The usual morning buzz at Mecatopia Academy was replaced by chaos. Students darted through the halls, their footsteps echoing like a frantic melody. Fear hung heavy in the air. Isabella stood near the staircase, her sharp eyes scanning the scene.

"What's going on?" she muttered under her breath. Before anyone could answer, the Grand Bell rang.

In the Grand Hall, hundreds of students gathered, whispering anxiously. Professor Adam stood on the dais, his expression grave.

"Silence!" he called, his voice commanding the room's attention. "Last night, forty-five students disappeared. Healers and pure-bloods, taken without a trace, our siren student Sirela, the finalist of task also get dissapeared."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Other students, Overnight?" Isabella whispered to Phillip, who stood beside her. "This has never happened before. Not here."

"Until he showed up," Lysandra replied, her jaw tight. "Arathor."

The mention of his name made Isabella shiver. She clenched her fists, her mind replaying the moment he took her blood.

An hour later, Isabella's closest allies gathered in the Command Area, an ancient, circular chamber hidden beneath the library. The air was thick with tension.

Aurora leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "This is madness. Forty-five students? How does that even happen without anyone noticing?"

Phillip added, "If someone could take that many people silently, we're not dealing with an ordinary threat. We're dealing with"

"Something impossible," Isabella finished. "And yet, here we are."

Phillip leaned back. "So what's the plan? Because while we're sitting here joking, people are still disappearing."

As the room quieted, everyone turned to Isabella.

"I think I know who's behind this," Isabella began, her voice steady but filled with worry. "And if I'm right, we need to act fast. But first we have to find a cure for Felix and learn how to release Sirela from there."

The dim glow of the lanterns flickered against the towering shelves of the ancient library. Isabella turned another fragile page, her fingers trembling slightly. Beside her, Phillip stood with his arms crossed, his crimson eyes scanning the text over her shoulder. The smell of old parchment filled the room as they poured through the crumbling book.

“Here it is,” Isabella whispered, tapping her finger against a faded illustration of a dark, grotesque figure surrounded by shadowy wisps. “The Sword of the Shadow Masters… It doesn’t just kill—it marks its victim, draining them slowly, feeding off their essence.”

Phillip frowned, his jaw tightening. “And Felix? He’s…”

“He’s dying,” Isabella said flatly, her voice cracking. “But if the sword’s shadow doesn’t kill him, it’ll consume his power—his essence—and pass it on to the shadow beings.”

Phillip slammed his fist against the table, causing the lantern to wobble. “Then we have to act fast. How do we stop it?”

Isabella’s gaze hardened as she flipped through the pages. “There’s a cure—a salve made from bloodroot petals and nightfire ash. But it won’t be painless. The infection will fight back.” She snapped the book shut and turned to Phillip. “Stay with me. We’re going to save Felix.”

In the quiet chamber where Felix lay, the air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke rising from his wound. The infection from the shadow blade had spread, tendrils of black veining out from the wound on his back. Worms writhed from the gash, falling to the floor and burning into ash. Felix groaned, his claws digging into the bedding as pain racked his body.

Isabella knelt beside him, a small bowl of glowing liquid in her hands. “This will hurt,” she said softly, looking at Felix’s pale face.

He managed a weak smile. “I’ve endured worse.”

Phillip placed a steadying hand on Felix’s shoulder. “You don’t have to prove anything. Just hold on.”

As Isabella poured the glowing liquid over the wound, Felix let out a deep, guttural scream. Smoke rose, filling the room with a sulfuric stench. The black tendrils seemed to recoil, writhing as if alive.

“I’m sorry, Felix,” Isabella murmured, her voice breaking as she worked quickly. “You have to tolerate it… just a little longer.”

Phillip winced as Felix’s claws dug into his arm, but he held him down firmly. “Focus, Felix. Stay with us.”

The glow from the salve began to dull, and the smoke faded. Felix’s breathing slowed, and the writhing worms stopped spilling from the wound. But his skin was still pale, and the veins of shadow had only partially receded.

“It’s not enough,” Isabella said, standing abruptly. “The infection is too deep. This will only buy us time.”

