We pan up, the camera gliding over a vast, moonlit ocean. The water shimmers under the pale light, stretching endlessly until—emerging from the mist—an island takes shape, dark and jagged against the horizon. Wisps of fog curl around its edges, reluctant to let go of their hold.
Hiccup (V.O.): This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.
As we push through the lingering fog, two towering Viking statues loom into view, their fierce stone faces worn by time. Fires rage within their open mouths, sending embers swirling into the night.
Hiccup (V.O.): It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.
We soar past the statues, plunging through the mist as a wave crashes below, sending a spray of seawater into the air. The camera sweeps forward, revealing the island's sturdy structures—longhouses built against the wind, a sprawling sheep farm, and torches flickering along rugged paths carved into the mountainside.
Hiccup (V.O.): My village. In a word—sturdy. Seven generations strong, yet every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.
Our gaze settles on two sheep grazing peacefully in a meadow.
Hiccup (V.O.): The only problems are the pests.
Without warning, a dragon swoops down, snatching one of the sheep with its talons. The remaining sheep barely reacts, chewing lazily as if this is just another Tuesday.
Hiccup (V.O.): You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…
WHOOSH! A fireball blasts the screen, cutting us to—
A door slamming shut, shaking on its hinges. A shadow cowers behind it.
Hiccup (V.O.): —dragons.
Outside, the village is in chaos. Flames lick at rooftops. Vikings bellow battle cries as dragons streak overhead, launching fire and fury.
Hiccup (V.O.): Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have… stubbornness issues.
CRACK! A wooden cart explodes, sending debris flying. Amidst the madness, a scrawny teenager—Hiccup—sprints into the fray, ducking as a teal-scaled Gronckle blasts fire over his head. He stumbles, nearly losing his footing—
A massive Viking spins around, roaring in his face.
Ack: ARGGGHHHHH! (suddenly cheerful) Mornin'!
Hiccup (V.O.): My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know. But it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will scare off gnomes and trolls. As if our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.
Hiccup zigzags through the village, narrowly dodging warriors and flying debris.
Hoark: What are you doing here?!
Viking: Get inside!
Viking: What are you doin' out?!
Phlegma: Get back inside!
Suddenly—a massive hand grabs Hiccup by the collar, yanking him back just as a strafing dragon nearly takes his head off.
Stoick: Hiccup?! What is he doing out aga—?! What are you doing out?! Get inside!
Hiccup barely manages to stay on his feet as he's set down.
Hiccup (V.O.): That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders.
WHOOSH! A dragon dives—only for Stoick to hurl a wooden cart into the sky, striking the beast mid-flight and sending it tumbling.
Hiccup (V.O.): Do I believe it? Yes. Yes, I do.
Stoick (gruffly): What have we got?
Starkard: Gronckles, Nadders, Zipplebacks. Oh, and Hoark saw a Monstrous Nightmare.
Stoick: (grimly) Any Night Furies? Or the Skrill?
Starkard: None so far.
Burning embers land on Stoick's shoulder. He casually brushes it off.
Stoick: Good.
Viking: Hoist the torches!
Two enormous torches are raised and lit. The dragons swarm around them.
Hiccup runs into a blacksmith shop and puts on an apron
Gobber: Ah! Nice of you to join the party! I thought you'd been carried off!
Hiccup: What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all... (gestures to his skinny body) ...this.
Gobber: Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?
Hiccup (v.o.): The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.
scene cuts to Stoick on the watch-tower
Stoick: We move to the lower defenses. We'll counter-attack with the catapults. (yells)And can someone wake up up Jinx!
A dragon swoops down and sets another house on fire.
Hiccup (v.o.): See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.
Viking: FIRE!
Astrid: Alright, let's go!
The Viking teens are seen carrying buckets of water as Hiccup in the voiceover introduces them one by one
Hiccup (v.o.): Oh, and that's Fishlegs, Snotlout, the Twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and... (dreamily) Astrid. Oh, their job is so much cooler. (Slow motion shot of the teens walking away from an explosion)
Then a monstrous nightmare tried to fly away with a little girl but then a purple ice spear pierce and a blur passed through their vision catching the girl and once they hit the ground everyone could see that a feminine looking boy with pure black hair and purple eyes holding the little girl and then a man and woman rushes at the boy and grab the little girl from him thanking him before running away.
