Shadows Gather

The grand hall of Hades' Wrath lay cloaked in dim light, shadows creeping along the walls, their forms twisting under the pale green glow of iron braziers. The air was thick with tension, as if the walls themselves held centuries of whispered schemes. Heavy tapestries adorned with scenes of conquest and death draped along the cold stone, each thread depicting a history woven with blood.

Around a darkened table sat the leaders and elders of Hades' Wrath, their faces obscured beneath hoods, eyes gleaming with sinister intent. At the head of the table sat Malik, one of the highest-ranking elders, his gaze cold and calculating. Next to him, a figure from Black Lotus observed in silence, his mask reflecting the glow from the braziers, etched with the faint outline of a twisted silver lotus.

The silence was broken by the flicker of a screen at the far end of the hall, casting a ghostly light across their faces. Malik raised a hand, and murmurs stilled. The video feed began to play, a hidden recording of the recent battle with the Serpentine Syndicate, taken by a covert operative who hadn't survived to bring it back personally.

The screen showed a chaotic battlefield—structures shattered by ice and wind, the ground torn open by powerful earth-shaking blows. The Serpentine Syndicate's strongest fighters fell one by one, their cries cut short by lethal strikes. HQ watched in silence, the tension growing as they saw purple fire and shadow alike intertwining through the feed, tearing through Syndicate forces.

A thick tension filled the room as the elders watched the figure of the ARM-ranked soldier cloaked in darkness, dispatching enemies with a terrifying mix of precision and fury.

"Look at him," murmured one of the elders, his voice a blend of fear and fascination. "An ARM rank… and with those powers?"

The image on the screen shifted, showing the masked figure commanding his team, his voice inaudible but his presence unmistakable. Then, for a brief instant, the camera zoomed in on his hands—one engulfed in the Void's dark energy, the other blazing with the unmistakable violet hue of Purple Fire.

The Black Lotus representative, watching intently, leaned forward, his face hidden but his interest palpable. "It's true then. The ARM user wields both Void and Purple Fire," he muttered, almost to himself.

An elder of Hades' Wrath let out a derisive snort. "So the Serpentine Syndicate had their ambitions, yet crumbled like insects under a single ARM user."

A mocking laugh rippled through the group. "The Syndicate thought themselves invincible. But in the end, they fell like any other, destroyed by a weapon they couldn't comprehend," sneered an elder from Black Lotus.

Malik's face remained unreadable, but his voice, calm and cold, sliced through their amusement. "The Serpentine Syndicate was only the beginning. Their failure will serve as a lesson—a warning. But for us, it's an opportunity."

One elder, his face scarred and his eyes gleaming with malice, leaned forward. "But the ARM user… If it's truly one of the Bellator bloodline, we're up against something no ordinary weapon can control. Exeo, Ember… or Valens," he said, naming each brother with a bitter edge.

Another elder from Hades' Wrath added, "If it's Exeo, his control over the Void is troubling enough. But if it's Ember or Valens, then we're dealing with one who's bound by Clareo's commands."

Malik nodded thoughtfully. "Exeo, Ember, or Valens, it matters not. The Bellator name may hold weight in Clareo, but it will not protect them from us. They may have the ARM user now, but that just means we'll test his limits, exploit his weaknesses, and remind Clareo that even the strongest can be broken."

He gestured to the video feed, which continued to play. Now, it showed the ARM user in direct combat, his movements as fluid as an assassin's, each strike shattering the defenses of the Syndicate's most formidable fighters. Every blow seemed meticulously calculated, and as they watched, it was as if he anticipated each attack before it was even made.

An elder from Black Lotus watched in silence, his fingers tapping slowly on the table, his voice finally breaking the silence. "We need to know more," he mused. "If this ARM user truly possesses both Void and Purple Fire, Clareo may have more control over the ARM rank than we anticipated."

Malik's cold smile didn't waver. "Control is an illusion. Clareo has no more control over an ARM user than they do over the storms in the skies. But we… we can introduce chaos, disrupt their hold, and when the time is right, we'll crush this ARM user beneath our heel. And with him will fall Clareo."

The screen played on, now showing the final moments of the Syndicate leader's life as the ARM user closed in, shrouded in Void and ablaze with Purple Fire. The leader's defiance crumbled under the weight of his combined powers. Her scream echoed through the live feed, silencing the room once more.

For a moment, there was only silence, as the assembled figures absorbed what they'd just witnessed. Finally, an elder of Black Lotus leaned forward, his smile twisting with a sinister edge.

"Then let's move forward with the plan. With the Serpentine Syndicate's territories vulnerable, we can absorb their assets. We'll expand, and by the time Clareo realizes what's happened, we'll have infiltrated their very government."

An elder from Hades' Wrath chuckled darkly, "And their precious Team Unknown will find nothing but a wasteland waiting for them."

The Black Lotus representative leaned back, crossing his arms with a smirk. "Let them send their special elite. Let them believe they hold the advantage. By the time they realize what we're doing, it will already be too late."

Malik's voice cut through the murmur of agreement, his words laced with cold finality. "Prepare yourselves. The next phase of our plans will remind every nation who truly holds the power. No city, no fortress will be safe. The ARM user may believe he's invincible, but even he will be powerless against what we have planned."

The room echoed with dark laughter, a haunting chorus of promises spoken in shadow.