The Extra Wants Control

[Elven Continent]

In the heart of the Elven Continent, within the opulent halls of the Royal Palace, a scene unfolded that would forever alter the fate of the elves. Queen Ilyana, with her flowing silver hair and eyes like sapphires, gripped the head of her fallen elder sister, her face a mask of steely resolve.

"War is upon us," she declared, her voice ringing through the chamber. "We've endured the injustices for too long. This time, there will be no mercy, no misplaced kindness, no turning a blind eye. We will call them out for what they are – invaders on our sacred soil and we will pay past grievances with blood!"

Her gaze swept across the gathered court officials, the fear and confusion in their eyes a stark contrast to her own unwavering determination. A tremor of unease ran through the room, the weight of her next action hanging heavy in the air.

A former minister, his face pale with horror, dared to stammer a protest. "You can't just..."

Before the trembling Minister could stammer out a protest, Ilyana raised her hand. A flicker of silver light erupted, and the official fell silent, a crimson stain blooming on his chest.

The remaining elves gasped, their eyes wide with terror. Ilyana's message couldn't be clearer: hers was a rule of absolute authority, and any dissent would be met with swift and merciless justice.

"Make no mistake," she continued, her voice echoing in the stunned silence. "I am not my sister. I won't waste time with the charade of democracy. I will be your queen, your iron fist. I will be a tyrant, yes, but a necessary one. Those who choose to bow before the coming storm will live to see a new dawn.

As for those who resist…"

She gestured towards the slain official, his lifeless form a stark reminder of her unwavering resolve.

A collective cry of "All hail the Queen!" erupted from the remaining elves, their voices trembling but their message clear. Ilyana nodded curtly, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Good," she said, dismissing the court with a wave of her hand. "Now go, spread the word. Prepare yourselves for what is to come. We have waited for peace for too long, but now, we choose war!"

The elves scurried out, their minds reeling from the sudden power shift. As the last courtier disappeared, Ilyana turned to a young woman with hair like twilight and eyes that mirrored her own icy blue.

"It's just as you predicted, Lara," Ilyana sighed, a hint of weariness creeping into her voice. "War is inevitable, and my sister's… kindness would have spelled our doom. We cannot afford weakness in these coming times."

Lara, the princess, a friend, niece and confidante, offered a grim nod. "Indeed. Mother's naivete would've nearly cost us everything. We won't allow our race to become victims again."

A fierce glint ignited in Ilyana's eyes. "We won't. I have been preparing in secret. My army, though small, is unrivaled. The weakest soldier amongst them boasts the power of a seven-star warrior."

A smile, predatory and ambitious, spread across Ilyana's face. "The plan is already in motion, Lyra. Soon, the will of the elves will be mine. Even the Elven Goddess will have to acknowledge my strength, and when the time comes, she will grant me…"

Her voice trailed off, replaced by a knowing glint in her eyes. The fate of the elves hung in the balance as Queen Ilyana, driven by ambition and a thirst for power, set her path for ultimate control.

****************

[Beastmen Continent]

A lionkin, all bulging muscles and golden mane, pounded the table with a meaty fist. "The war! It's time for the war of races! We attack now!" He stood tall, a primal warrior clad only in pants, his bare chest adorned with battle scars and a lion's roar tattooed across his back.

A serpentine figure, his eyes like polished obsidian beneath a monocle, scoffed. "My dear Leonidas," he drawled, his voice smooth as oil, "such a blunt approach. We attack one race, the others will inevitably join forces to swat us down later." This was Slytherio, clad in a pristine tuxedo despite his reptilian heritage.

Across the table, a foxkin named Kitsune swished her seven tails impatiently. "Slyth's right, Leo. You let rage cloud your judgment. The hatred between races is strong, yes, but not strong enough for them to ignore a clear threat." Her voice was laced with amusement, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.

Rage bristled. "You dare question me, kitsune? I am the strongest!"

Kitsune's smile widened, an edge of steel glinting through. "Strength isn't everything, kitty cat. I nominate myself. Cunning and beauty are potent weapons too.Perhaps I should demonstrate?"

"Enough!" Slyth interjected, earning a glare from both sides. "We need unity within our race before leading a war. No more scattered tribes, it's time for a single banner!"

"And who, pray tell, should lead under this glorious banner?" Kitsune purred.

Leo puffed out his chest. "Me, of course! Who else?"

Kitsune's amusement bubbled over into a mocking laugh. "Oh, how very democratic."

Rage growled, taking a threatening step forward. "Want to make something of it, fox?"

Suddenly, the air crackled with power. A shimmering portal ripped open, depositing a magnificent tigerkin warrior in their midst. Her hair, as white as snow, cascaded down her back, contrasting with the stripes on her arms and tail. Her blue eyes held a chilling intensity.

Kitsune's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a flicker of apprehension. "Eleven stars," she murmured, a hint of fear lacing her voice. The others could only gawk in awe at this pinnacle of power.

"Any objections to unification under me?" The tigerkin, her voice a rumbling command, surveyed the room. Silence met her question.

A smirk played on her lips. "Good. Now, I require reports on the state of your armies. And no," she cut off Slyth's protest, "no inflated figures. You all know what I can do. In fact, why wait?" With a snap of her fingers, four more tigerkin materialized beside her, each radiating a power almost palpable.

Slyth whimpered, his bravado melting away. "Four…nine stars?" he choked out, the title reserved for the most powerful warriors.

The tigerkin queen, ignoring his terror, addressed her lieutenants. "Gather all available information on their forces. Leave nothing out."

"Yes, Matriarch," the four saluted before vanishing in a flurry of white fur.

Turning back to the others, she issued her final order. "Return to your territories and await my command. Dismissed." Then, with another shimmer, she disappeared, leaving the three Beastmen leaders speechless in her wake.