Life Gallery 37 - Academy Incident

Scene: The Seed Grow

INT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY – PROFESSOR RODERICK'S OFFICE – MORNING

The office of Professor Roderick is a grand space filled with shelves lined with ancient tomes, mystical artifacts, and charts detailing arcane symbols and theories. The air is thick with the scent of parchment and incense, and a faint light filters in through a high, narrow window, casting deep shadows across the room. A polished oak desk sits in the center, and behind it, Professor Roderick, a scholarly figure with silver-rimmed glasses, awaits.

Hugo and Mona exchange glances as they stand just outside, each feeling the weight of an unusual summons.

Mona (nervously): "Do you think we're in trouble?"

Hugo (shrugging): "Hard to say… but Professor Roderick wouldn't call us here if it weren't important."

They knock, and the professor's voice answers from within.

Professor Roderick (calmly): "Come in."

They enter, and Professor Roderick gestures to two leather chairs in front of his desk.

Professor Roderick: "Thank you both for coming on such short notice. Please, take a seat."

Hugo and Mona settle into the leather chairs, looking expectantly at Professor Roderick. But as soon as they sink back, an overwhelming drowsiness sweeps over them. Their eyelids grow heavy, and within seconds, they're slumped in their seats, fast asleep.

Professor Roderick watches, a strange gleam in his eyes. He stands, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses, and mutters under his breath.

Professor Roderick (whispering to himself): "Finally... the time has come."

He moves around the desk, observing the two students with a mix of fascination and purpose. Carefully, he lifts Hugo first, hoisting him over his shoulder with surprising strength for a man of his age. He glances around, ensuring no one else is present, then crosses the room to a bookshelf.

Professor Roderick pulls one of the books—a thick, dusty volume titled The Secrets of Thaumaturgy. A hidden mechanism clicks, and the bookshelf slowly slides to the side, revealing a narrow stone staircase spiraling downward.

INT. PROFESSOR RODERICK'S SECRET LAB – BASEMENT – MOMENTS LATER

In the dim, subterranean lab, Professor Roderick moves Hugo and Mona, one by one, from the stone slabs to a corner of the basement. The two students, still deeply unconscious, show no signs of stirring. Roderick approaches a reinforced iron cell, its bars laced with intricate arcane runes that pulse faintly with a protective enchantment, meant to contain even the most powerful magical attempts at escape.

With practiced care, he opens the heavy cell door, the metal groaning softly. Roderick lays Hugo on the cold stone floor first, then returns for Mona, arranging her beside him. As he steps back, his face shifts to an expression of grim satisfaction. He closes the cell door with a loud clang and secures it with a sturdy, ornate lock. For good measure, he murmurs an incantation under his breath, reactivating the enchantments on the bars, which flash briefly with a dull, protective light.

Roderick takes a deep breath, looking at the two sleeping students, a dark anticipation in his eyes. He turns, glancing toward his alchemical workstation, where bottles, vials, and instruments rest in a meticulously organized layout. The faint bubbling of potions and hum of magical devices fill the otherwise silent room.

Professor Roderick (muttering to himself): "So close... years of preparation, and now, everything is in place."

He stands for a moment in contemplation, fingers brushing the pendant around his neck—a crystalline relic etched with symbols that glow faintly in response to his touch. There is a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but it vanishes quickly, replaced by determination.

Professor Roderick: "For knowledge… and the power we've long sought. This is the only way."

He glances back at Hugo and Mona, their faces serene and unknowing, still deep under the effects of the potion he administered.

As if reassured, Roderick retreats to his desk, where an ancient, leather-bound tome lies open. He scans the text, his finger tracing lines of obscure symbols and incantations, his lips moving soundlessly as he reviews his plans. There is no room for error. This ritual, this carefully orchestrated sequence, must proceed precisely as he has foreseen.

Scene: Debrief in Class – Thoughts of Talent

INT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY – SUPERPOWER BRANCH SECOND-YEAR CLASSROOM – MORNING

The second-year students of the Superpower Branch sit attentively, their eyes fixed on Professor Roderick as he paces at the front of the class. The room is filled with an air of anticipation; Professor Roderick's lectures are famous—or infamous—for their depth and intensity, always touching on complex theories that leave students either fascinated or baffled.

