A gray overcast spreads across the skies of Berk. The pounding of Outcast soldiers echoes through the quiet streets, mimicking the sound of thunder. They march through the streets, the Square, the Plaza; squad after squad until every street has a squad marching through it. The village has become gray, quiet, abandoned. Hadrian watches from the roof of Hiccup's old home. Poised at the top of the banister, his hands held behind his back, he gazes at the village. He smiles, then turns and walks off.

Fog dwindles through the houses and alleyways. Small divisions of men stand on the sides of the street, standing straight and tall. The wind rushes through the streets, howling at the houses. Blowing debris and shrapnel everywhere. Hadrian, now at the Academy, watches from the stage as the men march through the streets, and now two men stand guard at the front of the Academy. Alvin and Mildew usually hang out in the arena, but Hadrian couldn't care, as long as they were out of his hair. Hadrian decides to enter the arena while some men were currently sharpening some weapons. They stop and ten hut when Hadrian walks by.

"At ease men." Hadrian orders. Alvin and Mildew break their conversation and face Hadrian.

"Sir." Alvin says.

Hadrian nods, then turns and looks up to the sky, listening to the distant thundering of the marching men.

"I still can't believe that ninety-pound Doppelganger, single-handedly managed to bring the entire village of Berk to its knees." Alvin tries to whisper to Mildew.

Hadrian chuckles. "Well believe it, Alvin, because it's happening."

At the sound of Hadrian's voice, Alvin goes rigid. Hadrian simply chuckles while peering over his shoulder. He then returns his gaze to the sky.

"A world without Stoick and his Vikings. I was beginning to think I'd never see the day. But at long last, the village is ours, and victory is mine." He turns to the men, and they straighten their form. "Fine work gentlemen. You have made me very proud."

"Thank you sir. It was fun." Alvin says, saluting Hadrian.

"And, as a reward, I'd like to promote you to Commander." Hadrian says.

This catches Alvin by surprise and it takes a moment to process. "Honestly, sir?"

"Yes, while I had my doubts with you, and while your lie from the past is still fresh, you've proven your loyalty, and for that, this is your reward." Hadrian explains.

"Thank you sir, that's quite an honor." Alvin says.

The gate to the arena opens, and Savage – along with a small gathering of men behind him – enter the arena. Savage salutes Hadrian and Hadrian tells him to at ease.

"Savage report." Hadrian commands.

"Sir, sector five is secure. Although it's been pretty quiet around here since all the people cleared out." Savage says.

"Hm, better get used to it men." Hadrian says as he makes his way out of the arena and up to the stage where he takes his seat in the chief's chair. "This village is only the first of many."

The sudden sound of a struggle catches his attention. He looks to see two guards escorting the black-haired girl from before. Heather. An eerie smile comes across his lips, and he gets up out of his chair to meet Heather and the guards. Her clothes had rips and tears in the, and they seemed to be covered with dirt. Her hair was still in a braid, but loose strands made it look messier than normal.

"Who do we have here?" he asks as the men force Heather to kneel in front of him.

"We caught her hiding in one of the ships near the dock." One guard says and he yanks her head back so she's forced to look to him. Her green eyes blink open and she scowls.

Hadrian simply smiles. "Interesting to see you around here gorgeous." He says and he motions the men to bring her up to her feet.

She doesn't say anything, she just stares him down.

"Not much of a talker are you?"

"I have nothing to say to you." she hisses.

"So sorry it has to end this way, Heather." Hadrian traces his fingers along her shoulder, causing her to cringe, then he cups the nap of her neck. "It really does pain me to see a beautiful bloom like yourself to be reduced to such a low." He says while he braises his knuckles along her chin.

She cringes more and her feelings overwhelm her so much she nearly passes out. But Hadrian catches her and holds her up by her biceps. She manages to stand on her feet, but she's still weak.

"What shall we do with her sir?" the second guard asks.

Hadrian looks to her and she stares at him. The innocence in her eyes somehow touched Hadrian in some way.

He raises an eyebrow, and smiles. "Well, I don't seem to have a reason to eliminate you. So lucky you, you live to breathe another day. Keep her in one of the houses." He orders, and then he takes her arm and pulls her close, his lips brushing against her ear. "I think I might have a use for you."

Heather shudders and she never felt so happy to be taken away by the guards. Hadrian licks the corner of his mouth as he watches the men take her away.

Through the day, Hadrian makes his own scouting rounds around the village. His mind is rather occupied by the reminiscing of what he's gone through. He flashes back to when he was just a memory inside Hiccup's head, and now, he's the ruler of Berk. Hadrian's walk has led him back to Hiccup's house, with the Great Hall in sight.