Phillip followed her as she grabbed a satchel and headed toward the library door. “Where are you going now?”

“To find answers,” Isabella said, her voice determined. “There’s something in the history of the shadow beings that we’re missing.”

The dark library of Back side of the Castle was colder than Isabella had remembered. Shadows flickered on the walls as she combed through the ancient texts. She could feel Phillip’s presence behind her, his eyes sharp and alert.

She found it. A dusty tome bound in cracked leather. The pages crumbled as she opened it, revealing a drawing of a circular, shimmering device.

“The Ascendant,” she murmured. “A dragon-witch invention. It creates a mirror world—a parallel world frozen in one moment of time. That’s where the shadow beings abandoned. But the ascendent, They weren’t destroyed it…and someone unsealed spell on it, only Qetsiyah can do this cuz no ordinary witch can do that spell according to book.”

Phillip leaned over her shoulder, his frown deepening. “what they want? And why taking students what they are gonna do?”

“we will figure it our later but first we have to save Sirela,” Isabella said, her voice rising with urgency. “And Shadow Being is unstoppable. The only way to weaken them is to undo the spell and throw them back to the mirror world.”

“What if the spell will killed you?” Phillip asked.

Isabella stared at the drawing, her mind racing. “Sirela is important this time I can do anything for my friends, anything.”

Phillip hesitated, his hand brushing her arm, as he gonna tells Isabella about Lysandra being compelled by Lucian and his demand . “Isabella… I wanna say..that.”

She turned to him, her silver eyes blazing. I know what are you gonna say, we care about our friends right? And we don't lie." Phillip said "yea...yh..So what we gonna do? We are only 2 cuz felix is wounded and Lysandra is human."

"You are right Phillip, but Sirela needs us. If we don’t stop them now, they’ll come for the rest of us. And there won’t be anything left to fight with, so we gonna get in mirror world take Sirela and undo spell.”

As they stood in the abandoned chamber where the Ascendant lay, Isabella could feel the weight of the ancient spell pressing down on her. The circular blade shimmered faintly in the dim light, covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.

“This machine…” she whispered. “It will take us to the mirror world, but it can trap us in Mecatopia’s past, if we won't come back on tight time. So, we will just go take Sirela and left ASAP.”

Phillip stepped forward, his hand tightening around the hilt of his blade. “Done, I love you, Isabella.” they kisses.

Isabella placed her hands on the machine and began chanting. The room filled with a blinding light, and the hum of ancient magic vibrated in the air. As the portal opened, she looked back at Phillip.

“No matter what happens, we get Sirela out. Agreed?”

Phillip nodded, his crimson eyes fierce. “Agreed.”

The two stepped through, the portal closing behind them with a final, echoing hum. As they emerged on the other side, they found themselves standing in an eerie, frozen version of Mecatopia. The air was heavy, the light dim, and the shadows seemed alive.

Isabella gripped her staff tightly, her heart pounding. “We’re in their world now.”

Phillip drew his blade, his voice low. “Let’s make this quick.”

The mirror world was suffocating, a void of endless darkness that whispered promises of despair. The ground beneath Isabella’s feet felt slick and alive, as if it breathed in tandem with her own shallow breaths. Beside her, Phillip stood tall, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings, his jaw clenched with an intensity that only increased as time passed. They had only thirty minutes in the Ascendant before the mirror world would seal them forever.

“We need to move faster,” Phillip urged, his voice low but firm.

“I know,” Isabella replied, gripping the hilt of her dagger tighter. “Sirela is in here somewhere. We don’t leave without her.”

Ahead of them loomed a labyrinth, ancient and pulsating with grotesque energy. Its walls were made of raw, fleshy material, riddled with veins that glowed faintly red. The air reeked of blood and decay. Each step felt like walking through a living organism, the floor squelching under their boots.

“She better be alive,” Phillip muttered, though his tone was laced with worry.

“She’s alive,” Isabella shot back, her silver-platinum hair catching faint glimmers of light as if defying the oppressive darkness. “I’d feel it if she wasn’t.”

