Palace Of Nightmare.

In the quiet elite dorms, sweat dripped down Ares' brows and panic rose in his heart.

He had been relishing the moment of quiet in the new dorms and the wonderful facilities it had when trouble came knocking on his door again.

This time around, it was the unknown, and to Ares who liked to know what and when he was dealing with something, this could be said to be worse.

Ares stared at the back of his palm where his bloodline mark was pulsing. The warmth of the mark grew hotter and sharper by the second, until it felt like his palm was burning.

He clenched his fist, trying to ignore it, but the heat intensified, spreading up his arm and sending waves of fire through his veins.

A low, pulsing throb sounded in his ears, growing louder with each beat.

'What's happening to me?' Ares stumbled to his feet, clutching his wrist as the room blurred. Darkness edged his vision, tightening like a vise.

The last thing he saw was his own face reflected in the dorm's small window, looking frighteningly pale.

And then everything went black.

_____

Ares awoke with a start, gasping for breath like a drowning man. His lungs were on fire as a result of lack of oxygen and his breathing was faint.

But as his eyes adjusted, he realised he was no longer in his dorm room.

He was lying in a pitch black tight space which he guessed was a stone casket judging by the rough edges pressing against his back and sides.

The stone was damp, almost sticky, and the air was heavy with the sickly, metallic scent of blood.

He shivered and pushed at the lid of the casket, his arms straining as he shoved it aside.

He stumbled out, his heart racing, and took in his surroundings.

He was in a dim, narrow chamber with walls of slick, black stone, faintly glistening in the eerie red glow of flickering torches.

The torches cast distorted shadows that seemed to twist and writhe on the walls as though alive.

Ares swallowed hard. The oppressive silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the low, distant hum that seemed to echo through the stone halls.

He steadied himself, breathing deeply, trying to shake off the lingering sense of dread.

'Where the hell am I?' Ares' mind raced as he tried to come up with an idea of where he was. He knew that panicking couldn't help him at this point.

One moment he was inside his new dorm room, about to have a good rest and the next moment he was coming out of a casket in what looked like a demonic temple?

After mustering enough courage, he stepped forward, his breath steady, eyes darting around.

Since he didn't know where he was and didn't know how to leave, the only other choice he had was to explore the place and hope he found something that could help him.

Except, Ares doubted if this place—or the inhabitants—could ever offer him help.

Strange carvings lined the walls. They were twisted figures locked in silent screams, clawing at each other or reaching out as if in agony.

Every few steps, he passed stone pedestals holding more disturbing sculptures: statues of beasts with jagged teeth, eyes hollow and cruel, frozen in snarling expressions.

The whole place felt alive with a malicious energy, as though the very walls were watching him.

He walked down a narrow, twisted corridor, the silence broken only by the soft sound of his footsteps.

Shadows flitted along the walls, moving in sync with his pace. As he rounded a corner, his heart nearly stopped.

A vast, dark pool stretched before him. The liquid inside was thick, rippling gently, and its colour—deep, crimson red—left no question about what it was.

It was blood!

Dark ripples glided along the surface, and as he watched in horror, a shape began to rise from the depths.

It was a demonic, skeletal figure, its eyes burning with a fierce, unnatural light. It swam lazily in the blood pool, occasionally lifting its head just enough to reveal sharp, pointed teeth glistening in the dim light.

Suddenly, it paused, seeming to notice Ares, and a low, guttural growl echoed through the chamber. It didn't move closer, but simply watched him, as if waiting.

Ares took a step back, his heart pounding, but the creature merely sank back into the pool, vanishing beneath the surface and leaving it eerily calm once more.

Ares' back was drenched with sweat. When the skeletal creature had gazed upon him, he had felt a sense of dread so intense he had thought he was going to die.

It left no room for doubt in his mind. As if the very world wanted him dead.

It was terrifying...

Shaken, he forced himself to move forward, trying to ignore the oppressive weight pressing down on his chest.

The corridor twisted and turned, leading him deeper into the nightmare.

There were mirrors clouded with something dark and thick, and when he dared to glance into them, he saw warped reflections of himself, twisted faces that grinned or sneered back with cruel, mocking eyes.

He passed more statues, their hollow gazes seeming to follow him, cold and judging.

At last, he entered a massive hall. The air was colder here, thick with a malevolent energy that made his skin crawl.

The walls were lined with torches that flickered weakly, their light barely enough to push back the shadows. And in the centre of it all stood a throne.

The throne was built from dark, ancient bones and twisted metal, forming shapes that seemed to mock any sense of humanity. Shadows pulsed around it, thick and unnatural, as if they were a part of the throne itself.

And sitting upon it was him.

Ares stared, frozen in shock. The figure on the throne was himself, yet horribly wrong. This version of him had skin marred by dark, pulsing veins, and his eyes glowed a sinister, bloody red.

His mouth curled into a twisted grin, revealing sharp, glistening teeth. Clawed fingers tapped rhythmically on the throne's armrest, each tap echoing like a heartbeat.

Ares's own bloodline mark began to pulse in sync, the heat returning, hotter, more insistent. He clenched his fist, feeling the energy within him stir wildly, thrashing like a caged beast.

The figure on the throne watched him with a gleeful, predatory gaze, its eyes gleaming with an unspoken challenge.

Ares's breath hitched. His own voice, yet not his, echoed from the throne, cold and mocking.

"You think you're in control?" it sneered, voice low and dripping with malice. "Do you think this power answers to you?"

A wave of terror surged through Ares as the dark figure's words wrapped around him like a snare.

His bloodline bead roared to life, the energy tearing through him, wild and furious. It was like a firestorm inside him, burning, twisting, trying to consume him.

Ares fell to his knees, clutching his chest as pain exploded within him, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

The figure's grin only widened, and the throne room blurred, fading into darkness as he felt himself pulled away.

_____

He jolted awake, gasping, back in his dorm room. His entire body was drenched in sweat, his hands shaking.

A sharp pain stabbed his chest, and he coughed, feeling something warm rise in his throat. He choked, blood spilling from his mouth onto the floor as he doubled over.

The mark on his hand was still faintly pulsing, and a chilling realisation gripped him: whatever he had seen in that nightmare was more than just a dream.

It was real!

_____

Power stone Goal!

100 PS - 1 Bonus chapter

200 PS - 2 Bonus chapter

300 PS (Quite an achievement as of now) - 3 Bonus chapters.