The Elemelons looked up to see the princess standing on the balcony, her hand raised in command. Tall and slender, she radiated an authority that seemed to press down on the arena itself. Seed-like freckles dotted her arms, and her long, flowing dress cascaded to meet the tips of her equally long hair. Despite the golden wreath and shimmering trinkets that crowned her, her regal image was marred by silk bandages wound tightly around her upper body and face, leaving only her plush lips visible—pressed into a tense, unforgiving scowl.

The arena floor cracked and quivered. Instinctively, the Elemelons dropped to their knees and bowed.

“The Trials are over. I’ve seen enough,” her soft voice croaked, carrying across the arena with chilling finality.

She turned sharply. “All of you, go home.”

The words seemed to echo far longer than they should have, heavy and final. The Elemelons glanced at each other, searching for some sign that she didn’t mean it.

“I said leave!” the princess roared. The sound cracked like thunder, and the last intact windows burst apart, showering the floor with glittering shards.

The workers didn’t hesitate. They abandoned their stations, fleeing in a tide of footsteps and panicked whispers. The Elemelons rose slowly, each movement heavy, as though the command itself had stripped the energy from their limbs.

From above, Tempest dropped from the balcony, cape slicing through the dust-loaded air. She landed before them with a faint thud. “I’m sorry about all this,” she said quietly, her eyes flicking to the princess’s retreating figure. “We’re… having things talked out.”

Sky’s voice wavered. “Were we that bad?”

Tempest hesitated, then forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She’s just… not in the best mood right now. I think it’s best you head back to the hangout for now.”

“But what about the broadcast?”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll edit the footage.”

“I thought it was live,” Furna whispered to Terrain.

Tempest’s smile faltered. “Anyway… get some rest. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” But even as she said it, her tone betrayed her doubt. With a flap of her cape, she was gone.

The Elemelons drifted toward the exit, the air around them feeling colder.

Sky sniffled, her voice breaking. “I can’t believe I failed.”

“No. We failed,” Terrain said gently, resting a reassuring hand on her head. “We all made mistakes.”

“Yeah,” Furna added, trying to brighten the mood, “it just means we have a lot to work on.”

Sky gave a slow nod, though her eyes stayed downcast.

Furna stopped and extended her hand with a determined smile. “Three cheers to the beginning of the new Elemelons.”

Terrain and Sky exchanged glances, then placed their hands over hers.

With tired voices, they raised their arms in a half-hearted cheer.

Hands still raised, Terrain turned his head, scanning the arena. “…Wait. When did Pip leave?”