Professor Roderick: "Today, we'll be discussing Aspectual Magic, specifically its relationship to one of the most elusive and forbidden branches—time manipulation."

He pauses, his gaze sweeping the room with an intensity that makes a few students straighten in their seats. His eyes narrow as he seems to evaluate each face, mentally categorizing those he finds promising and those he views as mediocre.

Professor Roderick: "Time… it's commonly perceived as a 'flow' by society, a river moving from past to future. But that's a simplification. In truth, time is not merely a flow; it is a dimension—a scale within reality itself."

He gestures to the chalkboard, drawing a line that curves and bends, illustrating his point. Symbols and equations begin to fill the board as he continues, his voice calm yet tinged with an underlying passion.

Professor Roderick: "When we use Aspectual Magic to manipulate time, we aren't just altering a single moment. We're twisting the very fabric of reality, warping dimensions. Imagine viewing time not as a river, but as a series of interconnected points in space. To meddle with these points is to rearrange the tapestry of existence itself."

The students are silent, absorbed, some looking awestruck, others intimidated. Professor Roderick turns his gaze to Yue, the top student, known as the "King" of St. Alaric. Yue's presence commands respect; his reputation as the academy's strongest student precedes him, and his calm, observant demeanor suggests an intelligence that runs deep.

Professor Roderick: "Yue. What are your thoughts on this theory?"

Yue leans back slightly, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and attentive. He speaks with measured precision.

Yue: "It's fascinating. Your theory combines both scientific and magical perspectives. The concept of time as another dimension aligns with the principles in Einstein's Theory of Relativity, where time and space are intertwined. The idea that Aspectual Magic can materialize this complex theory by manipulating even the smallest details… it's brilliant."

Roderick's eyes light up with satisfaction, a rare smile crossing his face. He looks at Yue with an unmistakable admiration, mentally labeling him as one of the few true prodigies in the academy. For a moment, his mind drifts, envisioning Yue as his protégé, guiding him down paths of discovery, unlocking the mysteries of Aspectual Magic together.

But then, a shadow passes over his expression as a bitter thought surfaces. He remembers Yue's family—the Gentoshi family, known for their pragmatic approach to life. Those of the Gentoshi bloodline pursue wealth and power over pure knowledge, science over magic. They would never embrace the dedication to arcane mastery that Roderick desires in a disciple.

Roderick's gaze hardens, and he sighs inwardly, a regret settling deep in his chest. He remembers someone else, someone who was passionate but lacking in natural talent. His own daughter, Darcy.

Flashback – Roderick's Memories

Darcy, a girl with bright eyes and an infectious smile, is standing before him in his study, looking up at him with an eagerness that was both heartwarming and painful. She wasn't talented, not by any standard; her spells were often clumsy, her magical control unrefined. But she was determined, always studying late into the night, training longer than anyone else.

Darcy: "I'll get stronger, Father. I'll make you proud. I'll prove that hard work can overcome anything."

But it hadn't. She had pushed herself to the breaking point, her lack of natural ability leading her to a fatal encounter with monsters in a dungeon. Roderick remembers the day he received the news, the hollow feeling that consumed him, the anger that followed. He'd lost his only child, his passionate, driven Darcy, all because she had been too "ordinary."

From that day forward, he'd vowed to never invest in talentless people. Hard work was futile, he believed, a cruel illusion. Only those like Yue or Ludociel, with natural-born gifts, were worthy of his time and respect. He resented those who, like Darcy, pursued dreams beyond their reach, knowing the danger that awaited them.

The memory fades, and Roderick focuses back on the present, his face set in a stern, almost cold expression. He looks out at his class, his gaze lingering on the students who clearly struggle, who follow the lecture with furrowed brows and hesitant glances. The sight fills him with disdain, and he dismisses them mentally as hopeless cases, students who will never rise above mediocrity.

