As the first sliver of sunlight peeked through the blinds, the triplets stirred, another school day looming ahead. Yet, a palpable tension hung in the air, a shadow cast by Yosef's conviction that their seemingly normal lives were about to change irrevocably.

They moved through their morning ritual with practiced efficiency—toast buttered, backpacks filled, whispers exchanged in their secret language. Each action held comfort, yet new alertness tinged their movements. The school hallway, once familiar, felt transformed, each corner becoming a potential battleground. Their eyes darted, searching for signs of something amiss in Ed Sylvester's gaze.

Emily, unable to resist a jab, teased, "Planting a bomb on the second day, boys? Setting a new record?"

Their curt reply—"Shut up, Emily"—broke the usual banter, unsettling her. Just then, Ed shuffled in, his hunched back and downcast eyes masking a deeper darkness that only Yosef sensed. A flicker of hatred sparked in his eyes as Ed met his gaze, a chilling smile spreading across his face, dark tendrils swirling around him.

Without hesitation, Yosef lunged. "Get him!" he roared, his urgency palpable. Ryan and Isaac mirrored his instincts, fists clenched and senses heightened.

The chase erupted through the crowded hallways, the trio barreling past confused students. For them, it was a desperate race against time, while bystanders merely witnessed chaos unfolding.

Ed slammed the bathroom door shut, dragging Yosef inside. As stale air thickened with anticipation, a horrifying crackle echoed—Ed's body began to writhe, bones shifting and flesh rippling. In moments, the hunched teenager transformed into a towering figure, clad in black with a menacing hood obscuring his face.

Ryan and Isaac burst in, with Emily trailing behind. Their eyes widened at the sight of Ed's true form. Before they could react, a shimmering wall of dark energy materialized, blocking their exit.

Panic surged in Ryan's chest. As he reached for the barrier, nightmarish visions flooded his mind. "This... this is witchcraft!" he stammered.

Isaac remained calm but awestruck, while Emily stood speechless, her bravado shaken.

Across the barrier, the cloaked figure chuckled, his voice gravelly and ancient. "I sense the power within you, Yosef. The essence of the Ru'akatha resides deep within."

Yosef grinned, unfazed. "Yeah, that's why I'm the best!" His right eye gleamed with ethereal energy.

The figure's laughter twisted into a snarl. "Do not underestimate me! I am the Vengeful One, herald of the Dark Emperor, who shall rise again!"

"What are you being so cheesy over?" Yosef retorted, his confidence unwavering. "You don't have to speak like that to be a scary villain."

Suddenly, the Vengeful One conjured a serpent of darkness, launching it at Yosef. He leaped back, raising his left arm to manifest a blurple magic circle that crushed the serpent instantly.

"First time I see umbrakinesis in action," Yosef remarked, unperturbed. "Thought it'd be better than whatever this is."

At that moment, their malevolent aura multiplied, becoming a discernible crimson as their left eye twitched with the same color. "Bear witness to my true power - I, the Vengeful One! Will reawaken the Dark Emperor!"

"You'll have to get through me first!" Yosef declared, ensnaring the Vengeful One in the floor beneath him, only for him to break free, dashing at him like a ghost.

Yosef attempted to throw a punch, only for the Vengeful One to teleport behind him, disappearing in a thick black smog. Materializing a blade formed from negativity, he struck at Yosef's chest, yet the boy remained unfazed, not even flinching as the trio outside heard the sickening sound of squelching flesh, their minds conjuring horrific images of the scene unfolding within.

"Heh," Yosef taunted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fell for the bait."

The Vengeful One, sensing something amiss, glanced behind him just as a pre-charged energy orb shot toward his face. The orb collided with a blinding burst, illuminating the bathroom in a searing flash. Seizing the moment of distraction, Yosef swiftly broke the shadow blade, driving its tip into the Vengeful One's neck as he leaped back, gritting his teeth in determination.

"YOU BRAT!" the Vengeful One bellowed, his voice reverberating through the walls of the bathroom as he charged at Yosef again.

"You never learn," Yosef sighed, sidestepping the oncoming attack. He grabbed the Vengeful One by the neck, ramming him headfirst into the toilet bowl as he sat on his back. "Next time, diversify your tactics a little."

