The world outside the Academy was still vibrant, with people chattering and going about their peaceful lives, unaware of the darkness creeping closer. But far from the light of hope, within a palace wrapped in eternal twilight, shadows swirled and twisted against the cold stone walls. The land surrounding this forsaken stronghold was a barren wasteland, where the very soil seemed smothered under a suffocating blanket of darkness.
In a dimly lit hall, a solitary figure rested upon an opulent throne, the very image of regal malevolence. His smile was disarming, charming even, but his eyes—abyssal and black as the void—betrayed the rage and hatred festering just beneath the surface. He appeared to be in his twenties, with hair the color of jade-black that seemed to dissolve into the shadows around him. His gaze was one of destruction, a promise of annihilation to anyone foolish enough to stand against him. Above his head, a dark crown hovered, pulsing with an ominous glow—a symbol of his status as the Prince of Shadows.
"Your Highness," a figure emerged from the darkness, kneeling before the throne, his voice trembling with urgency. "It is true. Zarek, Vespara, and Garoth... they've all perished, killed by some Academy students and a professor."
The Prince's smile grew wider, though it did not reach his eyes. "Find out who these students are," he ordered, his voice smooth, but dripping with venom. "And destroy the entire village by tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Highness," the shadowy figure bowed low before vanishing into the blackness from which he came.
As soon as the messenger was gone, the Prince's fury erupted. A violent wave of dark energy surged from him, tearing apart the stone walls and shattering the windows, sending fragments of rock and glass spiraling into the abyss. The air crackled with his anger, a physical force that threatened to consume everything in its path.
"Vespara, my dear friend," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl. "I warned you that Zarek would be your end, but you refused to listen. Look at what's become of you now."
He leaned forward, his expression shifting from seething anger to cold, calculating resolve. "But I, the Shadow Prince, will not only avenge you. I will annihilate that village in your name."
His thoughts turned to the Academy, a place he loathed, yet begrudgingly respected for its influence. "First, I need a mole within that cursed institution. There are surely many like-minded worms there, hiding in the shadows, their hearts poisoned with ambition and darkness."
With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a swirling orb of shadow from his chest. The ball pulsed and grew, morphing into a small demonic creature, complete with twisted horns and leathery black wings.
"Go," the Prince commanded, his eyes locked onto the creature. "Watch the Hero Academy. Find someone of power, someone whose soul is tainted by darkness and craves power. Return to me with your findings."
The demonic shadow nodded, its eyes gleaming with malice, before darting into the depths of the palace, disappearing into the shadows.
"Now you will see Wrath," the Prince murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.
Leaning back into his throne, the Prince surveyed the room, the dark energy surrounding him palpable. The pieces of his plan were falling into place. With the right puppet in the Academy, chaos and destruction would spread like wildfire. His fallen comrades would be avenged, and his reign would be sealed. The darkness, his greatest ally, was poised to unleash its fury upon the world. Soon, the world would tremble before the Prince of Shadows.