Hiccup(v.o): and finally we have Jeanyx or Jinx for short and he's gobber's son and has always been special since when he was born the worst blizzard in the last 200 years hit berk and when he was four gobber discovered he had powers over the cold and thanks to his contribution like taking away the cold and clearing ice away from our shores and him being cobbers son had become my fathers most closest adviser then gobber.
Jinx then looks to his right and saw hiccup and was surprised but waved at him with a smile on his face.
Hiccup (v.o):....also he's my best and oldest friend.
Hiccup leaned out of the smithy's window, craning his neck to get a better look at the battle raging outside. Fires raged, dragons wheeled through the sky, and Vikings bellowed as they clashed with the winged invaders. He was so focused on the action that he didn't hear Gobber behind him until two massive hands grabbed him by the collar and yanked him backward into the shop.
Hiccup landed with a thud, arms flailing. "Oh, come on," he groaned, scrambling back to his feet. "Let me out, please? I need to make my mark!"
Gobber didn't even look up from where he was hammering a blade. "Oh, you've made plenty of marks, Hiccup. All in the wrong places."
Hiccup pressed his hands together in mock prayer. "Just two minutes! I'll kill a dragon, my life will get infinitely better, and I might even get a date!"
Gobber snorted. "You can't lift a hammer. You can't swing an axe. You can't even throw one of these!" He snatched a bola from a nearby table and barely had time to hold it up before a passing Viking grabbed it, twirled it expertly, and snagged a dragon out of the sky.
Hiccup crossed his arms. "Okay, fine. But this—" he patted a wooden contraption beside him, grinning proudly, "—this will throw it for me."
He pressed a lever, and the machine snapped open, launching a bola at random. Instead of hitting a dragon, it whacked an unsuspecting Viking in the back of the head.
The Viking toppled over with a grunt. "ARGH!"
Gobber threw his hands up. "See? Now this right here is what I'm talkin' about!"
Hiccup winced. "Mild calibration issue—"
"Don't you— No! Hiccup, listen. If you ever want to get out there and fight dragons, you need to stop all…" Gobber waved a hand in a vague circle around him. "This."
Hiccup gestured to himself. "But you just pointed to all of me!"
"Yes! Exactly! Stop being all of you!"
Hiccup gasped, clutching his chest. "Ohhh…"
"Ohhh, yes," Gobber confirmed.
"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game," Hiccup said dramatically. "Keeping this much raw Viking-ness contained? There will be consequences."
Gobber rolled his eyes. "I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now."
Hiccup sighed, grabbing a blade and dragging it across a whetstone. One day, he thought, I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon is everything around here.
Outside, the battle raged on.
Dragons wheeled over the village, raining fire onto rooftops. A Nadder tore into a sheep pen, scattering woolly creatures as it snapped up its prey. A Gronckle flapped lazily toward a fish stall, snagging entire racks of food with its stubby claws. A Zippleback, its two heads hissing in unison, coiled its serpentine body around a house, preparing to unleash an explosion—
SHING!
Before it could attack, a purple ice spear shot through the air, piercing both heads clean through. The dragon slumped, lifeless, before tumbling off the roof.
Hiccup watched from the window, eyes widening. "And that's Jinx," he muttered under his breath.
Atop a watchtower, Stoick surveyed the battlefield.
"Concentrate fire on the lower bank!" he commanded.
"Fire!"
A row of catapults launched flaming boulders into the air, striking at the dragons in bursts of fire and debris.
"A Nadder head is sure to get me noticed," Hiccup mused, watching from afar. "Gronckles are tough—taking one of those down would definitely get me a girlfriend. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status."
He turned his gaze toward the largest of the dragons.
"And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire."
A Monstrous Nightmare growled as it clambered up the side of a catapult, flames igniting along its scales.
Stoick grabbed a spear and leaped forward, slamming the butt of it into the dragon's snout. The Nightmare recoiled, hissing, before Stoick delivered another crushing blow.
The dragon snarled, wings flaring—then suddenly retreated into the night.
