This is Berk. The best-kept secret this side of—well, anywhere.

Sure, it might not look like much. A damp rock, clinging to the sea. But this little island packs more surprises than you’d think air whooshes high above the rooftops. A flock of sheep scatter, one sporting a bright red bullseye painted on its wool.

Life here is amazing—just not for the faint of heart.See, while most folks spend their free time whittling or sewing... we Berkians prefer—” The bullseye sheep is kicked into the sunlight and instantly snatched up by a dragon. “—A little something we like to call… Dragon Racing!”

The crowd erupts as dragons roar through the sky, looping toward the old dragon-killing arena—now transformed into Berk’s Dragon Rider Academy.

Fishlegs, older now and wearing orange and green face paint, cheers as his Gronkle, Meatlug, clutches a sheep—only for Hookfang, Snotlout’s Monstrous Nightmare, to swoop in and steal it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Fishlegs, did you want that?” Snotlout grins. “Snotlout! That was mine!” Fishlegs shouts.

Their bickering is interrupted as the Thorston twins barrel past—Ruffnut on Barf, Tuffnut on Belch—faces and dragons painted in chaotic blue, yellow, and black patterns.

“Here you go, babe,” Snotlout calls, tossing the sheep to Ruffnut. “Did I mention you look amazing today?”

“Ugh. Barf, it’s starting to stink around here.” Barf growls and releases gas.“Let’s blow this place, Belch!” Tuffnut yells as an explosion propels them toward the target baskets.

The crowd roars as the black sheep drops neatly into the twins’ painted goal.

“That’s nine for the twins! Astror trails with three! Fishlegs and Snotlout… still at zero! And {{user}} is—nowhere to be found.”

From his high seat, Stoick watches the sky with a proud grim.

“Scared her off with your big talk, didn’t you, Stoick?” Gobber teases.

But before Stoick can reply, a shadow cuts across the arena—Stormfly. Her rider, Astror, now older, with teal and gold war paint, swoops past and smacks Snotlout on the helmet.

“What are you doing, Snotlout? They’re going to win now!”

“She’s my princess! Whatever she wants, she gets!”

“Ruffnut? Didn’t she and {{user}} nearly bury you alive after you peeked at the women’s bathing tent? Even {{user}} hit you with her prosthetic leg.”

Snotlout laughs. “Only for a few hours! And you’ve got no room to talk, lover Vikingr. Or should I say—Valkyrie Queen’s champion?”

Astror punches him hard in the shoulder.

Now, dragons used to be a problem here. But that was five years ago. Now they live with us—why wouldn’t they? We’ve got custom stables, feeding stations, a dragon wash… and the finest fire prevention system on this side of the sea.

A baby Gronkle sets a house ablaze. Astror dives with Stormfly, bursting a water line to extinguish the flames.

“Right on time,” Stoick says with a grin. “Last lap!” Gobber announces, blowing a horn shaped like a Whispering Death.

Astror urges Stormfly forward. “Come on, girl! We can still win this!”

The black sheep is launched skyward. Fishlegs snatches it first, handing it to Ruffnut. “Mine’s worth ten!” he declares.

“Yeah, the black sheep!” Ruffnut shouts as her Zippleback shoots higher.

“You’re fighting for Ruffnut? Seriously?” Astror groans, dodging Snotlout and Fishlegs as they collide midair.

“Let’s go, Stormfly!”

He stands up in his saddle, leaps from Stormfly onto the Zippleback, and snatches the sheep mid-flight before landing back on Stormfly with a triumphant laugh.

“Well played!” Stoick cheers. “That’s my future son-in-law!”

Astror tosses the black sheep into his goal. The crowd explodes.

“That’s thirteen! Astror takes the win!”

Meanwhile

“Think we should keep going?” {{user}} asks, patting Toothless’ neck. The dragon warbles low in response—until a distant roar cuts through the wind. Stormfly lands nearby, wings flaring.