The impact echoed in the cramped space, water splashing as the Vengeful One thrashed, trying to shake Yosef off. But the boy's grip was unyielding. Summoning his psychokinetic energy, he infused it with a concentrated force, amplifying his hold.

"You think this will stop me?" the Vengeful One snarled, his eyes glinting with rage and defiance as shadows writhed around him, ready to envelop the bathroom in darkness.

"No," Yosef replied, "but it's a good start." With a surge of power, he slammed the Vengeful One's head back into the porcelain, the echo of impact reverberating ominously.

The Vengeful One, his ego shattered by being bested by a mere 14-year-old, teleported his arm in front of Yosef, delivering a devastating punch to his stomach that knocked the wind out of him. Wet with the remnants of the previous altercation, the Vengeful One finally broke free from Yosef's hold.

Manifesting an array of shadowy arms and constructs, he ensnared Yosef, holding him in place as he rained blows upon the boy, each strike landing with bone-crunching force. The bathroom echoed with the sounds of combat, a brutal symphony of violence and despair.

Surprisingly, Yosef showed zero signs of resistance as the relentless assault continued. His strength waned, each punch draining his energy until he could barely keep his head up.

"It's a waste if I allow you to have the luxury of death just now," the Vengeful One thought to himself, a twisted grin forming beneath his hood. He lifted the barrier separating them from the outside world, allowing a flicker of light to spill into the darkness of the bathroom.

With a final, punishing blow, he let Yosef crawl out toward his siblings and Emily. The boy dragged himself through the doorway, his body battered and bruised, struggling to breathe.

Yosef desperately tried to reach out with his left arm, but he faltered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A pool of his own blood began to form around his body, dark and crimson, soaking into the floor.

Ryan and Isaac's eyes widened in terror as the horrifying reality sank in—Yosef had died before their eyes. They stood frozen, bodies trembling, grappling with the enormity of their brother's fate.

The figure materialized beside the Vengeful One, cloaked in the same black mist, his crimson eyes glowing beneath the hood.

"Father," he rasped, his tone reverent yet hungry for approval, "how may I serve you?"

"Take care of these maggots," the Vengeful One ordered, glancing at the terrified trio. "I've got more important business." Without another word, he vanished in a swirl of darkness.

"Now that," Emily muttered, "is one messed-up family dynamic. Can't this day seriously get any weirder?"

Ryan, his disbelief and shock morphing into an indifference, and eventually rage, walked forward. "Get back," he commanded to them.

"Are you mad!?" Emily exclaimed, "You're gonna get killed too!"

"Does it really matter now?" Ryan countered, "Also since when do you care for me?"

Emily, now cornered, blushed furiously, "s-shut up... it's not like that... idiot..."

As the son readied an energy orb to end it all, one of the other students, having awakened some of their magical powers, summoned a searing beam of light, descending right onto his back, knocking him off his feet.

The son of the Vengeful One staggered forward, hissing in pain as the light seared through his dark armor, smoke rising from the wound. His crimson eyes flared with fury, swirling shadows around him as he turned to face the source of the attack.

A figure emerged from the crowd—a student, trembling yet determined, their hands still aglow with the remnants of the spell. The light flickered uncertainly, as if the magic was as new to them as the fear gripping their heart.

"You dare?" the son snarled, his voice dripping with venom. He replied with a beam of his own, vaporizing the student at that instant.

Another student, this time with a more confident look, shouted, "Special Technique: Paper Planes!" As he raised his hand, thousands of miniature plans materialized to life, descending and detonating across the son's form with their various payloads, managing to damage some armor plates.

The son of the Vengeful One staggered back, snarling as the thousands of explosive paper planes swarmed him. Each miniature papercraft burst on impact—some with concussive force, others with bursts of fire or crackling arcs of electricity—chipping away at his armor and exposing the dark flesh beneath.

Despite this, the son managed to raise a holographic shield in time, shimmering with a dark red glow as he rammed into the student, shattering his rib cage before brutally finishing him off. Another student, that was hanging atop one of the bathroom doors, descending attaching a magical construct to his neck before leaping away in the nick of time.

