepped forward, flames lighting his throat again, but Starla threw an arm out, stopping him. Her eyes locked onto the stranger. Something about him felt familiar. Wrongly familiar. Like a memory that existed only in nightmares.
"What's your name?" she asked softly. "Did you… kill that Drake?"
The Celestianite coughed, his voice low, worn, and empty.
"Don," he said.
A beat. A shadow passed over him. "But I guess I'll be Scourge Don forever…" He turned away, dragging himself through the mud, every step heavy, every breath sharp.
Before he vanished into the rain, he shot her a sideways glare—cold enough to pierce bone.
"Who do you claim to be?"
Starla steadied her voice. "Starla. Princess of Celestia. And you're Don, right? One of the Chosen Ones? I… I heard about you. Just not like this."
Don shrugged, not bothering to look back.
"Whatever." He kept walking. The darkness followed. Starla watched him disappear into the storm—
and something unfamiliar twisted in her chest.
Fear.
Pity.
Curiosity.
Something else she couldn't name yet. Whoever Don used to be… this wasn't him. This was something far more dangerous.
***
Thunder cracked overhead, echoing the ferocity of the battle below. Claws slashed, metal clanged, and screams pierced the storm. Ella leapt onto Rusty's back, her claws ripping through his hide as he roared beneath her. Nearby, Olsen tore into Dark Olsen's reinforced legs, biting and striking with primal rage. High above them, the sky became a battleground of its own.
Prince and Dark Prince—also known as King—raced through the storm like twin bolts of lightning. Rain poured as they zigzagged across the clouds, each one a blur of elemental power. Prince's feathers sparked with live current, his speed unmatched, but Dark Prince trailed arcs of magnetic electricity behind him, like a comet of pure voltage. They collided in midair with a deafening boom, shockwaves tearing through the stormclouds.
Lightning danced around them as Prince streaked forward, slamming into King with a crushing beak-strike, then diving toward the earth like a meteor. Their impact lit up the forest in a massive electrical explosion that knocked over trees and split the ground. Both warriors morphed back to their regular forms. Prince rose first, spun, and landed a blinding punch to King's jaw. Blood flew from King's mouth as he stumbled back, snarling.
Prince launched forward, punching King's gut with a charged attack that hurled him across the forest floor. King flipped and skidded, then locked eyes with Prince.
He began charging up, magnetic electricity crackling and coiling around him like a snake. He lifted his arms, shouting, "TAKE THIS!" and fired bolts of magnetism from his fingers, faster than bullets. Prince was caught in the blast, electricity dancing across his body. King blitzed him from all angles, appearing and vanishing with each strike, his fists a blur. With a final, monstrous punch, he sent Prince flying through trees and brush.
As King prepared to finish it, his magnetic energy dragged the battlefield behind him—trees, vines, debris all following his motion like possessed objects. Prince saw it all coming. He clenched his fists. "Magnetic surge, huh? Do better." Electricity surged through him. His hair lit up, a blue glow spreading across his body as his form began to shift.
Electricity spiraled around him in tighter and tighter coils until he erupted in a flash of raw power. Prince wasn't just glowing—he was electricity now. He had become something else. Something more. He had become Voltron. His fists crackled with energy. His eyes glowed with intensity. A V etched into his left eye, a P in the right. Voltron Prince had arrived. "You know what's funny?" he smirked. "Let's take this to the next level."
King roared, electricity bursting from him as he matched the transformation. "If there's a Voltron, there's a Xoltron. COME ON, BABY!" They clashed, lightning streaking from the impact, their shockwaves shaking the very earth.
The battle became a blur of fists, sparks, and fury. They punched, dodged, soared through the storm, clashing like titans. Voltron soared up, then dove, catching King in tendrils of lightning. Spinning into a vortex, he launched him into the ground with a move called, "50 THUNDEROUS SEASONS!" The explosion shook the forest, a geyser of light and energy erupting into the stormy sky.
Voltron landed beside the smoldering crater and struck again with a crackling uppercut. "VOLTRON'S PROMISE!" King rocketed into the air. Voltron followed with a punch to the gut so powerful it shattered the air. Then, in a blur of motion, Voltron vanished and reappeared around King, striking from every direction like a barrage of thunderbolts. Then came the final strike. A scream cut through the storm: "THE THIRD CHOSEN ONE!" The world exploded with light.