Professor Roderick: "Let me be clear. Aspectual Magic, and time manipulation in particular, is not something to be attempted by those who lack the aptitude. This field requires more than hard work—it demands true brilliance."

His words are sharp, and a few students shift uncomfortably, understanding the implicit judgment.

Professor Roderick: "Those without the necessary talent should focus on simpler, safer branches of magic. Leave the mastery of time and space to those with the capacity to wield it."

He glances at Yue one last time, feeling the sting of regret and bitterness. Talents like Yue's were rare, and yet, even the greatest talents could be wasted if aligned with the wrong values. He turns back to the board, ready to dive deeper into the theory, his voice steady but filled with an unmistakable edge.

The class continues, but there is a tension in the air—a sense that Professor Roderick's lesson is more than an academic lecture. It is a reminder of his ruthless beliefs, a glimpse into the bitterness and sorrow that have hardened him into a man who values talent above all else.

Scene: The Auction Gone Wrong

INT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY – GRAND HALL – AFTERNOON

The auction hall is opulently decorated, its high ceilings and marble pillars lending an air of prestige and mystery to the event. Attendees from all over the world fill the seats, dressed in robes and fine suits, murmuring in anticipation of the rare artifact soon to be displayed.

At the center of the hall, surrounded by a shimmering barrier of protective magic, rests an ancient, leather-bound grimoire—Pythagoras, oder Betrachtungen über die geheime Welt- und Regierungs-Kunst, written by none other than Adam Weishaupt, the legendary founder of the Bavarian Illuminati, the rival of the Rosicrucian Order at the time. The book radiates an aura of forbidden knowledge, and the crowd's excitement is palpable.

Two figures stand prominently at the front of the hall, facing each other with intense expressions: Griffin Discordia, the grand mage and guild mistress of Cloud Tower, a powerful sorceress draped in dark, elegant robes; and Pope Francis, the venerable leader of the Vatican, wearing his white cassock adorned with ceremonial gold. Their auras clash even before they speak, one embodying the essence of magical scholarship and the other of religious authority.

Griffin Discordia: (eyes narrowed) "This grimoire is a masterpiece of arcane knowledge. Adam Weishaupt wrote it under threat from the church and Bavarian monarchy, crafting it in secret to preserve his enlightened ideals. It rightfully belongs to the magical community."

Pope Francis: (his voice calm but firm) "Adam Weishaupt may have been an Illuminatus, but Bavaria was, and remains, a Catholic land. The knowledge contained in this tome is dangerous, and its rightful place is within the Church's archives, where it can be safeguarded from misuse."

The crowd watches intently, captivated by the intensity between these two powerful figures. Both are revered in their circles—Griffin as a brilliant, if controversial, sorceress, and the Pope as a wise and determined leader. But neither is willing to yield ground on this matter.

Griffin Discordia: (smirking) "The Church calls it dangerous only because it fears what it doesn't understand. This grimoire could elevate magical studies to new heights. I intend to honor Weishaupt's work and ensure it isn't locked away to gather dust."

Pope Francis: (his expression darkening) "Knowledge without wisdom is perilous. This artifact belongs to the Church, and we will guard it with the utmost care, as we have safeguarded humanity from countless threats throughout history."

The auctioneer, sensing the tension escalating, steps forward and raises his hands to restore order.

Auctioneer: "Please, esteemed guests. The Grimoire of Weishaupt will soon be presented for verification. Both parties must place their hand on the seal to confirm the integrity of the auction."

Griffin and Pope Francis exchange one last, lingering glare before stepping up to the pedestal where the grimoire sits within its barrier. They each raise a hand, placing it on the glowing magical seal engraved on the platform. The hall holds its collective breath.

For a moment, all is still. But then—

CRACK!

A tremor reverberates through the hall, followed by a violent quake that shakes the very foundation of the academy. Gasps and cries erupt from the audience as the protective barrier around the grimoire shatters in a burst of light. The entire room plunges into chaos as everyone instinctively shields their eyes.

When the light fades, they see a figure standing near the now-exposed grimoire—a figure cloaked in dark robes with a determined expression: Professor Roderick.

