Ravenbrook Academy stood shrouded in early morning mist, its gothic spires piercing the gray sky. Dante leaned against a stone pillar near the main courtyard, watching as students shuffled into the building, their chatter blending with the distant toll of the school bell. Graduation was only a month away, and the air buzzed with anticipation. For Dante, however, the milestone felt more like a ticking clock.
His life had become a constant balancing act between the mundane and the supernatural. Every day was a test—not just of his academic abilities, but of his ability to survive. Gregor's hatred had grown more intense, and the dark sigil on his rival's wrist seemed to give him endless strength. To make matters worse, whispers of shadowy figures stalking the school grounds had begun circulating among the students.
The mark on Dante's palm pulsed faintly, a familiar and unwelcome sensation. Trouble was coming.
"Dante!" Isla's voice cut through the haze, bringing him back to the present. She jogged up to him, her red hair catching the weak sunlight.
"You've been avoiding me," she said, crossing her arms.
"I've been busy," he replied, his tone flat.
"Busy dodging Gregor, maybe," she shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Dante sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "What do you want, Isla?"
"To warn you," she said, her voice lowering. "Something's going down tonight. I heard Gregor talking to some of his goons. They're planning something big, and it involves you."
"Of course it does," Dante muttered, his jaw tightening.
"You're going to need help," Isla said firmly.
Dante hesitated. Isla had proven herself more than capable, but dragging her further into his chaotic world felt wrong. Before he could respond, the school bell rang, signaling the start of the day.
"We'll talk later," he said, heading toward the building.
Later That Day
The hours dragged on as Dante moved from one class to the next, his mind preoccupied with Isla's warning. By the time the final bell rang, his nerves were frayed.
He made his way to the library, seeking refuge among the dusty shelves and dim lighting. It had become his sanctuary, a place where he could think clearly.
But today, it was different.
The moment he stepped inside, he felt it—a heavy, oppressive presence that made the air feel colder. The library was empty, save for one figure sitting at a table in the center of the room.
Gregor.
"Dante," Gregor said, his voice smooth and dripping with malice. "I've been waiting for you."
Dante clenched his fists. "What do you want, Gregor?"
"To settle this," Gregor replied, standing and rolling up his sleeves. The dark sigil on his wrist glowed faintly, pulsing in time with Dante's own mark.
"Here? Now?" Dante asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
Gregor smirked. "Why not? No teachers. No interruptions. Just you and me."
Dante's instincts screamed at him to walk away, but he knew there was no escaping this confrontation.
"All right," he said, stepping forward. "Let's end this."
The Fight
Gregor moved first, closing the distance between them with unnatural speed. His fist shot out, but Dante ducked, countering with a swift kick to Gregor's side. The impact barely fazed him.
"You'll have to do better than that," Gregor sneered, his eyes glowing faintly.
He lunged again, his movements a blur. Dante barely dodged the next attack, rolling to the side as a bookshelf splintered under the force of Gregor's punch.
The mark on Dante's palm flared, its crimson energy surging through his body. He struck back, his punches landing with precision, but Gregor seemed to absorb the blows like they were nothing.
"You can't win," Gregor said, his voice filled with twisted glee. "I'm stronger now. Faster. And soon, I'll be the one everyone fears."
Dante gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He couldn't match Gregor's strength, but he could outthink him.
As Gregor charged again, Dante sidestepped, grabbing a thick book from the nearest table and slamming it into Gregor's head. The move caught Gregor off guard, and he stumbled, giving Dante a moment to catch his breath.
But the respite was short-lived. Gregor recovered quickly, his rage boiling over.
"Enough games!" Gregor roared, raising his hand. The sigil on his wrist flared, unleashing a wave of dark energy that tore through the room.
Dante was thrown backward, crashing into a table. Pain shot through his body, but he forced himself to stand.
"You're not the only one with power," Dante said, his voice steady.
He raised his palm, the mark glowing brighter than ever. Crimson light burst forth, meeting Gregor's dark energy head-on. The clash of power shook the room, books and debris flying in all directions.
For a moment, it felt like the entire world held its breath.
Then, with a final surge of energy, Dante's light overpowered Gregor's darkness, sending his rival crashing to the ground.
Aftermath
The library was in ruins, but the fight was over. Gregor lay unconscious, the sigil on his wrist flickering weakly before fading entirely.
Dante stood over him, his breathing ragged.
"You did it," Isla's voice came from behind him. She stepped into the room, her eyes wide as she took in the destruction.
"For now," Dante said, his tone weary.
"We need to get out of here before someone finds us," Isla said, pulling him toward the door.
As they slipped out of the library and into the empty halls, Dante couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Gregor might have been defeated, but the forces behind him were still out there, waiting.
And graduation was still weeks away.