The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow over the sleeping school grounds. But inside the common room, Isabella and her friends sat wide awake, a tension hanging heavy in the air. A single candle flickered on the wooden table as they huddled close, speaking in hushed whispers.

Phillip leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to figure out who's behind these kidnappings. Too many students are gone, and we're running out of time."

"I've been having nightmares," Isabella confessed, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table. "About the ancient portal... and the crown. I can't shake the feeling it's all connected somehow."

Felix folded his arms. "Let's stick to what we know. Students are being taken at night, no signs of a struggle. It has to be someone within the school."

Sirela, always observant, spoke up. "I've noticed Arathor and his group acting strange. They're always lurking around when something bad happens."

Isabella's eyes sharpened. "You're right. Ever since Arathor arrived, this chaos began. He has to be involved."

Aurora nodded in agreement. "We should keep an eye on them tonight. If they're behind this, they'll slip up eventually."

The group finalized their plan, dividing into pairs to monitor the hallways. By the time the clock struck 4 a.m., the school was eerily quiet. Even the usual creaks of the old building seemed to have stilled.

Hidden in the shadows, Isabella and Phillip spotted movement. A dark group of figures Arathor and his followers crept toward the dormitories.

Phillip's eyes narrowed. "They're heading for the witches' dormitory."

"Let's follow them," Isabella whispered.

The two trailed silently behind, careful not to be noticed. They watched as Arathor and his group entered the dormitories, then reappeared moments later carrying unconscious students.

"Why are they taking them?" Isabella whispered.

"Let's find out," Phillip replied.

Isabella's group regrouped briefly but found the teachers unresponsive, as if under a spell. Frustrated yet determined, they resumed their pursuit, following Arathor and his companions to the school's main grounds.

Once there, they split up to follow the three groups. Isabella and Phillip tracked Arathor, who carried witches to a circle of fire. From the shadows, they watched as the witches were placed inside.

Suddenly, two more figures emerged Valtor, the shadowborn, and Seraphina, the alchemist witch.

Phillip's voice was a tense whisper. "This is bigger than Arathor. Look there's Seraphina."

The original witch raised her arms, her voice echoing with a spell in a dark, ancient tongue:

"Vernathis ehn karathar, solvenith dra'kyrn!
Elloriah, makveth noryn, sacryeth shaer!"

As the words left her lips, the fiery circles around the students intensified. The captured witches, fairies, and other supernaturals began to levitate, their eyes glowing an unnatural white.

"What's happening?" Isabella whispered, clutching Phillip's arm.

Phillip shook his head. "I don't know, but it's not good."

The ground trembled beneath their feet as Seraphina continued her chant. The fiery circles merged, creating streams of energy that flowed toward the center. The streams combined into one, dry and barren, snaking toward the school.

"That... that's heading for the school," Aurora said, her voice trembling.

Nearby, Arathor's group watched, speaking in hushed tones. One word reached Isabella's ears, chilling her to the bone.

"Helena," one of them said. "The Queen of Eclipse will rise."

Isabella's heart pounded. She turned to Phillip. "We need to stop this. Now."

But before they could act, the ritual reached its peak. Qetsiyah twist her fingers and the head of supernatural rip out from their body. Their body fell down. Phillip closed Isabella's eyes with his hands. The blood starts filling the empty stream and its going direct to academy. On the portal. The energy from the fiery streams erupted into the sky, casting a red glow over the school. Isabella clenched her fists, determination burning in her eyes.

"This isn't over," she vowed.

The air crackled with dark energy as Isabella and her group approached. The faint, glowing streams of supernatural blood flowed into a circular pool at the altar's base, feeding the ominous portal that shimmered with unnatural light purple.

Arathor stood at the center, his arms raised in a chant. The Ancient Coven of Masters flanked him, their expressions resolute and cold. Helena's laughter echoed faintly through the air, sending a chill down Isabella's spine.

Isabella stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension.
"Stop this madness! You're unleashing something even you can't control!"

Arathor turned, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Oh, little witch. Helena is the salvation this world needs. Step aside, little witch, or perish with your foolish ideals."

Isabella's heart pounded, but she held her ground. "Salvation? By ripping apart the fabric of this world? You're nothing but her pawn!"

Without warning, Morgathus, the Original Witch, stepped forward, her icy gaze locking on Isabella. "You have no idea the power you stand against, child."

Morgathus hurled a wave of crackling black energy. Isabella barely had time to counter, summoning a golden barrier that shimmered with dragon runes. The force of the attack pushed her back, her heels skidding against the stone floor.