With an almost imperceptible smirk, he stretches out a hand over the grimoire, murmuring an incantation. Space itself begins to ripple, and within seconds, Roderick and the grimoire are enveloped in a field of distorted reality. Before anyone can react, he vanishes into thin air, leaving the hall in stunned silence.

The crowd erupts in confusion, and Griffin and Pope Francis, realizing they've been outmaneuvered, exchange looks of shock and fury.

Griffin Discordia: (gritting her teeth) "That… that thief! Using Aspectual Magic so boldly—does he have any idea of the forces he's tampering with?"

Pope Francis: (seething) "He is a fool if he thinks he can harness such forbidden knowledge alone. This is sacrilege!"

The ground continues to rumble as residual magic from the grimoire's stolen barrier dissipates, shaking the artifacts and decorations around the hall. The audience buzzes with alarmed whispers, as both Griffin and Pope Francis scramble to devise a plan to recover the lost grimoire.

The auction hall, once grand and serene, is now a scene of chaos as tremors continue to shake the floors and walls. The ancient Grimoire of Weishaupt has vanished, and Professor Roderick has disappeared along with it. Dust falls from the ceiling as the quaking intensifies, and attendees scramble in fear, pushing toward the exits.

Griffin Discordia immediately shifts into action, her expression sharp and focused. She raises her hands, casting a barrier spell around the most vulnerable section of the crowd to protect them from falling debris.

Griffin Discordia: (commandingly) "Everyone, remain calm! Gather near the enchanted barrier—I'll shield you from the tremors!"

As people move toward her protective spell, Pope Francis steps forward, taking control of the crowd nearest to him. His voice, calm and authoritative, cuts through the panic.

Pope Francis: "Children, adults, gather yourselves! Help one another and proceed in an orderly fashion toward the exits. Do not run—trust in divine protection, and we will make it through this safely."

Several teachers and guards begin to rally around the Pope and Griffin, assisting in guiding students and guests to safety. A young mage stumbles, and Pope Francis quickly catches him, steadying the child with a reassuring nod before sending him toward the exit.

Griffin Discordia: (to the guards) "Alert the academy's staff! The whole campus must be informed—Professor Roderick has taken the grimoire, and we're dealing with unpredictable magic here. Evacuate everyone in the vicinity of the Grand Hall and prepare containment measures!"

A loud crack resounds as a portion of the ceiling begins to give way, splintering down the middle. Griffin's hands glow as she reinforces her barrier to shield the crowd from the falling stone.

Pope Francis: (to a guard) "Go now! Inform the headmistress, the entire campus may be at risk if Roderick's magic was unstable."

The guard nods and dashes off toward the academy's central wing to alert the headmistress and other faculty members. Meanwhile, Griffin and the Pope continue organizing the evacuation, both setting aside their rivalry in the face of the immediate danger.

Scene: Abyssal Eyes of Desire

INT. ABYSS OF QLIPHOTH – ASMODEUS DOMAIN – GOLAB

In the dark, surreal depths of Qliphoth, Mara, the Demon King of Lust, watches the events of the human world unfold through a swirling portal. Her figure, delicate yet ominous, stands in stark contrast to the twisted, otherworldly surroundings. Mara's long silver hair cascades around her like a shroud, with hearts and dark star-shaped symbols scattered across her outfit—a seductive combination of elegance and mystery. Her eyes, bright and mischievous, flicker with a curious gleam as she observes the auction hall scene.

Mara: (smiling wickedly) "Aww... So that is what those mad scientists are planning... Using a grand mage as their pawn… How exciting~"

She laughs softly, her tone filled with both amusement and a strange, unsettling sadness. Just then, Sorne Diaz enters the chamber, her armor gleaming in the low light, hugging her form with little left to the imagination. A sword rests at her side, marking her as a fierce warrior in service to her demonic queen.

Sorne: (bowing) "Your Infernal Majesty, are you feeling well?"

Mara's smile fades, and her eyes grow dark, flickering with an almost haunted sorrow.

Mara: "Good? What are you saying, Sorne? I feel very bad!!! To think that humans could cause so much harm to each other… all for their petty gains."