Dark Prince slammed into the ground, bleeding and broken. Voltron stood above him, triumphant. "Ooh," he said with a cocky grin. "I thought things were about to get wild. What happened?" King struggled to his feet, smirking through blood. Prince's expression hardened.
"You know," he said, walking forward slowly, "I used to wonder what kind of world we'd live in if none of this ever happened. If we were just… normal. But this—this is what we were chosen for. I get it now." Suddenly, the forest grew quiet. A slow, rhythmic clanking echoed through the rain-drenched battlefield.
Everyone froze. Prince turned. Emerging from the trees was a figure bathed in violet aura. A Zenith. His body shimmered like an animated silhouette, glowing eyes locked onto Prince. In his hand: all the Power Gems. On his arm: a futuristic, steel-armored watch pulsing with power. The Zenith dropped the Gems and smirked. "Well," he said coolly, "if it isn't the lovely heroic crew." He turned to the Illegals, who had also stopped fighting. "You guys can go on. I'll take care of them." Prince clenched his fists, eyes darting toward the mysterious figure standing beneath the dark sky.
"Who the heck are you?!" The figure tilted his head, smug. "I don't know… maybe you'll find out." He snapped his fingers. Suddenly, eleven Lunaranites burst from the trees like shadows made flesh. The storm above slowly faded, the rain easing to a misty drizzle—but the clouds still churned, black and menacing.
The crew instinctively backed into a tight formation, tension spiking. The Lunaranites surrounded them with cold precision, weapons drawn, locking every angle.
There was no way out. The figure stood calmly in the middle, purple energy crackling and pulsing around a floating orb at his hands. It whirred like a charged motor, glowing in deep violet hues. He didn't even touch it—the orb just spun and hovered, dancing between his fingers like it was alive. He smirked, baring razor-sharp teeth that gleamed under the silver light of the moon. Everyone was sweating bullets.
Olsen could barely keep upright. "Oh, awesome! Lunaranites in every corner! Perfect! Just what I needed after getting slammed by a metallic brachiosaurus tail!" Archie glared. "WHO EVEN ARE YOU?!" The figure raised an eyebrow. "Hmm… you're thinking about running, huh." The crew froze. Because that's exactly what they were thinking. The figure's voice dropped into a teasing growl. "The little Earth guy's even thinking about eating rocks."
"HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST—THAT'S A VIOLATION OF PRIVACY!" Olsen snapped, wide-eyed. The figure shrugged. "Oh well." He clenched the orb tightly in one hand.
The Power Gems suddenly lit up with a dark violet glow and started to levitate. Ella gasped, looking up. "What are you doing?! Leave them alone!" From the earth, glowing purple chains erupted like snakes and wrapped around the crew—fast. They bound arms, legs, even torsos. Some dropped to their knees, others struggled to stay standing. Demaurion went feral, roaring like a true Leviathan. He thrashed, bit down on the chains with his fangs, but nothing gave.
Everyone fought to break free—but it was no use. The figure laughed, deep and cold. "You're all hopeless. Take 'em in, boys." He glanced up.
"Power Gems… scatter." The gems shot into the sky like missiles, reaching the clouds—then suddenly split off, vanishing in all directions like stars flung from a dying sun.
"No—NO!" Prince yelled, straining against the chains. "NOT THE POWER GEMS!" Lunaranites soared through the air, diving back to the ground like deadly hawks with spears raised. They landed with eerie silence, weapons aimed straight at the crew's hearts. Eli didn't speak. He just kept struggling against the chains, silent and furious.
Then—Vironos turned to the figure, grinning. "Thanks for your part. Now finish the job. We're heading to Phase Two." The Illegals sprinted off, leaving the crew trapped with the stranger. And then—boom. Something heavy touched down. At all costs. A towering shadow stepped forward. It was him. "DREADIXZ!" the entire crew roared in unison, voices filled with horror.
They were surrounded. Eleven Lunaranites. Chains. A mysterious figure. And now… Dreadixz himself, wings folded behind his back like a fallen god. His grin was monstrous. "You know, Krane," Dreadixz said, turning to the orb-wielding figure, "there's a reason I hired you. And you delivered." Demaurion thrashed harder. "LET US GO BEFORE I RIP YOUR HEAD OFF, YOU SON OF A—!" Dreadixz raised a hand casually. "Woah, woah, woah. No need to get hasty, my friend. We're just taking you to a little place called… Foreshade."
His voice oozed menace. And in that moment—just from that name alone—the crew knew… They were already doomed.