"Stay sharp!" Phillip shouted, leaping into action as Valtor, the Shadowborn, lunged toward him. The vampire's glowing red eyes met Valtor's shadowed ones. Valtor's hands morphed into dark, blade-like appendages, slicing through the air with lethal precision.

"I'll show you shadows, boy," Valtor sneered.

Phillip ducked, spinning to land a powerful kick to Valtor's chest. "You'll regret underestimating me," he growled, fangs flashing as he charged forward.

To the side, Sirela squared off against Circea, Mistress of Frost. The air around them dropped sharply, frost creeping along the stones. Circea smirked, conjuring a barrage of ice shards.

"Let's see how a siren handles the cold," Circea taunted.

Sirela's voice rang out, melodic and haunting. The air vibrated as her siren song disrupted Circea's magic, shattering the shards mid-air. "I've handled worse," Sirela shot back, launching herself into the fray with liquid grace.

At the altar, Felix faced Arathor. The Mind Manipulator's voice slithered into Felix's mind like poison.

"Why fight, wolf? Surrender to the inevitable. You can't save them all."

Felix snarled, shaking off the invasive whispers. "Get out of my head!" He lunged, claws extended, forcing Arathor to retreat momentarily.

Meanwhile, Aurora engaged Seraphina, the Alchemist Witch. Seraphina hurled vials of shimmering liquid, each exploding into bursts of flame, acid, or smoke. Aurora darted through the chaos, her light magic weaving shields to block the attacks.

"Your tricks won't work on me," Aurora declared, firing a beam of searing light.

Seraphina barely dodged, her lips curling into a smirk. "We'll see about that."

Isabella clashed with Morgathus, their magic colliding in dazzling bursts. "You're outmatched!" Morgathus sneered, summoning tendrils of shadow to ensnare Isabella.

But Isabella's eyes glowed with fiery determination. She unleashed a burst of dragon fire, incinerating the shadows. "I'm not outmatched. I'm just getting started."

Nearby, Phillip and Valtor's fight grew more feral, each strike faster than the last. Sirela's voice grew louder, resonating with power as she forced Circea to her knees. Felix roared, finally breaking through Arathor's defenses and forcing the manipulator to focus on dodging instead of attacking.

At the altar, the portal pulsed, its glow intensifying.

"Isabella!" Aurora shouted. "The portal's getting stronger!"

Isabella turned, her heart sinking as the blood pool began to bubble. Helena's laughter grew louder, echoing across the battlefield.

"This isn't over," Isabella muttered, her hands glowing with dragon fire. She raised them toward the portal.

"Together!" she called to her group. The group looking at her that how powerful she is.

One by one, they rallied, focusing their energies to counteract the portal's pull. But the Coven wasn't done yet. Morgathus, bloodied but unbroken, began chanting in an ancient tongue.

"Not if I can help it," Isabella growled, charging toward the altar.

The air crackled with tension as Isabella stood firm, flames flickering around her hands. Morgathus sneered, his form shimmering with power.

"You think you can stop me, little newly dragon witch?" Morgathus mocked, summoning swirling orbs of fire and water.

Isabella gritted her teeth. "This ends now, Morgathus." She extended her hands, and fiery chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around him.

Morgathus roared, his voice like thunder. The chains shattered as he unleashed a storm, fire and water colliding in chaotic waves. Isabella was thrown back but steadied herself, her eyes blazing with determination.

"You won't win!" she shouted, channeling her dragon-enhanced magic. A massive torrent of flames surged forward, forcing Morgathus to step back.

But Morgathus smirked and whispered, "Soul Binding." Spirits of fallen warriors rose around Isabella, clawing at her with ghostly hands.

Isabella gasped, her strength waning. She fell to her knees but whispered an incantation in draconian tongue. A glowing sigil formed beneath Morgathus, freezing him in place.

"Stay there," she said, her voice firm, "while I finish this fight."

Phillip darted across the battlefield, dodging Valtor's shadow blades. The vampire's crimson eyes locked onto his target as he lunged forward, landing a blow that sent Valtor staggering.

"You'll need more than speed to beat me," Valtor hissed, his voice a chilling whisper. He raised his hand, and Phillip froze, his vision clouding.

Images of Isabella, broken and lifeless, filled Phillip's mind. He clutched his head, groaning. "No... this isn't real!"

Valtor laughed. "Fear is the greatest weapon, vampire."