Hiccup let out a breath. "But the ultimate prize… is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the—"
A high-pitched whistle cut through the air.
The battlefield fell silent. Every Viking, every dragon, froze.
Then—
BOOM!
An explosion tore apart one of the catapults in a blinding flash of fire and splintered wood.
"JUMP!" Stoick bellowed, shoving nearby warriors out of the blast radius.
"This thing never steals food, never shows itself… and never misses," Hiccup said. "No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm going to be the first."
But before he could say anything more—
CRACK!
A flash of dark purple lightning streaked through the sky. Three houses were obliterated in a single strike, reduced to nothing but smoldering ruins.
Vikings screamed.
A panicked voice rang out. "SKRILL!"
Hiccup stiffened.
"And that… that's the only dragon more terrifying than a Night Fury," he thought. "The Skrill."
It wasn't the first time a Skrill had come near Berk. A hundred years ago, the Berserkers had passed down stories of the Titan Wing Skrill, a beast drawn to metal, its lightning attacks nearly unstoppable. Vikings had learned that metal could attract the creature—sometimes even control it—but this Skrill was different.
It didn't screech before it struck. It didn't warn its prey.
It was simply there, and then the sky was on fire.
And that made it the most feared dragon of all.
Gobber strapped an axe to his arm, tightening the harness with a practiced yank. "Man the fort, Hiccup! They need me out there!"
He turned toward the door, but at the last second, he glanced back with a knowing glare.
"Stay. Put. There," he said, jabbing a finger at Hiccup. "You know what I mean."
Hiccup nodded innocently. "Oh yeah. Totally."
Gobber narrowed his eyes but didn't press further. With that, he charged into battle, bellowing as he disappeared into the chaos.
The moment he was gone, Hiccup bolted for the exit, dragging his bolas launcher along with him.
"Hiccup, where are you going?!" a Viking called.
"Come back here!" another shouted.
"Yeah, I know! Be right back!" Hiccup yelled over his shoulder.
Wheeling his automated catapult onto a nearby hill, he scrambled to set it up. Below, Stoick wrestled a pack of Nadders, muscles straining as he tangled them in a massive net. One of the dragons hissed and blasted a gout of fire at him.
"Mind yourselves!" Stoick barked, tightening the ropes. "The devils still have some juice in them!"
Hiccup ignored the chaos below, his fingers working rapidly to adjust his machine. His heart pounded. His breath came fast.
"Come on, gimme something to shoot at," he muttered, scanning the sky. "Gimme something to shoot at—"
Then he saw it.
A shadow, a blot of pure darkness, moved against the starlit sky. Silent. Fast.
"There you are."
Hiccup fired.
A BANG split the air as the explosion illuminated the figure for a split second—a sleek, black shape with wide wings and glowing eyes.
A loud, piercing cry echoed through the night.
The dragon plummeted, spiraling toward the forest below. But before it disappeared into the trees, it twisted in the air, and in a final act of defiance—
BOOM!
A plasma blast erupted mid-air, sending a shockwave through the battlefield.
Hiccup shielded his eyes. When the smoke cleared, his mouth fell open.
"Oh… I hit it," he whispered. Then louder, his voice bursting with excitement, "YES! I HIT IT! Did anybody see that?!"
His celebration was cut violently short.
THUD.
The ground shook as a Monstrous Nightmare landed behind him, its fiery gaze locked on his tiny form.
Hiccup gulped. "Except for you."
With a crunch, the dragon crushed his bola launcher beneath one massive claw.
A shrill cry split the air, a sound so sharp it sent shivers down Stoick's spine. He turned, eyes narrowing as he spotted the Nightmare stalking Hiccup across the hilltop.
"DO NOT let them escape!" he bellowed, even as he rushed to help.
"Right!" Spitelout called back, leading a squad of Vikings.
Hiccup ran, skidding behind a wooden torch pole. Flames licked around the corner, the dragon's fire curling dangerously close.
He risked a glance—and saw the Nightmare's massive jaws lunging toward him.
Before it could snap him up, a fist the size of a boulder slammed into its snout.
The dragon staggered back, shaking its head. Stoick planted his feet, towering between Hiccup and the beast.
