In the same moment, in a dark underground room illuminated by faint blue torches, overlooking towering pharonic statues and a massive, strange figure seated in the center of the room, a group of mysterious characters gathered around a wide, circular table adorned with strange symbols that reflected the blue glow emanating from the torches.
An elderly man with glowing eyes sat on a carved stone chair and spoke in a calm but deep voice:
"We have gathered here because the balance is about to be broken. The Rakim has appears ... and we all know what that means."
A woman dressed in a black cloak smiled coldly, leaning on a silver cane:
"Indeed, Armanius, and that means our time has come. The world needs to evolve, and you still don't understand that."
A priest wearing a golden mask struck the ground with his staff, and a hollow voice echoed as he spoke in a deep tone:
"No, it means the ancient curse will be resurrected! Anyone who approaches the Rakim will meet the same fate as our ancient masters. We are here to discuss how to keep the secret buried!"
A man with a sturdy military build sat with his hands clasped, looking fiercely at everyone:
"You all speak of the Rakim as if it's a treasure! But it's nothing more than a weapon of destruction. I'm here for one reason only—it cannot fall into the hands of the Aura-bearers, especially that boy!"
Servia smiled slyly:
"Oh, Falcon... are you afraid? Is a man like you really scared of a little boy?"
Falcon slammed the table and said in a rough voice:
"I don't call it fear. I call it responsibility. The chaos caused by his kind destroyed my family, and I won't let that happen again."
"Enough."
A shadowy figure behind a black curtain, whose voice could not be identified as male or female, spoke in a calm yet deep tone, as if the voice emerged from the void itself.
Silence suddenly fell in the hall, as if the voice commanded authority over all.
Then it spoke with a chilling calm:
"You are all looking at the Rakim from your narrow perspectives. But it is more than just energy, a curse, or a threat. It is a key. A key to something greater... something you have not yet seen."
Armanius narrowed his eyes:
"You mean something other than power?"
The Greater Eye:
"I mean that whoever possesses it... will not merely be a king or a leader. They will be above all."
Tension slowly grew.
Hathor, the golden-masked priest, spoke slowly, as if testing everyone:
"So, what shall we do about the boy?"
Servia said with a sly smile:
"I have a plan... one that might be more effective than simply killing him."
Falcon looked at her with narrowed eyes:
"I only believe in bullets. But let's hear what you have."
Servia leaned forward, with her cunning smile widening, then said in a low but threatening voice:
"Why don't we turn him into one of us?"
For a moment, everyone's eyes widened. Silence filled the room.
Armanius spoke hesitantly but seriously:
"That's impossible. The boy is not like the others."
Servia laughed slyly and said:
"Oh, isn't he? Well... let's see what happens when we offer him a deal he can't refuse. I've already sent one of my followers to find him while we speak."
The statues around the room trembled slightly... as if the world itself rejected what had been said.
Then the Greater Eye, the shadowy entity, spoke with profound mystery:
"Whether he accepts the offer or rejects it... his fate was sealed long ago."
The Greater Eye spoke again, its voice echoing through the room as if coming from the depths of the earth:
"Servia's plan might be effective... but remember, the boy is no ordinary person. His powers may be greater than we imagine. If we fail to control him, he could become the greatest threat to us all."
Servia smiled coldly, fiddling with her silver cane with her slender hand:
"That's why I sent my most skilled follower. He won't disappoint me. The boy will join us... or be destroyed."
Falcon muttered under his breath, his voice filled with threat, as he clenched his fist tightly:
"If your plan fails, I will step in. And I won't hesitate to end this the way I know best. Bullets don't betray."
Armanius looked at everyone with narrowed eyes, as if trying to read their thoughts:
"So be it. But remember... if we lose the boy, we may lose everything. The Rakim is not just power... it's a test. A test of our will."
Hathor struck the ground with his staff again, and his hollow voice echoed through the room:
"The ancient curse will spare no one. If we make a mistake, we will all pay the price. Are you prepared to bear that?"
Servia smiled, her eyes glinting in the faint blue glow:
"A curse? Power? You all speak as if you know the future. But I see what you don't. The boy is the key... and I will ensure that we are the ones who control him."
The Greater Eye intervened again, its voice shaking the entire room:
"Enough. Your plan may be good, but do not underestimate the boy's abilities. I have seen what will happen if we fail... and the vision was not pleasant."
Armanius looked at the entity with skeptical eyes:
"And what exactly did you see?"
The Greater Eye paused for a moment, then said in a calm but threatening voice:
"I saw the end of everything. I saw the world burn, and I saw us... joining our ancient masters in the darkness."
The statues around the room trembled again, as if groaning under the weight of the words. Even the blue torches dimmed for a moment, casting an eerie darkness over the room.
Armanius whispered softly, as if speaking to himself:
"So, this is our fate if we fail..."
Servia suddenly stood, her black cloak flowing around her like the wings of a raven:
"There's no need to fear. The boy will be under our control soon. And we won't let him destroy everything."
Falcon looked at her with narrowed eyes, then said coldly:
"I hope you're right. Because if I see any threat, I won't hesitate to act."