She sighs, an expression of genuine pity and disdain on her face. Her voice softens, full of lamentation.

Mara, the Demon King of Lust. She goes with the name of Asmodeus for those who believe in Christianity. In Buddhist mythology, she was the one who tried to hinder Buddha from attaining enlightenment. Yet here she stands, a paradox—a beautiful demon who believes in a world without harm, a world of boundless pleasure for humanity. She hates humans not for their weaknesses, but because they kill more of each other than any demon ever could. To her, she is the true monarch of this world… one who desires nothing but an untainted happiness for her subjects. 

Sorne: (looking down, respectfully) "I… am saddened to hear that, Your Infernal Majesty."

Mara glances at Sorne, a small, reassuring smile playing on her lips as she places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Mara: "It is alright, Sorne. I cannot let this continue… not any longer. They are mine, after all. My subjects, my precious beings." (Her tone hardens.) "So, come now… go to them, Sorne. And save them."

Sorne: (bowing with determination) "I understand, Your Majesty. I shall go at once."

Sorne turns and strides purposefully from Mara's chamber, her figure disappearing into the darkness of Qliphoth. Mara watches her go, her expression softening into a look of faint hope, even as shadows and distant screams echo through the abyss around her.

Mara: (whispering to herself) "A world without pain… the world that is full of pleasure and happiness…"

Scene: The Fear of Teachers

INT. PROFESSOR RODERICK'S SECRET LAB – BASEMENT – LATE AFTERNOON

Hugo's eyes slowly open, adjusting to the dim light that filters through the iron bars of the cell. He blinks, disoriented, as he takes in the cold stone walls surrounding him and feels the chill of the floor beneath. Beside him, Mona stirs, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Mona: (blinking groggily, then gasping as she realizes their situation) "Hugo... where are we?"

Suddenly, panic grips her. She scrambles to her feet and rushes to the cell bars, clutching them tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Mona: (screaming) "HELP! Somebody, help us! Professor Roderick—he locked us in here! HELP!"

Her voice echoes through the basement, a desperate cry that fades into eerie silence. Just then, a shadowy figure appears from the dim hallway beyond the cell bars. He is a stocky man with a crow mask obscuring his face, dark feathers lining the back of his robes, forming what look like small, malformed wings. He exudes an air of both arrogance and menace.

Kloom: (grumbling) "Would you shut up, girl? Your screaming could wake up things down here you really don't want to meet."

Mona stifles another scream, her eyes wide with terror as she presses herself back against the wall, staring at Kloom. Hugo, now fully alert, steps protectively in front of her, casting a wary gaze at the man.

Hugo: (recognizing him) "You... you're Kloom. I've seen you around Professor Roderick's office. You're one of his researchers, studies in Aspectual Magic theory."

Kloom tilts his head, amused by Hugo's recognition, but otherwise unimpressed.

Kloom: "Ah, so the boy pays attention. Yes, that's me. And as for why you're here…" (he chuckles darkly) "You two are valuable, more so than any of the other rabble around this academy. Professor Roderick has chosen you both as his test subjects. An honor, really."

Mona: (in disbelief, her voice trembling) "Test subjects? For what? Professor Roderick... he's supposed to teach us, not… imprison us! This has to be some kind of mistake!"

Kloom smirks, folding his arms and leaning casually against the wall across from their cell.

Kloom: "Mistake? Oh no, my dear. Professor Roderick chose you quite specifically. High regard and all that nonsense. He has plans for the both of you, so I've been told to keep my hands off… regrettably."

He sounds almost disappointed, as though he wishes he had the freedom to experiment on them himself. Mona looks horrified, her mind racing as she tries to make sense of everything.

Hugo: (angrily) "So, we're nothing more than lab rats to you and Roderick? After everything we've learned, after the trust we placed in him…"

Kloom shrugs nonchalantly.

Kloom: "Trust is a luxury, boy. Especially when knowledge and power are at stake. Professor Roderick understands this… he's willing to do what others won't to reach his goals."

He glances at Mona with a smirk, as if savoring the fear on her face.

