Elena stood in the middle of Professor Flint's imposing, gloom-filled laboratory, a faint knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach.

The lab was exactly as the other students described: chaotic, smelling of burnt ether, and utterly silent.

"Professor Flint?" she called out, her voice clear and strong despite the oppressive atmosphere.

"I apologize if I'm early, but you requested I come for my query regarding the Principles of Aura manipulation."

There was no answer. The moonlight streamed weakly through the arched window, highlighting swirling dust motes, but the large obsidian table was deserted.

Elena frowned. The professor had called her himself. She didn't tarry and rushed here immediately, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps he stepped out for a moment" she thought.

She shrugged off her satchel and pulled up one of the heavy, uncomfortable wooden chairs near the table, deciding to wait patiently.

It was then her gaze drifted toward the rear of the room.

There, just as she sat down, the unmarked wooden door, which should have been perfectly flush with the wall, shifted.

A sliver of space appeared, and from the crack leaked a relentless, throbbing crimson light.

Elena's academic interest immediately morphed into unease.

That color, that aura signature… it was wrong. Too heavy, too saturated, too hungry.

She rose silently. She approached the door and pushed it open wider.

The air that rushed out of the small room was cold and thick, smelling of copper and burnt hair.

Elena gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.

The sight was horrific. The floor was dominated by the immense, star-shaped runic pattern drawn in viscous, dried scarlet, unmistakably the pigment of blood.

Black candles flickered malevolently at each point, bathing the room in the profane crimson glow.

But it was not just the dark ritual that stopped her breath. Sprawled in the corner, amidst a sickening pool of dark fluid, was the lifeless body of a young girl.

Her insides were brutally exposed, the remnants of what looked like a tattered Veridian Academy uniform clinging to her shattered frame.

A few feet away lay a twisted, broken piece of brass, the remnant of a spectacle frame.

Eija, the chilling realization flashed through Elena's mind. The third-year student, known for her glasses and her brilliant, eccentric theories.

Terror seized Elena, sharp and immediate. She needed to run, to scream, to alert the Academy.

She spun around to flee, but a dull thud resonated behind her.

The door had slammed shut.

She whipped back to face the entrance. There stood Professor Flint. But this was no longer the tired, scarred scholar.

Flint was utterly transformed. His academic robes were gone, revealing a torso of sculpted muscle that was now a furious, unnatural crimson hue.

The skin was covered in jagged, intricate black patterns that looked less like runes and more like living scarification, pulsing with the same foul energy as the chamber.

His eyes glowed bright red, the pupils now unmistakable vertical slits. A small, sharp black horn pierced the skin just above his brow, completing his demonic appearance.

He looked at Elena, his face twisted into a horrifying, triumphant smirk.

"I hope the sight isn't too disturbing. I forgot to clean up before calling for you." He rasped, his voice deep and layered with a demonic echo.

He tipped his head, the nascent horn catching the candlelight.

"Don't hate me for this, Elena. I'm running out of time. Lord Rahukin wishes for you immediately, and he's not someone with much patience." He said with an evil smirk plastered to his face, and without waiting for her to speak up, he lunged.

He was impossibly fast. But Elena was the top entrant for a reason. Her reflexes, honed by years of disciplined training, were immediate.

Before the professor-turned-demon could grab her, her hand flashed to her back.

With a smooth, decisive motion, she pulled her sword out from the dimensional ring.

The blade, instantly pulsed with a vibrant, defensive moonlight aura.

Flint's clawed hand ripped through the air where her head had been a heartbeat before.

"The top entrant for a reason!" He roared, amused. "But your little glow stick can't pierce me!"

"You traitor! Monster! You evil bastard. You've sold your soul to the darkness" Elena shouted, dodging a wild swipe and countering with a swift thrust aimed at his exposed crimson chest.

The blade deflected with a metallic clang, leaving only a shallow, smoking scorch mark.

"Stop with your struggle, Elena. It's no use. Count yourself lucky that my lord wants you alive. Or else, you wouldn't have been able to even pull that sword of yours out."

They battled across the small, blood-soaked chamber.

