The cold morning air bit at the assembled leaders, a stark contrast to the thousands of battleships and warships that blotted out the sky above the Ogres' Nation. Each vessel, bearing the sigil of a different race, formed a silent, menacing canopy.

​Representatives and royalty from the most powerful races floated, their gazes fixed on the forbidding silhouette of the Ogres' Castle.

​"I didn't expect you to be here, Zoey," said Cain, the eldest son of the Dragon Nation, his voice a low, rumbling baritone. He was magnificent in a suit of black and gold Grand Class armor, though his focus wasn't on the war-readiness of the crowd, but on the princess beside him.

​Zoey, representing the Elves, merely rolled her eyes, the gesture a practiced dismissal of his perceived arrogance. Her silver armor gleamed, a contrast to Cain's more brute-force aesthetic.

"And miss the biggest show in a century? Hardly," she retorted, folding her arms. "Besides, my mother insisted I experience this... 'diplomacy' first-hand."

​"This place reek with blood," Lewis, Cain's quieter, more observant twin, muttered, folding his own arms, his eyes tracing the ancient, weathered walls of the castle. Unlike his brother, his armor was a more subdued, functional grey.

​Cain turned to Lewis, a brief nod acknowledging the truth of the statement. "We can't do anything about that now. We're here to understand who unleashed that unthinkable energy last night." A hint of competitive excitement sparked in his eyes.

​"I wonder why our parents didn't show up. This sort of thing should be handled by them, not us," Sasha, the eldest and only daughter of the Xanor royal family, voiced her frustration. Her crimson armor was both stylish and clearly formidable.

​"Oh, my dad is in that warship," Cain said easily, gesturing with a tilt of his chin toward the largest, most formidable vessel behind him—a colossal black dragon-shape ship.

"Lucky me. I get to be the 'front-facing diplomat' while he watches from the safety of his cabin." His humor, however dark, was an attempt to project confidence.

​"Lucky you. At least your father is here, that's if something goes wrong."

​A new voice cut through, and Casey floated towards them, her movements radiating the focused energy of a seasoned warrior, not just a princess. She removed her helmet, revealing the striking, determined face of the Human race's Princess.

​"Princess Casey?!" The four youths were genuinely stunned.

​"I thought you were in training?" Zoey asked, moving closer, a genuine warmth replacing her usual aloofness. Casey was one of the few she considered an equal.

​"I returned some days back," Casey answered with a small, weary smile, her gaze instantly sweeping over the thousands of ships, assessing the situation like a true military strategist. She turned back to the castle.

"Are we just going to float here? The longer we wait, the more power this entity gains." Her impatience was palpable.

​"I don't know... But I think they're waiting for someone," Sasha replied, her voice tinged with anxiety.

​"Waiting for whom?!" Casey demanded.

​BOOOOOOOM!

​The air fractured, and space itself tore open with a sound that shook the very foundation of the sky. Everyone turned their heads as the remaining eight Council of Immortals flew out of the shimmering rift.

​"Elders!" The youngsters quickly bowed, the competitive energy between them instantly replaced by deep reverence.

​"Why are you children outside?" Valerie asked with a frown that could curdle milk.

​"Was just about to ask that question."

​The space tore open again, less violently this time, and Patrick, the Patriarch of the Dragon Nation, walked out. His long, scarlet robe billowed around him, a figure of overwhelming power.

​"Grandfather!" Both Cain and Lewis quickly straightened up, greeting him with a mix of respect and apprehension.

​"Where is that son of mine?" Patrick asked, his frown deepening.

​"I am here, Father!" Falkor, Cain and Lewis's father, flew towards them, his massive, twin black dragon wings flapping behind him, a look of harried urgency on his face.

​Patrick stared at his son, then at his two grandsons, and sighed softly, an expression of profound weariness washing over him. "Stay close," he commanded Falkor, a quiet warning in his tone. He then turned to the rest of the gathered leaders.

​"Sir Patrick, greetings," Casey moved forward, cutting through the formality. Her gaze was direct, fixed on Patrick and the Immortals, not wavering despite the pressure of their combined presence.

"We are here to meet the one who unleashed the pressure, right?" she asked.

​"Where are you going with this, child?" Jabari asked with a raised eyebrow.

​"Do you think it's right meeting someone with so much firepower, aren't we looking for peace?" Casey cut to the point, gesturing to the thousands of ships around them.

​"Peace is out of the notion, this person nearly wiped out Eldoria last night... So... That's why I can't locate any Star Nation's ships; you stopped them," Leonardo observed, his eyes scanning the massive gathering.

​"Yes. The Dwarves' and Phoenixes' ships are also conspicuously missing," Marie pointed out, her voice sharp.

​Leonardo nodded and turned to Casey, addressing the unspoken tension. "These ships aren't here for war, Princess, but to protect us... If this stranger refuses to negotiate, or starts attacking, we will need a distraction to escape. That is their use."

​"What about the people piloting the ships?" Sasha asked, the idea of sacrificing her people, even as a 'distraction,' sitting like a stone in her stomach.

​Leonardo stared at her for a few seconds, an expression of cold realism settling on his face. He exhaled deeply. "You can do anything you wish, Princess. The ships are yours. We didn't ask you to bring them."

​"Well, I asked them to bring the ships," Patrick interjected, turning to Leonardo, his eyes hard.

"We can't negotiate, you know that. The one who released that energy is a lot stronger than any of us! My initial plan is to destroy this whole planet. The ships will help evacuate the people!" His voice brokered no argument. He was prepared for the ultimate sacrifice.

​Leonardo blinked. Destroying the planet was a sound, terrifying plan, but he knew the success rate of actually destroying that being along with it was incredibly low:

"Do you know who we are against, Patrick?" he asked softly.

​"Huh? We are in the Ogres' Nation, and that is the castle! It only means we are against the Ogre King! He must have done something forbidden to boost his strength!" Falkor yelled, his impatience winning out over his caution.

​"Yes... Falkor is right," agreed Austin, the King of the Elves, who flew in, stopping beside Falkor. "We must teach that King a lesson. After that, we split this nation's territory. He should leave the throne."

​'I am guessing most of them here are after the Ogres' territory. At the moment, I will overlook it,' Leonardo thought.

​WHOOSH!

​A bone-chilling cold wind swept past them. It wasn't the natural wind; it was a wave of pure, cold power. It sent shivers down everyone's spines. Even those inside the heavily armored warships felt the weird, supernatural sensation. The atmosphere became thick, oppressive, the silence profound.

​"Umm... If I'm asking this late, forgive me," Lewis said, his voice quiet, almost lost, turning to Leonardo.

"But who are we meeting?"

​Leonardo's gaze was fixed on the castle, his hand instinctively summoning his sword, which hummed with restrained energy. His voice was a near-whisper, an acknowledgement of the terrifying truth.

​"All I know is, we aren't meeting Chad today. We are meeting someone else entirely."

​Two distinct red lights detached themselves from the castle's highest spire, moving with preternatural speed and precision directly toward the amassed alliance.

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