"Revenge is sweet until you take it."
***
Madara was in one of his hideouts, hidden in the grim depths of the real world. He sat on a tall, carved chair, his fingers tapping slowly on the armrest, as if counting down the last seconds of someone's life. His eyes, cold and merciless, pierced through the darkness filling the room. Silence reigned around him, broken only by the occasional rustling of his subordinates, who sat across from him, not daring to breathe too loudly. They exchanged glances but could not comprehend the storm of rage and calculation raging in their master's mind.
Madara was reflecting on the attack on the academy. His thoughts were sharp as daggers and just as ruthless. He despised weakness, scorned those who could not defend themselves, and now, having been used as a pawn, his anger had reached its limit. The attackers were strong, numerous, each a professional in their craft. But they could not have appeared out of nowhere. Madara knew this. He had revealed himself, but he did not regret it. Now he would have to act with even greater caution, but also with relentless cruelty.
During the battle, he had not initially understood who was behind the attack, but soon it became clear. When he severed the arm of one of the assassins, he saw a tattoo—the same one he had seen in the underground base of the Clan of Valor. Betrayal. They had used him as a diversion to seize the real target. It was an insult he could not forgive. Now he would have to take revenge, and his vengeance would be terrifying.
Madara rose from his chair, his movements smooth, like a predator preparing to strike. He began pacing the room, his shadow, elongated by the dim light, seeming to live its own life, writhing along the walls. His mind worked at an incredible speed, calculating every step, every possibility. After a few minutes, he stopped, his eyes flashing with cold fire.
"So, my subordinates," his voice was low, like the whisper of a blade against steel, "now we will take revenge. Gather everyone, even the novices. I will wait for them here. Tomorrow, we will show this world what it means to challenge me."
His words were a death sentence, and the subordinates, not daring to object, vanished instantly, leaving him alone. Madara sat back down, his eyes burning with rage and cold hatred. At that moment, he felt his mind beginning to descend into madness, but it did not frighten him. On the contrary, he welcomed it. Soon, the world would learn of the true monster he had been hiding within himself.
---
The headquarters of the Clan of Valor towered in the center of the city, its glass facades blinding passersby with the reflection of the sun. Inside, life was bustling: hundreds of people worked, chatted, rested, unaware that their world was about to collapse. At the checkpoint, a few guards sat, mechanically checking documents. At that moment, a black car pulled up to the gates. The window rolled down, and the driver showed a pass. The guard saluted and let the car through.
When the car descended into the underground parking lot, three silhouettes emerged from it, barely visible in the dim light. They moved silently, like shadows, attaching small pieces of paper with mysterious symbols to the undersides of cars and the columns supporting the building. Meanwhile, inside the building, three more figures were doing the same, placing the papers in inconspicuous spots. They used their abilities to remain invisible, blending into the darkness. The last, seventh figure worked outside, attaching similar papers to the fence. When their task was complete, they vanished as if they had never been there.
---
A couple of hours later, another car pulled up to the building. Inside sat Morgan, her face twisted with rage. She was in a foul mood: an entire squad of her assassins had been wiped out, and the target she had thought weak had turned out to be cunning and dangerous. Now she realized it had all been a game, and the enemy would make their next move. But she was confident they did not know who was behind the attack. Let them search.
As she approached the building, something inside her tightened. She sensed something was wrong. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the parking lot. Approaching one of the columns, she noticed a piece of paper with an unfamiliar symbol. She tore it off, but then saw dozens more scattered everywhere. Her eyes widened in horror, but she had no time to react. A deafening explosion rang out.
The building collapsed, turning into flaming ruins. Morgan barely managed to crawl out from under the debris, her face contorted with rage. She looked around and saw a man in a mask standing on the roof of a neighboring building. He stood with his arms crossed, seemingly mocking her. With a scream of fury, she lunged at him, but the moment her hand almost touched him, he shattered into thousands of shards, and his laughter echoed in her ears for a long time.
Morgan, wasting no time, rushed to the outskirts of the city, to a gray, inconspicuous building. Smashing through the door, she descended into the basement, where she found a broken door and several corpses behind it. The corridors were drenched in blood, the walls scarred with claw marks and bullet holes. In a large hall, she saw dozens of hanging bodies, and beneath them—a mask that seemed to smirk at her. On the wall was an inscription: "I always repay my debts."
Her rage reached its peak. She began destroying everything around her, but at that moment, a familiar laugh echoed behind her. She turned around but saw only a shadow that vanished in an instant. Then another explosion shook the underground complex, burying her under the rubble.
Madara watched from afar, his laughter cold and merciless. He knew his revenge was only beginning. The world, already plunged into darkness, had yet to witness the true horror he was ready to unleash upon it.