As it detonated, the son staggered back again, this time blood descending from the back of his neck as flesh and bone were exposed. Nonetheless, the son's bloodlust surged, his crimson eyes glowing with unholy fury. The dark claws he summoned tore through the air like a blur, rending the second student before they even hit the ground. Blood splattered across the cracked bathroom tiles, and the student crumpled lifelessly at the son's feet.

Yosef stood in the shattered doorway, swaying slightly, his posture loose and unsettling, as if he was both in control and teetering on the edge of collapse. Blood streaked down his face in jagged lines, mixing with dirt and sweat, giving him the look of someone who had crawled out of hell and enjoyed every second of it. His emerald eyes gleamed unnaturally bright, almost feverish, with a manic light that danced between mischief and madness.

A crooked grin stretched across his face—too wide, too casual—like someone sharing an inside joke only he found amusing. His bloodied fingers twitched at his sides, as if itching to grab hold of something, anything, and twist it apart. When he spoke, his tone dripped with playful malice, laced with a chilling undercurrent, as if violence was a mere pastime.

"Hiya," he repeated, his voice low and sing-song, each syllable oozing a kind of deranged delight.

There was a wildness in his gaze—a predator's glee mixed with the unhinged confidence of someone who felt invincible. The crimson stains on his shirt and skin weren't just battle scars; they were trophies, reminders of how far he was willing to go. It was the look of someone who had not only stared into the abyss but welcomed it with open arms.

The son's eyes narrowed in confusion and frustration. "Yeah... weren't you a dead body an instant ago?" he growled, inching closer, fists clenched.

Yosef's grin stretched wider, his expression twisting into something grotesque. "WRONG!" he roared, his voice rising in pitch as uncontrollable laughter bubbled from his throat. He leaned forward, eyes blazing with lunacy. "I NEVER WAS DEAD TO BEGIN WITH! I JUST REMEMBERED—" he cackled, gasping between fits of laughter, "I CAN REGENERATE MYSELF!"

He threw his head back, the unhinged laughter filling the room like the sound of broken glass grinding underfoot. "YOU CAN'T KILL THE DEAD!" he shrieked, the hysterical laughter becoming louder and more deranged with each breath. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The son instinctively took a step back, unnerved by the sight—this wasn't just a boy standing before him, but something else entirely, a force of sheer chaos in human form.

Yosef twirled on the spot, his blood-stained clothes clinging to him as he spun in a bizarre, almost theatrical dance. He moved with erratic energy—arms flailing, feet stomping, and hips jerking like a marionette on broken strings. His laughter echoed wildly, a chilling melody of glee and madness.

"Ah!" he gasped, throwing his hands skyward as if addressing an unseen audience, "I found it — the meaning of it all! Worship!" He pirouetted like a ballet dancer, eyes gleaming with deranged clarity. "Work honestly! Protect the weak! Be a good and just man!"

Emily looked at him dumbfounded. "Is he always like this?" She inquired.

"Nah," Isaac denied, "he just forgot to drink his morning mint tea."

His voice dropped into a whisper, as though sharing a secret with the universe. "That's it. That's all there is. The rest?" His expression twisted into a grin too wide, too toothy, almost predatory. "The rest is just... meaningless noise."

He dropped into a low crouch, rocking on his heels, hands clutching his head as he giggled uncontrollably. Then he leaped back to his feet, skipping in wild circles like a child in a playground. "Everything—" he said, spreading his arms, "everything returns to worship—the Absolute Truth! And those who refuse, those who stand in the way—" He stopped mid-dance, his face darkening, eyes narrowing with pure malice.

With a slow, deliberate pivot, he pointed a finger toward the son, his smile never faltering. "They need to be... eliminated. Like you."

He dragged the word out like it was a sweet indulgence, his voice dipping low and menacing. Then, just as quickly, he burst into another frenzied jig, giggling to himself as if nothing he'd said was out of the ordinary. "Gone, gone, gone!" he sang, stomping his feet to an invisible beat, spinning wildly, eyes gleaming with the fevered light of a madman in a mental asylum.

"I'm the heavenly one! I've achieved heaven!" Yosef roared, his laughter peaking into a feverish crescendo, eyes—deep celestial blue, almost blurple—blazing with divine insanity.

