The ground trembled again, not from the storm or psychic energy, but from something far more ferocious.
A deafening roar echoed through the stronghold's stone halls, followed by the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against walls and the whoosh of scorching flames.
Outside the base, a squad of Dragon warriors rampaged through the Thunder-Psychic alliance's defenses. Their general, a towering figure named Ragnar, led the charge - his crimson scales glowing like molten rock, and his wings spreading wide enough to darken the sky. His very presence was a warning, the dragons were here for a fight.
Unlike the strategic battles between fire and ice or the calm manipulations of the psychic tribe, the dragons didn't fight for land or dominance - they fought for glory. For them, combat was a demonstration of power, a way to assert their strength and remind every tribe why they were feared.
Ragnar's voice thundered through the air.
"Come out and face us, or we'll tear this place apart!"
_ _ _
Within the stronghold, Princess Zephyr and Prince Raiden exchanged a look.
For the first time, since capturing the four rival rulers, there was a flicker of something neither wanted to show - fear.
The Thunder Tribe relied on precision, speed, and controlled strikes - but the dragons were pure brute force. The Psychic Tribe mastered subtlety and deception - but dragons didn't fall for illusions.
And now, a dragon raid was crashing into their secret base like an unstoppable storm.
Raiden gritted his teeth, electricity crackling faintly at his fingertips. "They're not supposed to be here..."
Zephyr's aura pulsed in annoyance. "They're here because they smell weakness. They want to show us that no matter how powerful we think we are - they are stronger."
The two rulers stiffened as another roar split the air.
"BRING OUT YOUR STRONGEST, OR WE'LL DRAG THEM OUT OURSELVES!"
Zephyr and Raiden quickly ordered their soldiers to barricade the prison halls, reinforcing the gates with crackling electric fields and psychic barriers. Layers of protection rippled across the stone corridors - anything to stop the dragons from reaching the prisoners.
The plan was simple: Keep the rulers locked away. If the dragons couldn't break through, they'd eventually lose interest.
Or so they hoped.
_ _ _
As the base rumbled under the dragon assault, the tension inside the prison grew just as intense - though for very different reasons.
In one cage, Prince Arson and Princess Sylvia sat pressed against opposite sides - the tight space forcing them uncomfortably close. Despite their obvious distaste for one another, they remained oddly silent, the crackling energy of the psychic bars between them draining Arson's heat every time he so much as flexed a muscle.
In the other cage, Prince Glacius and Princess Peggy mirrored that same cold silence - their own bars sparking with electric jolts whenever Glacius's icy aura flared too strongly or Peggy's golden wings brushed too close.
But the quiet didn't last long.
Sylvia's eyes, still blazing with frustration, snapped toward Peggy. "This is your fault."
Peggy's golden glow shimmered faintly as she lifted her chin. "My fault? I wasn't the one too slow to stop Arson."
Sylvia's voice rose. "You were supposed to handle Glacius - and look where we are now. Stuck in cages like trophies."
Peggy's wings fluttered sharply, the motion stirring a faint breeze inside the cramped cell. "At least I didn't grow a bunch of useless vines that got burned the moment they sprouted."
Sylvia's hands clenched into fists. "I was balancing his destruction - which is more than I can say for you not able to stop Glacius when he froze everything."
From the other cage, Glacius's icy voice broke through. "It's not my fault your forests are too fragile."
Sylvia's glare darted toward him. "Stay out of this."
Arson finally smirked. "Yeah, Glacius. Let the princesses fight - seems like they've taken after us."
That earned a sharp look from Glacius - but neither prince pressed the insult further. They simply watched their rival princesses clash with words, a strange sense of déjà vu hanging in the air.
Arson leaned his head back against the cold metal of the cage. "Reminds me of us, doesn't it?"
Glacius' smile was ice-cold. "Unfortunately, yes."
The rivalry between Sylvia and Peggy - fierce, emotional, and relentless - was starting to mirror the very rivalry between Arson and Glacius.
Two princesses, each standing for opposing elements.
Two princes, each fighting for dominance.
And now, both pairs were forced to share their prisons with their enemies.
