The sleek, black luxury car rolled to a halt in front of the grand mansion, its tires crunching against the gravel driveway. The young man stepped out, tall and poised, his lean frame draped in a tailored black suit. A cap cast a shadow over his face, concealing his features. He moved with calculated precision, pulling a small duffel bag from the trunk before striding toward the mansion's wrought-iron gates.
The watchman stationed at the gate observed him warily. "What business do you have here?" he asked, his voice steady but cautious.
"I need to see the old man," the young man replied, his tone firm and unwavering.
The watchman frowned. "Do you have an appointment?"
The young man's lips curled into a slight smirk. "Just tell him I'm here."
With visible reluctance, the watchman picked up the intercom. After a moment of silence, a response crackled through, and he nodded, stepping aside to let the young man enter.
Inside, the mansion was a testament to opulence, its grandeur both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, their light reflecting off marble floors, while antique furniture and gilded frames filled the space.
In the study, Armstone sat in a high-backed leather chair, surrounded by shelves of ancient tomes and relics. His silver hair shimmered in the dim light, and his piercing eyes bore the weight of untold secrets. When the watchman informed him of the visitor, Armstone's lips curled into a knowing smile.
"The world will continue to bow to us," he murmured, mostly to himself. "A new phase is about to begin."
When the young man was ushered in, Armstone leaned back in his chair, observing him with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"To what do I owe this visit?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery. "The last time you were here, you swore never to return."
The young man's jaw tightened. "I'm here because I need a favor."
"A favor? From me?" Armstone chuckled, the sound cold and hollow. "How rich."
"I'm not here to exchange words with you old man," the young man snapped. "I've joined a gang at my university. I want to take over. I know I was born to rule, and I know you have connections… with the dark realm."
At this, Armstone's expression shifted. Pride flickered in his eyes, though he masked it quickly. "You're becoming more like me than you realize," he said. "But nothing in this world—or the next—comes without a price. Are you prepared to pay it?"
"I'll do whatever it takes," the young man said.
Armstone rose from his chair, his movements deliberate. "Follow me."
He led the young man through a series of winding corridors, eventually stopping at a concealed door. Pushing it open, they entered a chamber steeped in an eerie darkness. The room was dimly lit by flickering torches, their flames casting long, ominous shadows. At the center stood an ornate altar, its surface etched with ancient symbols. The walls bore the emblem of a dark eye, pulsating faintly as though alive.
Armstone reached for a black robe hanging on a nearby hook. He slipped it on, the fabric flowing around him like liquid shadow. A hood concealed most of his face, leaving only his piercing eyes visible. His commanding presence seemed to fill the room, the air growing thick with an unspoken power.
He turned to the young man, his voice low and resonant. "Before you can rise, there must be sacrifice."
The young man nodded, his resolve firm.
Armstone approached the altar, placing his hands on its cold surface. He began chanting in a language that felt ancient, the syllables twisting through the air like serpents. The flickering torches dimmed further, and the pulsating eye on the wall glowed brighter, bathing the room in an unsettling crimson light.
From a small, ornately carved box, Armstone retrieved a dagger with a blade so black it seemed to drink the light around it. He handed it to the young man. "Your blood must seal your request."
Without hesitation, the young man slashed his palm, letting his blood drip onto the altar. The dark eye symbol began to shimmer, its glow intensifying with each drop.
"Now, speak your desire," Armstone commanded.
"I desire to rise above the limitations of this world," the young man said, his voice steady. "I want to be feared, respected, and immortal to the weapons of this world."
Armstone's chanting grew louder, the words becoming almost unbearable to hear. The room vibrated with an otherworldly energy, and a chilling wind swept through, extinguishing the torches. In the suffocating darkness, a voice—deep and inhuman—whispered, "It is done."
The torches reignited, their flames weaker but steady. Armstone lowered his hood, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
"You have what you sought," he said. "But remember, nothing comes without a cost."
The young man wiped his bleeding hand and fixed his gaze on Armstone. "Now, may I see her?"
The smile vanished from Armstone's face, replaced by a steely glare. "No," he said sharply. "You have no business with her. Leave."
The young man clenched his fists. "You haven't changed. You're still the heartless man I've always known."
"And you're still as impulsive as ever," Armstone shot back. "See me soon."
"To hell with 'soon,'" the young man retorted, storming out.
As the door slammed shut behind him, Armstone stood in the chamber, his expression unreadable. "Foolish boy but at least it is done. I can now rest," he muttered under his breath.
Elsewhere, in a chamber mirroring Armstone's, priests clad in white robes gathered. The walls bore a different emblem—a coiled serpent.
One priest approached the high priest seated on a throne of ivory. "Do you feel that aura?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The high priest nodded solemnly. "Yes. A new phase has begun. Armstone is a man of his word. But this… this could be our undoing."
"We must prepare," the priest said. "This might turn out to be our greatest trial..or worst nightmare."
The high priest gazed into the flickering light, his expression grim. "Indeed. The storm is coming but i can't afford to loose.Never."