As the crowd grows louder, a charged tension fills the air, like an electric storm gathering over Mecatopia. The students’ excitement is almost tangible, thrumming through the room, eager for the first performance to begin. The moment is charged, and as the esteemed Professor steps onto the podium, a hush falls over the audience. With a slow, deliberate nod, he announces, “It’s time to begin our night.”

He presses play on the enchanted crystal, filling the hall with the enchanting melody of “Lover.” Slowly, the students take their positions on the stage, each couple facing each other, yet all eyes naturally gravitate toward Isabella and Felix, whose energy is palpable.

As they lock eyes, Isabella’s aura shimmers into a warm, fiery orange, glowing like embers, while Felix’s glows a cool, ethereal silver, resembling the mystical light of the moon. The contrast between them is magnetic, a perfect harmony of fire and moonlight. They begin their steps toward each other, every movement fluid, their gazes intense and unwavering.

When they meet at the center of the stage, Isabella reaches out, and Felix’s hand clasps hers in a gentle but firm hold. The instant they touch, a burst of energy erupts, casting them in a vortex of blazing fire and silvery light. This unique magic—the merging of her dragon flame and his lunar shadow—creates an otherworldly spectacle, with sparks and wisps that swirl around them like a dance of stars.

On the sidelines, Phillip watches with clenched fists, feeling a pang of hurt as he observes Isabella sharing this energy with someone else. He slams his fist into a nearby wall, and Isabella, sensing his turmoil, glances at him with a look of apology, silently communicating, “This is only for the performance; my heart is yours.”

Around them, other pairs dance, but none match the intensity of Isabella and Felix. Aurora and Andrew avoid eye contact, their steps stiff and reluctant, as if bound by obligation rather than passion. In contrast, Lysandra and Edward are lost in each other, stealing glances and blushing, their innocent affection adding a sweet, tender moment to the evening.

Returning to the center of the stage, Isabella and Felix synchronize their steps into a mesmerizing pattern, spinning in perfect harmony. As they move, their magic pulses outward in circles—Isabella releasing a wave of fiery energy while Felix responds with a ring of moonlight. The two rings clash and merge above the stage, filling the hall with a dazzling display that leaves the human students cheering and chanting their names.

As the music reaches its climax, Isabella and Felix move into a graceful lift, with Felix raising Isabella effortlessly above his head. At that moment, their combined energies form a radiant sun and moon around them, casting a beautiful halo that symbolizes the balance of their powers. Phillip, unable to bear the sight any longer, storms off, consumed by jealousy and hurt.

Isabella’s heart twists, watching Phillip leave, but she has to finish the dance. With a final, elegant move, she and Felix end the performance, standing hand-in-hand, their magical auras fading like dying embers, leaving behind an imprint of their unity.

The crowd erupts, students chanting their names, enthralled by the display of magic and mastery. Professor steps onto the podium once more, “And that concludes our dance! Thank you all for being here tonight. Tomorrow, prepare your questions for our ‘Miss Supreme Mystic.’ Goodnight, everyone!”

As the event ends, Isabella dashes into the night, desperately searching for Phillip. She weaves through the castle corridors and empty streets, rain beginning to pour down as if reflecting her urgency. Her dress clings to her as she runs, soaked but undeterred, until she reaches the waterfall—their secret meeting place. There, she finds Phillip, standing alone, drenched and tense, a swirl of emotions playing across his face.

For a moment, they stand in silence, the sound of rain and the rushing waterfall filling the space between them. Isabella steps closer, her expression tender and vulnerable, breaking the silence with a gentle, understanding voice,

I know you feel lost, Phillip… but I’m here, now, and with you, I don’t have to be found.”

Phillip’s expression softens, her words seeping into his heart, easing his jealousy and frustration. Slowly, she extends her hand, and though he hesitates, he takes it, a warmth spreading through him as their fingers intertwine. In that moment, they both feel a bond deeper than any dance, a connection that even words fail to express.

Then, as if on cue, the soft notes of “Love Me Like You Do” begin to play, their song filling the rain-soaked air. Isabella pulls Phillip close, her hands resting gently on his shoulders as they begin to sway in unison, letting the melody guide them.

“You’re the light, you’re the night, you’re the color of my blood…”

She spins gracefully, Phillip twirling her under his arm, never once breaking eye contact. Each movement is slow, full of unspoken emotion, every glance filled with trust and affection. The rain continues to pour, yet it only heightens the intimacy of their moment, cloaking them in a world of their own.

“Touch me like you do… ta-ta-touch me like you do…”

Phillip’s hand brushes a strand of wet hair from Isabella’s face, his touch lingering, as if to memorize every detail of her in this fleeting, rain-drenched moment. He lifts her into a gentle spin, her feet barely touching the ground, their laughter mingling with the rain.

“Only you can set my heart on fire…”

As the song swells, Isabella guides Phillip’s hand to her heart, letting him feel its steady rhythm. She then wraps her arms around him, pulling him close, resting her head on his shoulder as they continue to sway, lost in each other’s presence.