Phillip's breathing steadied, his red eyes glowing fiercely. "Then I'll show you what happens when you push me too far." He roared, unleashing his Blood Rage. His attacks became a blur of ferocious strikes, overwhelming Valtor and forcing him to retreat.

The ground beneath Sirela turned to ice, frost spreading in jagged patterns as Circea laughed coldly.

"Your songs won't help you here, siren," Circea said, summoning icy constructs that lunged at Sirela.

Sirela's voice rang out, a haunting melody that shattered the ice into glimmering shards. "You underestimate me, frost witch," she said, her tone sharp.

Circea narrowed her eyes and raised her hand, freezing the air around Sirela. Ice crept up her body, locking her in place.

Sirela's eyes burned with determination. With a scream, her form start shifting. Her legs turn to tail, shimmering like crystal, and wings of water burst from her back. In her Queen form, she shattered the ice and summoned a tidal wave that crashed into Circea.

"You won't win this!" Sirela gasped, her energy faltering but her resolve unshaken.
Cercia get scared of her new form.

Felix snarled, his claws slashing through the air, but every strike seemed to miss Arathor.

"Why are you fighting yourself, wolf?" Arathor taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Felix's movements grew erratic, his mind clouded by illusions.

Felix growled in frustration. "Get out of my head!"

Arathor smirked. "Oh, but it's so much fun to watch you struggle."

As the kryoth moons light touch his skin. He felt energy, the silver glow flowing in her veins which is visible. The ground beneath him rippled like water as the spectral wolves emerge. With a roar, Felix tapped into his wolf from, he howl and from the watery pit he summon a pack of lunar wolves, his body glowing with a silver aura. The mental chains broke, and Felix lunged forward, slamming Arathor into the ground with feral strength.

"You can't control me anymore," Felix growled, his claws ready to strike again.
Arathor eyes shining with curiosity to fight with felix. Darkness vs light.

Aurora raised her hand, summoning a shield of light as explosions rocked the ground around her. Seraphina grinned, throwing another vial.

"Your light won't save you, Aurora," Seraphina sneered, transforming nearby rocks into spears and launching them forward.

Aurora countered with glowing constructs of light, disarming the spears mid-air, her transparent wings glowing. "Your tricks are clever, but they won't stop me."

Seraphina hissed, casting a wave of darkness that swallowed the battlefield. But Aurora channeled her inner strength, summoning a burst of blinding light that pierced the darkness and forced Seraphina to retreat.

"This isn't over!" Seraphina shouted as she disappeared into the shadows.

Aurora lowered her hands, her breath steady. "No, it isn't. But I'll be ready."

In the dark, quiet chamber of the Castle, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Shelves of ancient tomes lined the walls, their spines cracked and weathered, whispering of stories untold. A single candle burned on the table, casting flickering shadows that danced like restless spirits.

A cloaked figure sat hunched over an enormous book, its cover as black as night and etched with glowing red runes. She turned the brittle page, the sound echoing in the silence like a ghostly sigh. She open the page in which a black queen sitting on throne and a girl fighting against her, but she is not alone, the 7 titans are also standing with dark queen, she spread a hand on page. Her voice was soft but carried an edge of foreboding as she began to read aloud:

"Now, Isabella's life will twist into unrelenting torment. The prophecy is going to starting, The shadows will rise, and the Queen of Eclipse shall awaken. But for the queen to rise, it is Isabella who must break the seal."

The figure paused, her fingers trailing the fiery script. She let out a hollow chuckle, a sound that seemed to drain warmth from the room.

"Foolish girl," she murmured, almost to herself. "Does she even know what she is about to unleash? The queen will not bow to anyone-not even the heir of the crown. She will burn everything, devour the world in flames, and take what she believes is hers by right. No crown, no throne, no heir-only ash and ruin."

She leaned back, her silhouette looming larger against the dim light. Her voice dropped, almost a whisper.

"And yet, it must be Isabella who does it. Destiny is cruel that way. What will she choose, I wonder? To save the world, or to end it with her own hands?"

The candle flickered violently as if reacting to the weight of the words. For a moment, the Chronicle itself seemed to shiver, the shadows deepening. The figure turned another page, her tone suddenly light, mocking.

"Ah, but this is where the fun begins, isn't it? Poor Isabella. She doesn't know it yet, but her story is no longer her own. The Queen of Eclipse is coming, and no one-not her allies, not her enemies-can stop it."

The figure closed the book with a thud that echoed ominously. She reached for the candle, snuffing it out with a twist of her fingers. In the darkness, only her voice lingered:

"Let the game begin."