Fed up with the chaotic display, the son hurled a wicked blade, tethered by a hook and pulsing with malevolent energy. It sliced through the air like a viper striking, but Yosef swayed effortlessly to the side, dodging it without so much as a glance.

"You're damned!" Yosef bellowed, arms outstretched like a prophet on the edge of revelation. "Don't you see? It's not the eyes that are blind..." He paused, grinning like the universe had shared a private joke only with him. "...but the hearts!"

A shadowy tendril erupted from the ground, aiming straight for Yosef's abdomen. But just before it could strike, Yosef's body surged with energy.

"Chronos Lock; Override," he intoned, crossing his fingers as a glowing magic circle flickered to life around his left eye. His gaze ignited with an otherworldly blurple light, and in an instant, a shimmering orb manifested mid-air, obliterating the tendril on contact.

Yosef's burning stare locked onto the son, and the weight of his aura crashed down like a divine storm, piercing through to his very soul. In that moment, the son felt it—this wasn't a fight. This was fate, cold and merciless, unfolding its cruel design with the promise of absolute annihilation.

"Soulspace Projection: Angelic Wrath!" Yosef roared, as a radiant blurple sphere exploded outward, consuming both him and the son in its ethereal glow.

Within the flickering otherworldly expanse, shadows twisted and light bent unnaturally, as if reality itself recoiled from the power unleashed. White sparks danced, accompanied by shimmering flows of blurple energy.

Yosef's grin stretched wide, his deep, celestial eyes gleaming with fevered madness. "Wanna see your death?" he whispered, voice dripping with eerie delight, his stare boring into the son's soul like a cruel promise of things to come.

The son, driven by frustration and desperation, hurled a crackling energy orb with all his might—but instead of striking its target, the orb shot forward endlessly, vanishing into the void beyond sight.

"W-what is this!?" he shouted, panic lacing his voice as his body quaked with fear.

Then, it hit him—a vision. In his mind's eye, he saw a terrifying singularity swallow his head whole, leaving his lifeless body to crumple like a broken puppet.

The son's knees buckled, his strength drained as the weight of impending doom pressed down on him. He collapsed to the ground, scarred—both in body and soul—utterly defeated.

"Graham's number," Yosef began, his voice laced with a manic glee, "wanna see it in your mind?"

In that instant, the son felt an overwhelming force as Yosef seemingly cracked open his skull with effortless ease, exposing the fragile mass of his brain to the air. The world around them faded, leaving only the chilling reality of Yosef's twisted power.

"You know," Yosef continued, his voice dripping with madness, "it's so immense that not even the universe can contain all of its digits. But here's the kicker—it's divisible by 3! And the last thirteen digits are 7262464195387! Can you even believe that!?—impossibly big yet finite in the end!"

The son writhed in excruciating pain, his features twisted in horror as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. The sheer magnitude of Graham's number bore down on him, each digit feeling like a weight crushing his mind, ripping apart the very fabric of his sanity.

"Feeling that?" Yosef taunted, a gleeful edge to his voice. "It's so enormous that your mind will collapse into a black hole if you even attempt to picture it! Can you feel your thoughts twisting and tearing apart?"

With a sudden burst of energy, Yosef grasped the son by his face, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. "Let me help you with that," he sneered, watching with morbid fascination as the exposed brain began to buckle under the pressure of the incomprehensible concept.

In a final, horrific moment, the son's mind succumbed to the weight of infinite numbers. His brain imploded, collapsing into a singularity, and with a sickening squelch, his head was consumed in an instant. The life drained from his eyes, leaving only the echoes of Yosef's manic laughter to fill the void.

As the warped space collapsed back into the confines of the bathroom, the son's lifeless body slumped to the ground, a macabre testament to the chaos that had just unfolded. Yosef stood amidst the wreckage, laughing maniacally, the sound reverberating off the walls like a twisted melody.

In an instant, he conjured a cup of Moroccan mint tea from thin air, the fragrant steam swirling up towards the ceiling. He raised it to his lips and drank deeply, savoring the soothing warmth. With a satisfied sigh, he tossed the empty cup away, its shattered fragments reflecting the madness he had just unleashed.