Kloom: (mockingly) "Better get comfortable. Or rather, uncomfortable. Professor Roderick will be down soon enough to start his work."

He turns, his dark figure fading into the shadows of the basement corridor, leaving the two students alone and trapped in their cell. Mona's panic turns into despair, and she slumps against the wall, struggling to hold back tears.

Mona: (whispering, voice shaking) "How could he do this to us? I thought… I thought he was supposed to protect us, teach us."

Hugo: (placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder) "We're going to get out of this, Mona. We just have to stay calm and think. There's got to be a way… maybe if we can break the enchantment on these bars…"

He examines the intricate runes etched into the cell bars, their faint glow an ever-present reminder of the magical barrier holding them in place. Mona looks at Hugo, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes.

Scene: The Gate of Monsters

EXT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY – SKY ABOVE THE CAMPUS – LATE AFTERNOON

As the last of the terrified auction attendees are guided to safety, the ground trembles once more—this time with a violence that rattles the entire academy. Students and teachers pause, glancing upward with widening eyes. Suddenly, with a sound like tearing fabric, a massive dimensional gate rips open in the sky directly above the academy. Swirling with ominous energy, the gate pulses as it disgorges a torrent of monsters: wyverns screech as they dive down, gargoyles spread their wings and swoop, while orcs, goblins, slimes, and other monstrous creatures pour through in a relentless wave.

The once-orderly evacuation turns into utter chaos as panic spreads. Amid the fear, two figures snap into action, momentarily forgetting their rivalry as they survey the horrors descending upon the academy grounds.

Griffin Discordia: (scanning the sky, eyes sharp) "A… a gate?!"

Pope Francis: (shout) "Everyone, quickly evacuate to safety!!"

They exchange a brief, resolute nod. Despite their earlier antagonism over the grimoire, Griffin and Pope Francis know they have no choice but to join forces. They are the academy's best hope for survival.

Griffin Discordia: (raising her voice to address her guild) "Hunters, to me! Protect the students and push these monsters back! Wyverns first—take them out of the air before they spread havoc below!"

Pope Francis: (calling to his priests) "Priests, stay close to those in need. Heal the injured and bless the defenders. Do not let fear cloud your purpose!"

EXT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY COURTYARD – BATTLEFIELD

Griffin's guild hunters spread out across the courtyard, forming a defensive line. Some of them are skilled archers and mages who immediately take aim at the wyverns, sending volleys of arrows and blasts of magic into the air. Others wield enchanted swords and shields, ready to defend against the orcs and goblins charging across the ground.

The first wave of monsters hits hard, but the hunters stand their ground. Students who had gathered outside or were trapped in the open sprint toward the safety of the buildings as hunters clear paths, yelling for them to keep moving.

Nearby, Pope Francis raises his cross, chanting a powerful incantation. A golden dome of protective light spreads over a group of students and teachers, shielding them from an oncoming horde of goblins.

Pope Francis: (booming voice) "Fear not! Stand firm! With faith as our shield, we shall overcome this darkness."

At his command, the priests spread out, tending to the injured with the Blessing of Healing. Their hands glow with divine energy, and as they touch the wounded, broken bones mend, cuts close, and exhaustion fades. The golden glow around them serves as a beacon of hope, drawing those in need of aid.

As the chaos rages, the academy's loudspeakers crackle to life. A commanding yet calm voice cuts through the mayhem, calling everyone's attention.

Headmistress Laura Stuart: (over the loudspeakers) "Attention all teachers and students still on campus. This is Headmistress Laura Stuart. I am asking any capable fighters to join us in defending the academy. We must protect those who cannot fight. To all others, seek shelter immediately. Together, we will hold the line!"

The headmistress, a strikingly youthful woman with golden hair that flows well past her height, speaks with unwavering authority. Her words echo across the campus, galvanizing those who had been unsure of their next move.

In various corners of the academy, students and teachers alike react to her call.

INT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY HALLWAYS – VARIOUS LOCATIONS

In one hallway, Navia and Ryo, students of the superpower branch, exchange glances. Though caught off guard by the sudden gate, they feel a pull to stand their ground.

