Less than three weeks remained before the tournament.
The multiverse felt the countdown like a tightening heartbeat. Even the chaotic winds of the Riftlands moved with a strange rhythm, as if anticipating something immense.
Nothing was calm.
Nothing was peaceful.
But something had stopped changing.
And that something was the Wolf King.
In the molten cavern where he trained, the Wolf King stood alone, flames creeping across his shoulders in uneasy flickers. He inhaled deeply, summoning the burning essence that had driven his every evolution since birth.
Nothing happened.
No surge.
No mutation.
No new form ripping through his body.
His flames sputtered before stabilizing into their usual shape.
A plateau.
The Wolf King growled, claws digging trenches into the stone.
He focused harder — summoned deeper — forced the rabid mutation in his blood to respond. His muscles tightened. The air convulsed around him.
Still nothing.
Red Howler approached with caution, molten veins glowing beneath charred fur.
"My king… the mutation wells have gone silent."
Hallowjaw rattled his ribcage, confused and restless.
Shadeclaw bowed his head deeply, still haunted by his defeat.
The Wolf King snarled. "I am not finished. I refuse to be finished."
But the power inside him did not rise.
Even predators found limits.
For the first time in his life, the Wolf King tasted the metallic tang of frustration. No new strength. No new fire. No path forward until the tournament allowed conflict again.
No evolution without prey.
He hated it.
He looked upward, sensing the distant aura of the dragon who had knocked Shadeclaw into dust.
Danny.
"Golden one," he whispered. "You rise. And I cannot. The balance is wrong… and I will fix it when the arena opens."
He turned to his lieutenants.
"We do not seek battle. We do not test the truce. We wait."
Shadeclaw stiffened in fear.
Red Howler stared in confusion.
Hallowjaw clacked uncertainly.
The Wolf King's voice dropped to a predatory whisper.
"When the sun arrives at the tournament, I will tear heaven open."
And his flames settled, steady but no longer growing.
A predator held at bay.
A storm contained.
A fire forced to simmer.
Until the moment of release.
Far across the multiverse, a completely different storm brewed — one made not of fire, but of pure, joyous chaos.
Magic Kid surfed across a collapsing nebula on a hover-disc powered by whatever nonsense he felt like using today. He held an orb of swirling colors in one hand and a map of "cool planets" in the other.
"Planet shopping day!" he proclaimed.
He zipped past exploding stars, dodged a sentient cloud creature, and poked his head into a spatial pocket full of sentient broccoli.
"Nope."
Then he saw it.
A glowing blue world with crystalline forests and shimmering auroras.
He gasped dramatically.
"A blank slate!"
He dropped into the atmosphere like a meteor, landing in a meadow where every flower chimed like a bell when touched by wind.
He immediately stamped a foot.
"Mine!"
The world did not respond, so he hit it again with his staff.
"Mine!"
The flowers chimed more nervously.
He raised his arms high.
"I name you… Kidtopia!"
A shockwave of chaotic energy rippled outward, twisting mountains into roller coasters, shaping rivers into swirling loops, and painting the sky with spirals of impossible color.
Magic Kid plopped down in a hammock of sunshine and nonsense.
"Perfect."
For now.
His real plans — the tournament plans — would come later.
Kidtopia was only the beginning.
Between space and reality, Bones drifted through a void where time dared not follow. The six Sealing Stones orbited him, humming with ancient power.
They mocked him.
He summoned a pulse of green cosmic fire, hot enough to erase galaxies.
The stones floated calmly through the inferno.
He hurled destructive blasts meant to tear holes in existence.
The stones remained unmarked.
He slammed them together with enough force to crack dimensions.
They chimed.
Bones hissed — a sound like a star dying.
"Break."
They did not.
He tried again.
"Break!"
Still nothing.
Bones recoiled backward, green fire flaring wildly. The stones circled him, eternal, untouchable, indifferent.
His voice shook the void.
"You were made by Espearia… you were made to bind me. But even the greatest prisons crumble."
One stone chimed louder.
Mocking.
Bones' flames surged brighter, but deep beneath the fury lay something more dangerous:
Patience.
"Someone will weaken you," he whispered. "Someone will bring me the key… or become the key."
He drifted back into the shadows, flames flickering like a dying sun.
The stones hummed quietly.
They did not fear him.
Not yet.
In the Buddies HQ cafeteria, alarms blared in the distance. Command officers argued in the hallways. Five separate crisis teams sprinted across the floor.
Jimmy sat at a table.
Eating waffles.
Not metaphorical waffles.
Real waffles.
Warm. Fluffy. With syrup and berries.
His fork rose.
His fork fell.
Serenity lived in that moment.
An agent skidded to his table, trembling.
"Director Jimmy! The Wolf King's energy signature is flatlining—he stopped evolving! Magic Kid is terraforming entire landmasses without authorization! Bones is—"
Jimmy raised a single finger.
The agent froze mid-breath.
Jimmy took another slow bite.
Another.
Then he set his fork down, sighed, and looked at the agent with the eyes of a man who had aged ten years in the past ten days.
"I am eating waffles."
"Sir—"
"Waffles."
"Y-yes sir—"
"I have earned this."
The agent nodded rapidly and backed away.
Jimmy resumed eating.
This was, objectively, the best moment of his month.
And it would not last.
Back on Earth, Danny knelt on the dojo cliff, eyes closed, aura steady and warm. His golden marks pulsed softly beneath the skin — no longer wild, no longer overwhelming.
Integrated.
Whole.
He exhaled, and the air shimmered with heat.
Swift approached quietly, silver aura refined and sharper than ever.
Jake followed, bronze chi boiling beneath his skin like molten metal.
"You okay?" Swift asked.
Danny opened his eyes.
"I can feel him."
Jake tensed. "The Wolf King?"
Danny nodded.
"He's not getting stronger. Not right now. But he's... waiting. Like he's holding his breath."
Swift frowned. "That should make me feel better. It doesn't."
Danny stood slowly. His presence felt larger, calmer, older.
"It means the next growth he gets will be during the tournament. When we face him."
Jake gulped. "So—no pressure, right?"
Danny smiled just enough to ease the tension.
"We have three weeks."
Swift spun his staff. "Three weeks is enough."
Jake cracked his knuckles. "More than enough."
Oro joined them, robes rustling in the wind.
"Remember," he said, "you are not training to win. You are training to survive. The Wolf King will face you soon… and he is patient only because he must be."
Danny stared into the distance.
"Then we use the time he hates most."
He raised his hand, golden flame swirling around his fingers.
"The waiting."
Swift lifted his staff, silver energy rising.
Jake stomped the ground, bronze power flaring.
Three dragons.
Three colors.
Three destinies that would collide with a king who had plateaued, but not weakened.
The Wolf King stopped moving.
Magic Kid started building.
Bones continued obsessing.
Jimmy finished his waffles.
And the countdown continued, the air tightening with every passing second.
Three weeks left.
Three weeks until the arena.
Three weeks until fate.
And the dragons did not waste a heartbeat