A heavy silence hung over the massive, dimly lit chamber. Shadows flickered across jagged walls, cast by eerie blue flas that burned in the braziers lining the hall. At the center stood Varzok the Devourer, a towering figure with six muscular arms, his crimson eyes burning with grief and fury. His obsidian-black skin shimred under the cold firelight, his massive fra radiating an oppressive aura that made even the strongest warriors in the room feel like insects.
Before him stood the elite of the Abyssborn Ravagers—so with four arms, others with six like Varzok, and a rare few with only two. The ones with two arms were the most terrifying, their re presence warping the very air around them. They were the strongest of their kind, legends even among the Abyssborn.
Varzok clenched his fists, his six arms trembling with rage. His voice, deep and raw, cut through the silence like a blade.
"One of our own is dead. A true Abyssborn, one with the potential to surpass us all. A child of the universe. My son… Krozak."
The weight of his words settled like a storm, the room vibrating with the barely contained fury of the warriors before him.
A figure stepped forward, his four golden eyes gleaming under his thick brow. Zorrak the Dreadclaw, Krozak's uncle and one of Varzok's most trusted allies. His long, jagged horns curled backward like a crown of death, and his tail, lined with barbed spikes, twitched impatiently.
"Who did this?" Zorrak's voice was low, dangerous.
Varzok's jaw tightened, his fangs grinding together. He looked at Zorrak, then at the gathered warriors, his pride bleeding along with his rage.
"A newcor," he spat. "A re student. He goes by the na Adam Dhark. They say he was strong… too strong. He killed Krozak without struggle."
A stunned silence filled the chamber. Then, laughter—dark, bitter.
From the back of the hall, a two-ard Abyssborn stepped forward, his movents slow, deliberate. Malakar the Hollow, one of the strongest Abyssborn alive. His deep purple skin rippled as he moved, his golden irises glowing like molten tal. He stopped a few steps away from Varzok and crossed his arms, his voice carrying a quiet amusent.
"A student, you say? He killed Krozak?" Malakar's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in his gaze. "Then tell , Varzok… was your son weak, or is this Adam Dhark sothing more?"
The temperature in the chamber dropped as the warriors bristled at Malakar's words.
Varzok's hands tightened into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Watch your tongue, Malakar," he growled, his six arms flexing. "Krozak was strong. You know that."
Malakar chuckled, shaking his head. "Then that ans this Adam is… interesting."
Zorrak snarled, stepping between them. "Enough! Krozak is dead, and this Adam must pay. We are Abyssborn. We do not let such insults go unpunished!"
Varzok exhaled sharply, his fury barely contained. "You're right. We will not stand by while so outsider slaughters our own."
His burning gaze swept across the gathered warriors.
"Find this Adam Dhark. I don't care how. I want his head brought before ."
A chilling grin spread across Malakar's face. "Now that… sounds fun."
The Abyssborn warriors roared in unison, the ground trembling beneath their fury.
Adam Dhark had just beco their enemy.
Origin Academy
Adam sneezed, then looked around him, "is soone cursing at or have ill intentions against ." Adam said as he went back to do what he was doing, sleeping.
Elsewhere
Origin Academy Council eting
The council chamber of Origin Academy was massive, a grand hall with towering pillars and walls lined with ancient inscriptions. A heavy tension filled the air as Daryll, a tall man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes, sat at the head of the long obsidian table, staring at the academy's most powerful figures. His voice was firm, but his expression carried a weight of concern.
"With everything that's happened recently, I think we need to ban killing in the academy," Daryll said, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I understand that competition pushes students to grow stronger, but this isn't just about them anymore. They're safe inside these walls, sure. But the second they step outside? They'll be hunted. Families of those they've killed will be waiting for revenge, and talented students will be wasted before they ever reach their full potential."
A silence settled over the room. So of the council mbers exchanged glances, while others leaned back, listening.
Then, a chuckle.
A woman sat at the far end of the table, arms crossed, her crimson eyes glinting under the dim lights. She had long, jet-black hair and pale skin that almost seed to glow in the darkened chamber—Veyna Nightshade, a high-ranking council mber and a pure-blooded vampire. Her lips curled into a sharp smile.
"Let guess," Veyna said smoothly, tapping her finger against the table. "This is about that new kid you summoned into the academy. What was his na again? Ah, right—Adam Dhark."
Daryll's expression darkened, but he said nothing.
Veyna leaned forward, her voice laced with amusent. "So, you want to change a rule that has existed since the founding of this academy… just because of him? If he's really so special, why are you worried?"
Her smile widened, fangs barely visible. "If he can't handle sothing this small, how is he ever going to reach the top of the universe? That's the entire point of Origin Academy. This place was built for the Children of the Universe, those destined to rule. But there were so few of them that we started admitting others—students with 'high potential,' as you put it. And that rule? It's here to make sure only the strongest survive. If they can't withstand the pressure, they don't deserve to stand among the real monsters."
The room fell silent again.
Daryll exhaled through his nose, his fingers tightening around the table's edge. "You're missing the point, Veyna. I'm not saying we stop training them to be strong. I'm saying there's a difference between pushing them to their limits and throwing them into a slaughterhouse."
Veyna's eyes flashed with amusent. "Then tell , Daryll… is Adam Dhark truly strong, or are you just afraid he won't survive?"
A tense silence followed, the council waiting for Daryll's answer.
Daryll let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming against the obsidian table. His eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto Veyna's amused expression.
"You think I'm worried about him?" he said, his voice low but firm. "No… it's the others I'm worried about. The so-called 'Children of the Universe.' He's targeting them."
A heavy silence filled the chamber. So council mbers shifted uncomfortably, while others narrowed their eyes.
Veyna raised an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for just a second. "Oh?"
Daryll leaned forward, his tone unwavering. "You're acting like he's just another student trying to survive. He's not. He's hunting them."
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