As the battle raged outside, and their captors scrambled to secure the base, the imprisoned rulers were left alone with their growing fury - not just at their enemies but at their own failures.
Sylvia and Peggy's argument became sharper, with every insult escalating:
Sylvia mocked Peggy's overconfidence and how it got her captured.
Peggy jabbed back at Sylvia's "inability" to stop Arson's flames from devouring her land.
And the princes simply watched - not because they were above the pettiness - but because they realized something far more dangerous:
The rivalries weren't just between the fire and nature tribes... or ice and fairy.
The future leaders themselves were becoming just as blinded by their grudges as their tribes.
The thunder of battle outside the stronghold had faded into a distant rumble, but inside the cramped, dimly lit prison cell, the storm was only beginning.
The rival rulers - Arson, Sylvia , Glacius, and Peggy - found themselves in an unbearable silence that was louder than any roar outside.
The flickering glow of the psychic and electric bars bathed their faces in shifting light - but the real sparks were crackling between them.
The air inside the prison was suffocating - not from the small cages or the lack of space - but from the clashing egos and rising tempers.
And then - finally - it broke.
Sylvia's voice, low and sharp, cut through the stillness.
"I can't believe I'm stuck here - with you." She shot a withering glare at Arson, pressed too close for her liking.
Arson's molten red eyes flicked to her, his signature smirk spreading across his face like a slow-burning flame. "Oh, you think I'm enjoying this? I should be out there, burning down more of your precious forests."
Sylvia's jaw clenched. "And I should be out there regrowing every single one - faster than you can burn them."
In the next cage, Peggy's golden wings quivered in agitation. "And I should be finishing what I started with Glacius."
Glacius, ever composed, leaned lazily against the back of the cage, his icy gaze unbothered. "Please. You weren't even close to winning, princess."
Peggy's wings flared brighter. "Says the ice prince locked in a cage next to me. If I hadn't been distracted, you would've been the one melted."
"Distracted by your own failure." Glacius's words were cold as ever, slicing straight to the point.
The tension between the pairs burned and froze at once - a chaotic blend of heat and ice.
Sylvia pointed a finger at Arson, frustration rippling through her voice. "You didn't even try to control yourself - you just kept burning and burning. It's no wonder your tribe is hated."
Arson's smirk faltered - just for a moment - before flaring back. "Better to burn bright than wilt like your pathetic plants."
Sylvia's green eyes darkened. "At least my tribe doesn't destroy everything it touches."
Peggy, meanwhile, had stepped closer to the electrified bars between her and Glacius, her golden glow illuminating the icy prince's stone-cold features.
"Your ice doesn't bring peace, Glacius - it suffocates everything. You freeze life itself."
Glacius's lips barely moved. "And your light blinds people into false hope. I don't suffocate life - I preserve it in perfection."
Peggy's wings flared again. "Perfection? You're just as reckless as Arson - except your destruction is slow and silent."
Glacius's icy aura pulsed dangerously. "At least I don't melt everything into a pile of ash."
It became painfully clear - their rivalries weren't just political.
Sylvia vs. Arson was fire and nature - destruction and regrowth - always battling, never yielding.
Peggy vs. Glacius was light and ice - warmth and cold - fighting not just for dominance but for the very essence of what they represented.
But now, trapped together - those elemental clashes were personal.
The way Arson's fire threatened to consume everything Sylvia stood for...
The way Glacius's ice symbolized everything Peggy sought to illuminate...
Their hatred wasn't just for their tribes - it was for each other.
As the princesses' argument started again and escalated, something shifted in the princes' expressions.
For once, Arson and Glacius weren't trading insults.
Instead, they watched the princesses - not with amusement, but with growing intensity.
Arson, arms crossed, his usual smugness dimmed, muttered under his breath to Glacius.
"They hate each other almost as much as we do."
Glacius's cold stare didn't move from Peggy. "They're... just like us."
And that realization - that their rivalries had bled into the next generation of leaders - hit both princes harder than they expected.
There wasn't just a war between fire and nature - or ice and fairy.
There was a war between them. Between the very rulers meant to shape the future of their tribes.