As the echoes of laughter faded, a subtle shift took place within him. The frenetic energy subsided, and he appeared to regain his composure, the manic gleam in his deep celestial blue eyes settling into a more cryptic and enigmatic demeanor. With a flick of his wrist, he wiped away the remnants of chaos, his smile now tinged with an unsettling calmness, as if the storm had passed, leaving only the remnants of a shattered reality behind.

As all these events unfolded, the Vengeful One was in the school basement, having summoned a mysterious device, manifesting itself as four elongated claws from the ground, with crimson veins that reeked of malevolence and chaos At its center was a pillar, shorter than the others.

"At last," the Vengeful One rasped, a sinister satisfaction dripping from his words as he brandished an artifact pulsating with a dark, malevolent energy. He placed it atop the ancient pillar with an unsettling reverence, sending a tremor through the air, thick with foreboding.

Suddenly, a beacon of light exploded from the structure—an eldritch spectacle that ripped through the ceiling like a scream through silence. A sickly crimson radiance surged skyward, slicing through the oppressive darkness and illuminating the surrounding space. This haunting glow contrasted sharply with the inky blackness that engulfed it, creating a nightmarish vision as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling at the seams.

As the portal expanded, grotesque monstrosities poured forth, each adorned with writhing tendrils that twisted like living vines. The smaller, cat-sized horrors exhibited multiple eyes, glistening with predatory hunger and arranged at erratic angles across their distorted faces, while their mouths revealed rows of needle-like teeth dripping with viscous, dark fluid.

Larger serpentine creatures slithered along the ground, covered in slimy tendrils that flicked about like whips, with multiple orifices capable of emitting hissing sounds. The bipedal humanoid figures were the most disturbing, sporting uneven limbs and grotesquely asymmetrical bodies. Their faces displayed a horrifying collage of features—multiple mouths cackled in unison, while beady eyes blinked erratically. Together, these abominations created a cacophony of hisses, cackles, and guttural growls, forging a living nightmare that served as a terrifying reminder of the eldritch malevolence unleashed upon the school.

Even the basement and the school's structural rods began to shift and contort, sending violent shockwaves reverberating through the very foundation of the building. Walls twisted and buckled as if they were alive, groaning under the weight of an unseen force. The air grew thick with a malevolent energy that crackled with anticipation. Once mundane and dusty, the basement transformed into a vast, pulsating labyrinth of stone and shadow.

Obelisks of dark, obsidian-like material rose from the floor, their surfaces shimmering with crimson veins that pulsed like a beating heart. These towering structures loomed ominously, casting elongated shadows that danced grotesquely across the warped ground. Each obelisk appeared to be etched with eldritch symbols, glowing faintly in the dim light, hinting at the ancient powers that had been awakened. The labyrinthine corridors twisted in on themselves, leading deeper into darkness, filled with an unsettling whispering that echoed through the air, as if the very walls were conspiring to trap those unfortunate enough to wander within. It was no longer just a basement; it had become a nightmarish realm, a sanctuary for the horrors that had been unleashed.

Back in the bathroom, a shiver ran down Yosef's spine as he sensed the impending arrival of the monoliths, their dark energy seeping through the walls and floors like an insidious fog. He could hear the panicked screams of students and teachers echoing in the hallways, swallowed by the malevolence that consumed the school. The walls trembled as the eldritch structures descended, claiming the unfortunate souls caught in their path.

"Quick!" Yosef shouted, his voice slicing through the pandemonium, "We need to get out of here!"

Just as they sprang into action, a colossal force erupted from the bathroom walls, sending them crashing to the ground.

"I CAN SEE YOU THROUGH WALLS!" the Vengeful One roared, his voice reverberating like thunder, shaking the very foundation around them. His piercing glare seemed to bore into their souls, framed by swirling black smog and crackling crimson lightning, his malevolent aura briefly overshadowing Yosef's.

But the terrifying spectacle shifted in an instant. The Vengeful One's fury morphed into shock and horror as he laid eyes on the headless corpse of his son.

"What?" he gasped, sorrow twisting his features as he cradled his lifeless child. "You will pay for..."

Seizing the moment, Yosef gestured urgently for the others to flee while the Vengeful One remained lost in grief. Unable to resist a jab, he smirked and called out, "Womp womp!" before vanishing into the twisting corridors, leaving chaos in his wake.