"Who is behind you? Is it the cinder cult? The dark mages? Who did you betray the unified race for?" Elena screamed at him, biding for time, trying to come up with ways to get herself out of this situation.

"Hahaha! Acting smart here will not get me to speak up. You'll get to know soon anyway, so don't worry. Be a good girl and cease your struggle." Flint immediately leaped, his claw rushing towards Elena.

She pulled her sword up, deflecting the sharp claw away as sparks flew from the collision. Flint didn't pause, his relentless attacks continued.

Elena was performing a dance of agile precision, deflecting blows and searching desperately for a weak spot in the crimson skin.

"I can't win here. I need space!"

With a desperate cry, Elena channeled every ounce of her prodigious aura.

Her blade surged, transforming from a simple blue glow to a brilliant, concentrated moonlight bluish Aura Blade.

"Moon slash!"

She didn't aim for Flint. She pivoted and struck the stone wall of the chamber, where the masonry looked slightly older.

The focused blast of energy hit the stone like a siege weapon.

The wall exploded outward in a cloud of dust and debris, punching a massive, jagged hole into the night air.

The chamber was located high up in the Academy's spire.

"You won't escape!" Flint howled, momentarily blinded by the dust.

Without hesitation, Elena hurtled through the fractured opening. Flint enraged, was right on her heels.

They plummeted together, escaping the confines of the corrupted chamber and bursting into the open night air high above the sprawling Academy grounds, the ground rushing up to meet them.

*****

Professor Thorgar's office was vast and circular, dominated by shelves of scrolls that curved up to a high, vaulted ceiling capped by a flickering magical lens. The light, channeled through this lens, focused onto a large obsidian desk.

The trio settled, Kael and Roric facing the Professor. Kael wasted no time, laying out the facts: the missing girls, the bookstore, the Revelation Spell, the magical constraint, and the creature's violent, demon-like transformation, ending with Roric's precise trace.

"The magic was too refined for a common street hedge-mage," Kael concluded. "It required deep knowledge of binding and transfiguration. Knowledge only accessible here."

Roric, still unnerved, added softly, "The residual signature was unmistakable, Professor. A permanent, high-level ward tied to an Academy signature. It pointed directly up, toward the main spire, Sir."

Thorgar listened, stroking his iron-grey beard thoughtfully. "I appreciate the gravity of your report, Enforcer Kael, and the skill of your young colleague. A few young students from our academy have also gone missing. The academy is investigating this matter with utmost urgency too. But I must voice my serious reservations."

He leaned back, the obsidian desk reflecting the cool, focused light. "To perform such dark work, binding a human and using a thrall, requires an elder's power. A Professor, or perhaps a high-ranking Researcher. Such a presence, dripping in illegal magic, could not operate under the very roof of the Academy without Headmaster Hamdal detecting it. His vigilance is absolute."

Kael pushed forward. "The Headmaster is away. That is precisely why the activity might be escalating. We need eyes inside, Professor. Give us clearance. Let Roric and me investigate the flow of magic and the personnel. We will be discreet."

Thorgar shook his head firmly. "I cannot. The authority to grant an outside investigation into the internal workings of the Academy, particularly one so delicate, rests solely with the Headmaster. While he is absent, I am restricted to administrative oversight. Any immediate action would be seen as a power grab and invalidate any evidence you might find."

"Also, you just said that the master behind all this is a mage who has complex understanding of the spells. But you see, your trace has led you to the the warrior section of the academy, all those present here are masters of aura, not mana. So, i find your claim a bit suspicious right there."

Kael was already leaning forward, a sharp retort forming on his lips, about to press the matter politically, to argue that the lives of children outweighed bureaucratic consent.

But the argument died on his tongue.

A sound, not of the quiet streets or the bustling halls, but of raw, violent force, tore through the thick walls.

It was a deafening, booming THOOM, like a siege engine slamming against the Academy's highest tower, instantly followed by the screeching sound of shattering glass and the sickening thump of something impossibly heavy hitting the ground outside.

All the crystal sconces in the office flickered wildly, the magical light momentarily dying.

The booming sound had instantly shifted all three men's attention away from their tense political game.

Thorgar sprang from his chair, his scholarly calm finally shattered. "What in the Hells was that?"

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