The Nightmare snarled, inhaling to spew another jet of flame—
But nothing came.
It coughed, spitting out only a few weak drops of burning liquid.
Stoick smirked. "You're all out."
With one brutal strike, he sent the dragon tumbling. The Nightmare screeched, scrambling to retreat—
SHINK!
A purple ice spiral erupted from the ground, spearing the dragon clean through.
Its cry turned to a gurgle, and then, with a final twitch, the beast went still.
Hiccup, panting, stared at the unnatural ice formation in horror.
Because he knew who had done it.
Hiccup's voice echoed in his mind, the weight of what had just happened sinking in like a stone in water. "Oh, and there's one more thing you need to know..."
But before he could even process his own words, the torch pole collapsed, sending the blazing torch careening down the hill, lighting a trail of destruction behind it. The fire carved through the village, eating away at huts and barrels of supplies. Hiccup barely managed to watch as it tore its way through the wreckage.
"Sorry, Dad," he muttered under his breath, but there was no time for regret.
The torch rolled straight toward the Nadders Stoick had so carefully trapped earlier. The flames reached them, igniting their wings and causing them to break free from the net. With an unholy screech, the dragons scattered. They wreaked havoc in their wake, grabbing whatever they could carry—livestock, food stores—hauling it off into the night like thieves in the dark. The raid was over. The damage was done.
The village fell silent. Every single pair of eyes turned toward Hiccup. It felt like the entire island was staring at him, a thousand disappointed glares, burning hotter than any fire.
"Okay, but I hit a Night Fury," Hiccup said sheepishly, but the words felt hollow.
Without saying a word, Stoick's hand clamped around the back of Hiccup's shirt like a vice, dragging him away from the wreckage and toward his house.
"You always do this," Stoick growled, his grip tight as he pulled Hiccup through the village. "Every time you step outside, disaster follows."
Hiccup tried to break free, his heart still racing from the adrenaline. "But this time it was different! You don't understand, Dad! I actually hit it! The Night Fury! You've gotta believe me. It went down by Raven Point. We need to go look for it—there's a chance we could—"
"STOP!" Stoick roared, his voice a guttural bellow that cut through the air like thunder. He slammed Hiccup into the doorframe of their house. "Just... stop. Every time you go out there, it's a mess. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter's coming, and the whole village depends on me to keep them fed."
Hiccup's eyes flitted over the group of Vikings gathering nearby, rubbing their stomachs with loud, exaggerated motions as if to prove a point. He bit back a smile, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't ya think?"
A Viking near the back let out a guttural grunt, rubbing his belly, and shot Hiccup a dirty look.
Stoick's gaze narrowed, the weight of his words sinking deeper. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" His voice softened, but the anger was still there, barely contained. "Why can't you just follow simple orders?"
Hiccup sighed, exasperated. "I can't stop myself, Dad. Every time I see a dragon, I just have to... kill it. You know? It's who I am."
Stoick's face darkened. "You are many things, Hiccup... but a dragon killer is not one of them. Now get back inside. I'll take care of this mess. Gobber, make sure he gets there.*"
Gobber shot Hiccup an apologetic look but didn't argue, taking a firm hold of Hiccup's arm. Stoick turned to face the wreckage and the growing chaos in the village.
From behind them, Tuffnut's voice rang out, dripping with mockery. "Quite the performance, Hiccup. Really nailed it this time."
Snotlout laughed, his voice cruel. "I've never seen anyone mess up this badly before. Great job, Hiccup. That actually helped!"
Hiccup opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say a word, purple ice spikes shot from the ground, aiming straight for Tuffnut and Snotlout. They froze in place, hands raised in terror as the deadly spikes came to an agonizingly close halt, stopping just an inch from their necks.
The two of them slowly backed away, their faces pale as death. Neither of them said a word as the air around them hummed with a dangerous chill.
Hiccup blinked, his pulse racing, his breath catching in his chest.
"Told you... I hit one," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with exhaustion.
His gaze shifted to the shadowy figure in the distance—the one person who had always stood by him, even in moments like this. Hiccup knew the threat was clear, but he had to wonder: Would anyone ever see him for more than the disaster he seemed to cause?