Navia: (nervously) "You think we can handle this? The royals have already left… we're not—"

Ryo: (resolute) "Doesn't matter. This is our school too. I'm fighting. With or without the royals."

Inspired, several others around them nod, murmuring their agreement. They ready themselves, a newfound determination sparking in their eyes.

EXT. ACADEMY COURTYARD – CAMPUS GROUNDS

In the courtyard, Professor Velorum raises his hands, creating intricate magical circles around the perimeter. One by one, shimmering barriers spring up, surrounding buildings and shielding the panicked students within.

Professor Velorum: (murmuring an incantation) "Hold steady… protect the young ones."

A loud crash draws his attention. An ogre attempts to break through one of the barriers, but it holds, rippling with energy. He grits his teeth, pouring more power into maintaining the protective shield.

Nearby, Mrs. Mühlhausen, a stout dwarf with braided silver hair and a gleaming collection of crafted weapons, hands out swords and shields to students willing to fight. Alfred and Juno, two eager first-years, accept the weapons gratefully, gripping them tightly.

Mrs. Mühlhausen: (gruffly) "These aren't toys, mind you! Swing true and aim for their legs—slow 'em down if you can't take 'em down."

The two nod, faces serious, as they join a group of other fighters forming a defensive line.

On the battlefield, a wyvern dives toward a group of fleeing students. Before it can reach them, Professor Aster steps forward, his calm eyes flashing.

Professor Aster: (firmly) "No further."

With a glance, his ability to nullify powers forms an invisible shield, dampening the wyvern's fiery breath mid-air. The creature shrieks, confused, before he sends a powerful kick to its underbelly, knocking it to the ground.

EXT. ST. ALARIC ACADEMY COURTYARD – CENTER OF THE BATTLEFIELD

Griffin Discordia and Pope Francis observe the surprising turn of events. Griffin watches in astonishment as the teachers and even students begin to rally.

Griffin Discordia: (impressed) "I didn't think the staff would join the frontlines like this."

Pope Francis: (smiling, voice filled with admiration) "This academy is stronger than we thought. Every one of them is fighting for it."

Just then, Henry, a second-year student with telekinetic abilities, steps forward, concentrating on a boulder nearby. With a deep breath, he launches the rock at an approaching wyvern, knocking it out of the sky.

Henry: (to his fellow students) "Come on, guys! We've got this!"

Pope Francis: (calling out to the priests) "Hold your positions! With faith and purpose, protect those who need us!"

The tide of the battle begins to shift. With teachers like Professor Velorum and Mrs. Mühlhausen leading the charge, students like Ryo, Navia, Alfred, Juno, and Henry find courage in their efforts. As they stand shoulder to shoulder, a unified front of students, hunters, priests, and teachers defends the academy against the monstrous onslaught.

As the Gate's energy pulses ominously, the defenders rally, their hearts steeled, ready to face whatever horrors emerge next.

Scene: Magic Mirror on the Wall

INT. LYSANDER'S APARTMENT – EVENING

The cozy apartment is dimly lit, shadows cast by flickering candlelight, but the golden circle mirror on the wall gleams, displaying the chaotic scenes unfolding at St. Alaric Academy. The mirror shows wyverns diving, gargoyles swooping, and hunters and priests desperately battling the monstrous invaders. Angela, elegant and composed, watches intently.

Angela: (smiling smugly) "With my ability to control other living beings' perception, I've combined it with a certain spell I learned from the Rose. It's a simple familiar spell. Let me contract animals I've charmed and share their vision through this mirror."

Lysander: (grinning) "The mirror our company created—originally just a mana-powered screen substitute… and in your hands, it's a surveillance system. Excellent use, sister."

Alexei: (smirking as he holds Floria close) "You're really playing the Evil Queen role, sis."

Angela: (playfully) "No harm will come to your 'babe', Alexei. My mirror's for watching, not acting. Yet."

Floria: (smiling, cheeks flushed) "That's good to know."

The battle on the mirror intensifies. Hunters and teachers clash with the creatures streaming through the gate.

