The sun scorched high above the dunes as waves clashed against walls of sand. Kairo stood at the front of his army, his trident raised, commanding massive torrents that surged toward the Sand Tribe's borders.
But unlike the other lands he had swept through, this time, the waters did not claim the earth so easily.
A golden shield of swirling sand rose, blocking his waves. The ground beneath trembled, but the dunes held strong — molded and fortified by the desert's will.
Kairo narrowed his eyes. "So they're more prepared than expected..."
From the barricade of sand, a young warrior leapt forward — cloak billowing, eyes burning with desert resolve.
Behind him, other skilled Sand Tribe members joined, hands weaving intricate motions as they reinforced the shield with layer after layer of hardened sand.
"You won't take this land so easily!" the young warrior shouted, standing tall as the tide surged. "We may not be as powerful, but we're not giving up!"
Kairo's waves crashed against the wall, spraying salty mist into the air. His soldiers advanced, manipulating aquatic waves to wear down the defenses, but the sand warriors pushed back, using spinning whirlwinds and hardened stone-sand bursts to counter.
Still, the pressure mounted.
Even with their skills, the sand warriors began to feel the force behind Kairo's attacks. The relentless water was seeping through small cracks. Their arms trembled, legs rooted in hot dunes as they fought to hold the line.
"They're strong..." one of them murmured. "This isn't like the Aqua Tribe from the stories... This is something else."
"But we hold," the young leader said, gritting his teeth. "We hold until Lord Dune arrives."
Some of the Sand Tribe members had already scattered, running as fast as the wind through canyons and valleys to reach Lord Dune — the desert guardian, the protector of the golden realm.
The shield groaned under pressure, but it held, barely.
Kairo watched with cool detachment, water spiraling at his fingertips. "Futile," he muttered. "But let's see how long your stubbornness can stand against the tide."
With a wave of his hand, a massive wave began to rise behind him — tall as a dune, shimmering with power — prepared to crash against the defiant heart of the desert.
The roar of water echoed like a monstrous drumbeat across the shifting sands. Kairo stood at the center of the chaos, his trident raised high, eyes glowing with blue fury. The young sand warriors had fought with every grain of strength they possessed, but the tide had grown too strong.
With one final surge, Kairo and his Aqua Soldiers broke through the last of the sand shields.
A colossal wave, conjured by Kairo himself, crashed over the defenders, scattering them like grains in a storm. Sand flew, bodies were flung, and cries were swallowed beneath the flood.
"Push forward," Kairo commanded coldly. "Drown every inch."
His army obeyed, moving like a tidal force— sweeping through homes, fields, and sacred sites of the Sand Tribe. Every fountain, every garden, every market square— swallowed. Water twisted through the dunes, transforming the once proud desert into a swamp of ruin.
It was exhausting— even for Aqua elites. The desert fought back with heat and resistance. But Kairo's soldiers didn't stop. They pressed forward with brutal discipline, turning the land to mud beneath their feet.
Villagers screamed, fleeing on camelback or sprinting through secret tunnels. Some tried to carry elders, others formed chains to help children escape, but Kairo's tide surged too fast. The desert people were being swept up in a war they hadn't even wanted.
Kairo marched at the front, soaked robes clinging to him, a figure of terrifying power. He didn't yell. He didn't curse. He simply moved forward— like the ocean itself. Quiet. Unstoppable. Inevitable.
Behind him, a sand carving of their history cracked and crumbled beneath his feet.
And still, the people ran, praying in whispers for one name:
"Lord Dune..."
A sudden boom cracked through the skies above the flood. The winds shifted. The very sand began to hum.
From the horizon, riding a rising whirlwind of golden grains, Lord Dune emerged.
Clad in desert-forged armor that shimmered like sunlit bronze, his long sand-colored cloak billowed behind him like a stormfront. His presence alone bent the wind, and every soldier of the Sand Tribe who had not fled found the strength to rise once more.
At his side marched elite Sand Soldiers, their feet leaving no trace as they surfed across dunes and collapsed buildings with deadly precision.
Kairo's wave came crashing forth—
—but it met an immense wall of fortified sand, conjured from the very bones of the desert.
"That's far enough, Prince of the Tides," Dune's voice rumbled like thunder beneath the earth. "You've flooded sacred grounds... desecrated a tribe that wanted no war."
Kairo narrowed his eyes. "Step aside, old relic. Your sand is soft, your people weaker. I gave them a chance to join me in balance. They refused. This is their consequence."
Dune lifted a single arm. The ground beneath Kairo's front lines shifted, pulling aqua soldiers into sudden whirlpools of dry sand, burying them waist-deep.
"I protect those who protect the land," Dune said. "You are not balance. You are conquest dressed in water's skin."
The desert behind Dune responded to his fury—massive sandstorm pillars formed around him, each shaped like coiling serpents of the dunes, eyes glowing with ancient energy.
His soldiers spread out, raising sand towers, creating safe zones for fleeing villagers and reinforcing their defensive lines.
Kairo chuckled once, flicking water from his fingertips. "Then let the sand drown trying."
"So be it." Dune's eyes burned. "You will now face the wrath of the desert."
And with that, the battlefield erupted—waves crashing against rising dunes, storms clashing against floods.