When she finally looks up, their faces are mere inches apart, the world around them fading away, leaving only the rain and the warmth between them. With a silent understanding, they close the distance, sharing a kiss filled with passion, healing, and promise. This is no ordinary kiss; it’s a vow, a spark that ignites both of them from within, filling their souls with light.

As the final notes of the song play, Phillip dips Isabella, holding her steady as she smiles up at him, her trust shining in her eyes. He brings her back up, and they stand there, breathless, drenched, yet completely at peace.

Without another word, they wrap their arms around each other, standing under the cascading rain, content in the simple, quiet knowledge that they are finally together. Suddenly her eyes turn to white, wholly white like they were when helena control her for cutting her hand. She start flying over, she is lost in a vision she seeing a place far removed from anything she'd known. Shadows gathered around her, flickering like restless spirits, but soon they melted away, revealing a sky choked with thick, gray clouds. Flames licked at the horizon, and she felt the acrid taste of smoke on her tongue.

Ahead, an enormous figure dominated the skies, its very presence forcing the air from her lungs. Vorthak. The Titan of Destruction.

The green-scaled dragon beneath him twisted in mid-flight, each beat of its massive wings sending shockwaves through the air. Vorthak's terrifying form loomed on its back, his armor a reflection of the darkest nightmares, his eyes like smoldering pits of hate and hunger. Every movement he made seemed to radiate power, a monstrous, unstoppable force. As Vorthak stretched his hand downward, an invisible hand seemed to squeeze Mecatopia, wringing the land dry of life.

Isabella watched in frozen horror as the dragon unleashed torrents of green flame. Buildings crumbled as fire engulfed them, entire cities disappearing into the inferno. The air reverberated with the sounds of screaming and collapsing structures, and the very earth beneath her feet trembled. Mountains fractured, cracks stretching like veins, and volcanic eruptions pierced the sky with molten rage, scarring the land beyond recognition.

Through the dust and destruction, she could feel Vorthak's energy pulsing, pure chaos, drawn from an ancient, limitless power. With each roar of the green dragon, she felt his destructive intent break through the magical wards and protections that had safeguarded Mecatopia for centuries. Those barriers that had once been mighty, indestructible, now seemed fragile, crumbling as if they were paper before a flame.

Just as the vision seemed unbearable, a force yanked her into another scene. She barely had a moment to breathe as the world shifted, darkness closing in around her, filling her with a sense of foreboding she couldn't shake. This time, the silence was eerie, weighted by a coldness that seemed to seep into her very bones. She found herself standing on the edge of an ominous ritual site, encircled by jagged stones and glowing symbols carved deep into the ground.

At the center, Helena stood, her hands raised high as she chanted words Isabella could barely comprehend, each syllable laced with dark power. The air around Helena shimmered with malice, her eyes glowing a wicked, unnatural shade that sent a chill through Isabella's heart.

In Helena's grasp was a twisted, obsidian dagger, its blade crackling with dark energy, almost as though it was alive. Helena's voice grew louder, each incantation spilling with venomous intent.

"Umbra Aeternum, evanesce et iterum exsurge, Nerthys, terror nocturnus."

The Moon Stone shining bright in the balck water lack of the shadow region. The very ground beneath her feet pulsed in response, resonating with an energy that felt ancient and forbidden. Shadows stretched and writhed around her, drawn to her words like moths to a flame, as if feeding on the darkness she summoned.

Isabella wanted to move, to call out to Helena, to stop whatever horror she was about to unleash. But her body felt anchored, frozen in place, as if an invisible force was holding her back.

As Helena chants the spell, "Umbra Aeternum, evanesce et iterum exsurge, Nerthys, terror nocturnus," the ground begins to tremble, sending ripples across the lake's surface. A low rumble resonates, growing louder, until the entire area shakes with a force that seems to echo from the depths of the Shadowrealm itself.

The black water in the lake starts to twist and spiral, forming a vortex that rises into the sky, creating a colossal tornado of liquid darkness. Lightning crackles through the inky whirlpool, illuminating its vast scale and hinting at something monstrous within.

From within the swirling darkness emerges the figure of Nerthys, Titan of Shadows. Shadows coalesce into a massive, towering entity, his form constantly shifting, lacking any solid outline except for two piercing white eyes. These eyes stare down, cold and merciless, seeming to cut through Isabella and into her very soul. They are eyes devoid of warmth, holding only the promise of terror and eternal night.

But something went wrong. Helena's expression twisted into shock as the ritual spiraled out of control, the energy overwhelming her. The souls, too many to contain, began tearing at her, frantically clawing to escape their bonds. Her scream of agony echoed through the void, her strength faltering under the immense power she had dared to control.

Isabella, feeling a spark of resolve in the face of Helena's suffering, summoned all her willpower. The spell holding her in place shattered, and she leaped forward, reaching out to Helena, her hand grazing her friend's shoulder just as the vision fractured once more.

In a final, overwhelming flash, Isabella found herself in her room. Jenna looking at her. Meanwhile, Lysandra opens the door, her body turning to balck and she is breathing very fast. She said "THE TITANS" and felldown on the floor.