"Well, it looks like we did it. They're really gone."

Deep underground, within the abandoned tunnels of the Whispering Death, a small fire glows across the stone. Casting a red glow across the rock, shadows dance across like in their own little world, where darkness doesn't exist, and nothing can harm them. Stoick tosses more sticks onto the fire, and the crackling is the closest thing to comfort he has.

He tries to suspend time and just be still for another moment, to let his tired and sore muscles rest. Cuts trail along his arms and hands; he can't even clench them without leaking blood. His clothes were shredded and soaked with blood. Somehow, he's still alive.

After Hadrian cued the dragon to attack, it pounded him into the dirt. It would've done more, and much worse if Stoick hadn't pretended to play dead after the first slam. After sinking faster into the dirt and ground, Stoick had managed to explore deeper into the tunnels and find refuge for now. Not long after, he found Gobber, wobbly walking around the tunnels himself. He knew Gobber was a fighter; somehow, he'd managed to find land and they ran into each other in the tunnels.

Gobber left in the search for more survivors. But it's not like it matters. The village now belongs to Hadrian. It's over.

"Stoick!" Gobber suddenly calls, startling him.

Stoick looks up and sees Gobber walking, with something on his shoulder. No, not something. Someone. A closer look once they entered the cast of the fire shows that it's Fishlegs.

"Fishlegs!" Stoick exclaims. He springs up from his seat and aids Gobber in helping him over to the fire. "You're alright."

"Alive, but not okay." Fishlegs says with a rusty voice. And on cue his stomach growls like a hound.

They set him in front of the fire and Gobber immediately sits at his side to inspect his wounds and cuts. There were some small bits of rock embedding in his arms and hands, his pant legs were filled with holes, which explains why they have the less damage. The cuts were nothing serious, perfectly capable of healing on their own, but still a concern for infections.

"Do you know what happened to the dragons?" Stoick asks as he sits across the fire.

"I don't know." Fishlegs says. "The last thing I remember was Meatlug and Hookfang being blasted with the Scaudron's boiling water. Then the ground opened up beneath us, and Snotlout fell first," Fishlegs' voice hitches as he remembers Snotlout's scream falling down the hole.

"You're not going to cry are you?" a sudden voice rings out.

Fishlegs cowers and Stoick and Gobber stand ready, only see Snotlout materialize from the shadows. He is in the same condition as Fishlegs, possibly more cuts, but alive.

"Snotlout!" Fishlegs cries with joy. "You're back! You're okay!"

"Lucky us." Gobber mumbles under his breath.

"Well, I will admit I'm a little banged up, but it's nothing I can't handle." Snotlout boasts, only to be deflated as he whines and wince as he tries to sit down. But he's alive.

"Is Hookfang with you?" Stoick asks, yet already knowing the answer. He just needed something to extinguish the flicker of hope in his chest.

Snotlout shakes his head. And adding on a sulk look at the reminder of where his dragon is now.

"Is Astrid okay?" he asks, appearing genuinely concerned.

Everyone just lowers their heads. There was still no sign of Astrid since the team split. Stoick fears the worst, and Fishlegs' words only seemed to fan the flame.

"Before Hadrian, 'finished me off', he said to give his regards to Astrid." He says fidgeting with his hands.

"Well, we obviously can't give up yet, as long as we're still here, there's got to be something that Thor's telling us." Gobber interjects. "I'm sure she's out looking for us, and we just need to hope."

Hope. The word that seems so foreign to Stoick since the day Hiccup perished. He had lost all of it, and it took Hadrian to conqueror his village to see it now. And before he faces the disappointment, he immediately stops himself from feeling the slightest hope that Hiccup is somehow miraculously alive. It's hard enough that he can barely comprehend that he's passed, how could facing the possibility that he's alive be any better.

And yet, maybe it wasn't denial.

Sure he wasn't physically with him, right now, but if he were really, truly gone, then Stoick would've gotten a feeling. And so far, nothing. Stoick tries not to let it get to him, it's nothing but false.

Meanwhile, back down by the shoreline, Astrid awoke to the sound of a voice. The sound echoes in her head, starting her from her sleep, causing her to rocket upward. She felt her chest tighten as her heart leaps into triple speed. She gasps and scrambles up, gripping the sand beneath her with clawed hands, surprised when she did not feel the coarse dryness of dirt, or the brittle bite of grit. She grew still and listens, her gaze darting.