Angela: "Still… a gate, opening right on top of the school. I expected Roderick to be the main player here."

Lysander: (thoughtfully) "Someone may be interested in our plans… a demon, perhaps?"

At the mention of demons, everyone pauses, tension thick in the air.

Floria: (concerned) "So… Hugo… he really might be Satan, after all?"

Lysander: (shaking his head) "We don't know yet. But the timing of this gate, right after Roderick stole the grimoire—it's either one incredible coincidence or a demonic maneuver. I'd choose the latter. There have been too many reports of demonic activity lately."

Alexei: (scowling) "Tch… that demonic bastard…"

As the mirror continues displaying the battle raging at St. Alaric Academy, Floria leans into Alexei, watching with a mixture of relief and concern.

Floria: "Good thing we all left school early today, right?"

Angela: (smiling slightly) "Yes, and I made sure my friends left, too. Along with their friends. No sense in them getting caught in the chaos."

Alexei: (chuckling) "And since some of those friends are top-ranking students… the academy must be in disarray without any royals around. No powerful students rally for their defense."

They fall silent, watching the chaos at the academy, each pondering the implications.

Scene: The Fear of Teachers

INT. PROFESSOR RODERICK'S SECRET LAB – BASEMENT – EVENING

Hugo and Mona stand frozen, peering out from the shadows of their cell at the colossal creature slumbering just beyond the bars. The dragon lies sprawled across the floor, its immense body coiled with a terrifying elegance, each scale a frosty white that shimmers faintly in the dim light. Cold mist curls from its nostrils, spreading an eerie fog through the air around it, blanketing the room in an unnatural chill.

Mona: (whispering, unable to look away) "A Frost Guardian… I never thought I'd actually see one in person, let alone be stuck in a cell with it."

Hugo: (whispering) "A frost guardian? That dragon?"

Mona: (whispering, unable to look away) "Yes, but by the size of it, it seems to be just a baby dragon or a small one. Dragon is always considered to be a boss in a dungeon so it's best not to fight it or wake it up."

The echo of Kloom's footsteps fades down the dark hallway, and silence settles around Hugo and Mona in the cell. In the dim light, they see the massive form of the white dragon lying just outside their cell, still in a deep slumber.

Hugo: (whispering) "Alright, I think we're alone now. If we're going to get out of here, we have to try everything."

He raises his hand, summoning his Hell Blaze. Black flames engulf his palm, and he presses them against the iron bars, hoping to weaken them. But as the flames make contact, the iron bars remain unyielding, locked in a strange state.

Hugo: (frustrated) "What…? The bars aren't heating up or melting at all. It's like they're frozen in time."

Mona: (examining the bars closely) "Aspectual magic… looks like it's been enchanted to keep these bars locked in a temporal stasis. No matter how much power you pour into them, they won't break. But maybe… maybe there's another way."

She crouches down, picking up a small branch from the cell floor. Her eyes flicker with determination as she begins to sketch intricate magic circles along the joints of the cell door.

Hugo: (watching her in amazement) "What are you doing?"

Mona: "If we can't destroy the door, we might be able to dismantle it. Aspectual magic may prevent breaking the bars, but if I disrupt the binding at the joints, I might be able to detach it instead."

She finishes drawing the circles, her focus intense. A faint glow surrounds the lines, and with a soft rumble, the cell door begins to loosen, creaking as the joints destabilize.

Hugo: (eyes widening in awe) "Mona… you're brilliant. I never would've thought of that."

Mona: (smiling slightly, her confidence growing) "Just took a little improvising. But we have to be careful. This spell is a bit unstable, and I'm not sure how long it will last."

As the door tilts, Hugo quickly catches it, holding it steady to keep it from clattering to the ground. They freeze for a moment, glancing at the sleeping dragon outside. It shifts slightly, but doesn't wake.

Hugo: (in a low whisper) "Nice work. Now let's get out of here quietly. We can't risk waking that dragon… or letting Kloom know we've escaped."

They exchange a determined nod, each steeling themselves as they prepare to make their way out of the dim, ominous basement, leaving the enchanted cell behind.