They pressed on, the labyrinth twisting and turning in ways that made no sense. Shadows flickered around them, moving just out of sight. Isabella’s heart pounded in her chest. The air grew heavier, and the labyrinth seemed to pulse with a heartbeat of its own.

“Did you hear that?” Phillip stopped suddenly, his vampire senses picking up on something.

Isabella froze, her dragon tattoo flaring faintly with warmth across her back. “What is it?”

“Footsteps… faint, but they’re not ours.” He turned, his red veiny eyes scanning the darkness behind them. “Keep going. We can’t stop.”

Finally, they found her. Sirela lay motionless on the fleshy ground, her once-glowing form now pale and fragile. Her hair was tangled, her skin cold to the touch.

“Sirela,” Isabella whispered, kneeling beside her and gently shaking her. “Wake up. We’re here.”

Phillip crouched, his expression softening for a moment. “She’s alive… barely. We need to get her out of here.”

Isabella nodded and lifted Sirela into her arms. Her strength faltered for only a second before her dragon blood surged, steadying her. “Let’s go.”

But as they turned, the shadows around them shifted. The labyrinth walls began to quiver, and a low growl echoed through the space.

“We’re not alone,” Phillip hissed, stepping protectively in front of Isabella and Sirela.

From the darkness emerged a massive, formless shadow, its edges rippling as if it were smoke and tar made flesh. Behind it, four figures appeared—masters of the Shadows. Their eyes glowed with unnatural light, their faces obscured by black veils.

“You cannot leave,” the shadow being boomed, its voice shaking the ground. “She belongs to us. The mark is ours.”

Isabella’s tattoo flared again, burning against her skin. She glared at the shadow, defiant. “She belongs to no one. You’ll have to kill me to keep her.”

Phillip bared his fangs, his veiny eyes blazing red. “You’ll regret coming for her.”

The shadow being let out a chilling laugh. “Oh, foolish ones. She may leave, but not without a price.”

Before Isabella could respond, the shadow extended a hand-like tendril, pressing it against Sirela’s chest. Sirela convulsed in Isabella’s arms, vomiting thick black roots and oozing dark liquid. She gasped for air, her body writhing as if something was being pulled from her.

“Stop it, the time going to end!” Isabella screamed, her dragon blood igniting. Her tattoo glowed fiercely, and for a moment, the shadow faltered.

Phillip lunged at one of the masters, his strength and speed unmatched, but the shadow swept him aside like a rag doll. He crashed against the wall but was back on his feet in an instant, snarling.

Isabella’s magic surged, her hand glowing with fiery energy as she forced the shadow back. “You can’t have her!” she roared, her voice echoing with draconic power. The shadow shrieked, its form wavering.

“She lives,” it hissed, retreating into the darkness with the four masters. “But you bring doom upon yourselves. We will meet again.”

The labyrinth trembled, and the pulsating walls began to close in.

“We need to go!” Phillip shouted, grabbing Isabella’s arm.

Holding Sirela tightly, Isabella sprinted for the exit, Phillip at her side. The world around them blurred and twisted, and they barely leapt through the portal in time. They tumbled onto the cold ground of the real world, panting and disoriented.

Sirela lay still, her breaths shallow and labored. Her skin was pale, her body weak, but she was alive. Vomit stained her lips, and dark residue clung to her fingers.

“She’s not okay,” Phillip said, his tone grim. “That thing took something from her.”

Isabella knelt beside Sirela, brushing her hair from her face. Pain flickered in her eyes as she looked at her friend. “She’ll heal. She has to.”

Lysandra rushed over, her face pale with worry. “Is she…?”

“She’s alive,” Isabella said softly. “But she’s not whole.” Her voice cracked slightly, betraying her exhaustion.

Sirela groaned faintly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment. “Isabella…” she whispered before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Isabella clenched her fists, her dragon tattoo burning faintly. “We’ll protect her, no matter what.”

Phillip nodded, standing tall beside her. “And we’ll make that shadow regret ever touching her.”

For now, though, they were safe. But the Ascendant’s shadow had followed them, and darkness loomed closer than ever.

Isabella arrived back and see the ascendant were gone, she saw the window is opened and a dark figure flying high above the sky, she felt they take the shadow being with us.