There were no Outcasts. No demon dragons. Only cold, white moonlight. Astrid lets out a breath of relief, and pulls her knees into her chest. She tries to remember what happened, how she got here, and where she's supposed to go. The last she can recall was Hadrian's Scauldron pulling her down and pelting her with its water breath. She turns to her side and sees a small puddle of water. Her clothes were nearly dry, so she's been here for some time, and the puddle has nearly vanished into the moisten sand. Her throat stings when she swallows and she has a bitter aftertaste of salt on her tongue.

She tries to remember.

After Hadrian had blasted her with the water, she was flung deeper into the water. There was pain, a burning, and a darkness. Then it went away. She had gotten used to the water, and the world had darkened around her. Then something wrapped around her and hauled her through the water and to the surface. There was a lot of coughing since her lungs were so used to water. By the time they got to the shore, her lungs were burning for air and the brief peace she felt was gone.

The darkness, it helped her. It was someone; she remembers being tossed onto the shore, flipped on her back, and a shadow loomed over her. It's becoming more clearly when she remembers the fear she felt when she thought it was Hadrian ready to really finish her off. The shadow had put its hands together, one over the other, and slammed them into her chest.

Water gushed up her throat, through her nose and it burned and suffocated her mouth. The shadow reached out and turned her head to the side and she spewed into the sand.

That explains the puddle. Then the rest it pretty much a blank. Her body left her no choice and she slept. The fight and near death must've weakened her tremendously.

Now all she has to do is find a way out of here, and find the others.

If she can.

She turns around and sees the edge of the forest. She recognizes this shoreline. It was the same one where she followed Heather the first time she came to Berk. Astrid pushes herself to her feet, and her knees wobble under her. She's a little groggy from not walking and all the pain her body has taken from the battle. Then she's suddenly dropping to her knees and gasping for breath.

Stormfly.

She was bitten by the Scauldron. Not knowing how long ago that was, she could be dead by now. Astrid hugs her middle to dull the sudden sting that stabs her. She tries to fight back the sting in her eyes, but a stray tear makes its way down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers through her sobs.

Suddenly a Nadder call echoes through the forest. Her head snaps up and she looks around. It happens again and she listens closer. It wasn't a real Nadder, but it was very authentic. Someone was calling her; but it was so distant she couldn't hear the tone in the call to recognize anyone. With nothing but the water at her back, she does the unthinkable and unexpected. She follows the call.

She gets to her feet and cautiously enters the woods. The call never stops, its quiet for a few seconds, then it calls again. It felt as if it was leading her somewhere. Whenever she thought she has found its origin, it would call from somewhere else. She doesn't see any phantom shadows or rustling in the bushes. This is probably a bad idea, but what other choice does she have. Her dragon's locked somewhere in the village dying, and her friends and chief are all allegedly dead. It is her only option.

She follows the mysterious call for a few minutes. It leads her to a battlefield, or at least a clearing that mimics a battlefield. Burn marks, scared trees, claw marks and deep ruts all over the place. She walks around to see multiple gigantic holes around the clearing. The Whispering Death and Stoick, Gobber. She can't tell who won, but it sure seemed to be some fight. She walks around until she comes to a hole bigger than seemingly bigger than the rest. Maybe it was the main one the dragon used for its attacks.

Astrid peers down, and suddenly she feels a pressure on her back, and the next thing she knows, she's falling and swirling around down the tunnel. The moonlight fades until she's completely swallowed by darkness. She can't scream, her throat's too dry, and she still hasn't found any water. All she can do is take the unexpected swirls and turns until she crashes into a main tunnel. She does her best to role on her feet, but she's still weak.

She pushes herself up and dusts off her skirt. She looks around and small streams of moonlight manage to provide a small but helpful amount of moonlight. It's not much but better than stumbling around in the dark.

Astrid wanders aimlessly, keeping her hand along the wall to ensure a definite side of this dark tunnel. She lets her hand trace over the dirt, ignoring any sudden roots, splinters of rocks and moist spots as she guides her way around. She comes to a corner and she pauses. Is she dreaming, hallucinating? There was a light. Nothing natural, it seemed manmade. A fire. It glows with red, orange and yellow. This could be a line to lead her in, but assuming all the Outcasts are back at Berk, she assumes whoever is responsible for the fire, she can take them.

She sneaks up, flattens her back against the dirt wall and listens. She can hear voices, they didn't seem threatening, but it wasn't until she heard Snotlout's annoying voice that her eyes widen and she turns the corner.

"Astrid!" Fishlegs cries with joy.

Huddling around the fire, was Fishlegs, Snotlout, Gobber and Stoick. The twins were left back on Berk, and Hiccup . . .

She banishes the thought the second it enters her thoughts. Gobber gets up and helps her over to the fire.