The Greater Eye spoke again, its voice filling the room:
"There will be no need for that. The boy will be here soon... and then, we will see who prevails: our will... or his power."
-
Servia returned to her hidden palace in a dark place, where she eagerly awaited the return of Shtmar with the boy and the Rakim. The palace was engulfed in heavy silence, shrouded in darkness except for the faint glow emanating from the blue torches hanging on the stone walls. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, as if everything in the palace was holding its breath, waiting for the fateful event.
Servia wandered through the vast corridors of the palace, her black cloak trailing behind her like the wings of a raven. Her eyes, gleaming with intelligence and cunning, hinted at her self-confidence, but deep inside, she felt a hidden unease. She knew that this moment could determine her fate and the fate of the entire world.
In the throne room, she sat on her intricately carved throne, adorned with mysterious symbols and small statues of ancient deities. In front of her was a black marble table holding a detailed map of the places where the boy and the Rakim might be. Her slender fingers traced the lines and markings on the map as she planned her next move.
"Shtmar will not disappoint me," she whispered to herself in a soft but threatening tone. "The boy will be here soon... and we will see if he can endure what I have prepared for him."
Outside, darkness enveloped the place, and the wind howled faintly, as if warning of the events to come. Servia looked out the window, her eyes gleaming in the dark, as she prepared for the final move in her dangerous game. Everything was at stake, and she knew that any mistake could cost her everything.
"The Rakim will be mine," she said in a calm but determined voice. "And the boy... will be a tool in my hands, whether he wants it or not."
Then she closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her strength for the final step. She knew that the real battle had not yet begun, and that everything that had happened so far was merely a prelude to what was coming.
From nowhere, a mysterious portal appeared in the center of the room, shimmering with an eerie purple glow. Out of it stumbled "Shtmar," weak and barely standing. His body was covered in deep wounds, blood dripping onto the stone floor. His mask was shattered, revealing the burnt, disfigured half of his face, with charred skin and a single eye glowing with a mix of rage and pain.
Servia, who had been sitting on her throne, suddenly stood up, her eyes widening in shock. "Shtmar!" she shouted, her voice filled with both concern and anger. "What happened? Where is the boy? Where is the Rakim?"
Shtmar fell to his knees, breathing heavily, his voice hoarse and broken as he tried to speak: "The... the cursed priest appeared... his power... it's uncontrollable..." He coughed up blood, struggling to continue. "The boy... he has the Book of Shadows... we have barely escaped... after my battle... with the old man..."
Servia rushed toward him, her eyes blazing with fury. "This is impossible! How could someone like you fail?!" she screamed, gripping her silver cane tightly as if ready to punish him.
Shtmar looked up at her, his single eye glowing with a mix of pain and resignation. "You... don't understand... his power... it's not human... he's stronger than the last time we fought him... he's now using the Gray aura." Then he collapsed to the ground, his body trembling from pain and exhaustion.
Servia stood over him, her face a mixture of anger and fear. She knew that Shtmar's failure meant the boy could become far more dangerous than she had anticipated. "If the old man is protecting him and teaching him how to use his powers..." she whispered to herself, "everything is at risk."
She turned to Shtmar, who was trying to crawl away from her. "You're a failure!" she shouted, raising her silver cane as if to finish him off. But she paused, as if considering something else.
"No... killing you now won't help me," she said in a calm but threatening tone. "You will return to the field... and you will fix what you've ruined. And if you fail again... I won't be merciful."
"Wait a moment and look at the portal," Shtmar said, fear evident on his face. "Come, Imad, and bring the prisoner."
Out stepped Imad, the other masked figure who had fought Ihab, dragging Khalid, Noah's friend, who knelt before Servia.
Servia looked at Khalid with curiosity, noticing a faint, barely visible aura beginning to emanate from his body. The aura was weak, but it was there, as if hinting at something mysterious and latent within Khalid.
"Who is this?" Servia asked sharply, studying Khalid carefully. "And this aura... what does it mean?"
Shtmar, still struggling to breathe, spoke weakly: "He's the boy's friend... we captured him during the battle. I think he might be useful... especially with this aura emerging from him."
Servia stepped closer to Khalid, her eyes scrutinizing him intently. "Do you know what you carry within you?" she asked in a calm but threatening tone. "Or are you just a pawn in the hands of fate?"
Khalid looked up at her, his eyes reflecting fear and confusion. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice trembling. "I just want to go back to my friend."
Servia smirked coldly, twirling her silver cane. "Your friend?" she said mockingly. "Your friend is the reason you're here now. But don't worry... we'll discover together what this aura hides."
Then she turned to Shtmar and Imad. "Take him to the lower dungeon. Don't let him escape. I'll deal with him later."
As Imad led Khalid away, Servia stood deep in thought, contemplating her next move. The aura she had seen on Khalid intrigued her, and she knew it could be the key to understanding the boy's power and the Rakim. But she also knew time was running out, and any delay could mean failure.
"The old man, the boy... and now this mysterious friend," she whispered to herself. "The game has become more complicated... but I won't let them win."