"Sweetie, you look tired. Why don't you take a seat." He gestures.

"Thank you." she says. Her voice sounded hollow, like it's been forever since she's used it.

"Thank Thor you're alive." Stoick says as he hands her a small basket of water.

It was held in a basket weaved from the roots. No doubt Gobber mad it, him being the natural survivor. She gulps down half of the basket before her voice feels better. Everyone has scars, cuts, gashes and many holes in their clothes. No doubt their battles were as merciless as hers.

"You're not the only one to be perused." Fishlegs says. "Hadrian attacked every one of us, and while we're all here, we barely escaped with our lives."

She only nods as he huddles her knees in her chest. She gazes into the fire, until the question she's been meaning to ask floats to the front of her mind.

"I heard a Deadly Nadder call. That's what led me to that clearing that's been scorched." She tells as she gazes around the fire. "Did any of you hear anything?"

"We thought it was you calling to Stoemfly." Gobber says.

"That's impossible, Stormfly's in the village . . . dying." Her voice catches on the last word, spreading concern around the fire. "She got bitten by the Scauldron, and I don't know how long I've been out, but after Hadrian's dragon dragged me down, I woke up on the shoreline."

"You're lucky to have made it there alive." Gobber says.

"I didn't." she says, and this snatches everyone's attention, especially Stoick's. "Someone pulled me to shore and revived me. But I passed out, and when I woke up, they were gone. No tracks, nothing."

This catches everyone by surprise, and he leans forward, intrigued by her experience. "Did you see who it was?" he asks.

"I couldn't make out any features. It was dark and it was a shadow." She explains, and Stoick's hope is stabbed right in the heart. "How did you all get here?"

"I came down here after Hadrian's Whispering Death 'finished' me. Then I found Gobber and sent him out to find anyone else, and he found Fishlegs and Snotlout." Stoick explains.

"Where were you two?" she directs to Fishlegs and Snotlout.

"We got slammed into the dirt thanks to Hadrian's dragon." Snotlout starts.

"Then Gobber found us buried in rock and rubble." Fishelgs finishes.

"Gobber?"

Gobber looks to her as he pokes at the fire with a stick. "After I fell off the cliff, I remember slamming into the water. That'll leave a mark later, but then as I thrashed, I was near drowning, when something picked me up and carried me, rather harshly to the shore."

"Was it that Boneknapper?" Fishlegs asks.

"Nope, this thing had skin and scales. Clear as day. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming." Gobber explains. "Then I was dropped on the shore and it was gone."

Fishlegs' goes rigid. He exchanges a look with Astrid and the two can guess what the other's thinking.

"Don't be ridiculous." Snotout interrupts. "You're just hoping for the impossible."

"It doesn't hurt to hope." Astrid snaps.

"Try telling that to someone who actually cares." Snotlout counters. "Don't you get it?!"

Suddenly, Snotlout was furious and angry. He spring sup and begins to shout, his voice booming through the hollow tunnels.

"They rule the place now! Hadrian's the new chief, and he practically has the entire army of Outcasts on his side! He won! We lost! IT'S OVER!"

There's an uneasy silence before Astrid decides to speak. Her voice soft and shy, something completely out of her character. "I wish Hiccup was here."

At this, Snotlout's face instantly contorts from anger to sorrow. H clenches his fists and sits back down. Stoick doesn't say anything as he continuously stars into the fire.

"Well, he's not." He mumbles.

"You're not giving up are you?" Gobber asks. "We still have a chance."

"No we don't. Open your eyes Gobber. Hiccup's not here, we're down hiding in a tunnel and Hadrian's up there, ruling over my village."

"What about Spitelout?" Gobber asks, and Snotlout looks up."

"The man isn't fit to run the village, given the personality of his son. No offense."

"Some taken." Snotlout snaps.

"It really is over." Stoick says.

"No it's not."

The voice rings out so suddenly that everyone jumps.

"He's just one man. One criminal." It says, getting closer.

Footsteps could be heard and they were soft, but also accompanied by heavy thuds and the clinking of metal. Everyone turns, eyes widening.

"The men may be loyal, but it's out of fear. They're going to turn on him."

He comes out of the shadows, and everyone's eyes pop, and smiles spread across their faces. His body has changed. There's more muscle, he does have several cuts, earning his place among the rest, and there's something on his forehead that no one could see. Behind him, a pair of ice-green eyes open behind him. Then the head of a Night Fury pops out from behind him.

But it doesn't matter.

"Hiccup."

"Hey guys, miss me?" he says with a cheeky smile. He then tosses everyone clean and fresh clothes. "Now, put these on, we've got a village to save."