The Witch and the Rift

The starter witch class was abuzz with the usual chatter of spells, incantations, and the occasional spell gone wrong. Asmodeus and Belial sat at their shared desk, their noses buried in a weathered spellbook titled Arcana for Beginners. The two had made considerable progress since their shaky start, but their efforts still paled compared to the raw talent of their friend, Madara.

The class was briefly interrupted as a messenger crow swooped in, dropping a parchment on the professor's desk. The instructor glanced at it, then addressed the class.

"Attention, everyone," she announced. "Madara Uchiha has officially been promoted to the intermediate class, effective immediately. He's no longer your classmate."

Gasps and murmurs filled the room.

"Already?" Asmodeus whispered, his brow furrowed. "I knew he was good, but this fast?"

Belial leaned closer, her voice low. "I'm not surprised. Madara's been leagues ahead of us since day one. Still... it's strange. He never even hinted he was being evaluated."

Asmodeus sighed, staring down at his parchment covered in messy scribbles of half-learned spells. "He's out there, soaring ahead while we're stuck with disappearing bunnies and misfired illusions."

Belial nudged him playfully. "Hey, give yourself some credit. You've come a long way since your first day."

The news spread like wildfire throughout the academy. By the time the day's lessons ended, Lucifer and his crew had caught wind of Madara's promotion. Gathered in one of the darker corners of the academy grounds, the group plotted in hushed tones.

"This isn't right," Lucifer growled, his eyes blazing with anger. "A newcomer like Madara shouldn't outrank us, especially not me."

Behemoth, nursing his bruised ego from his recent loss to Asmodeus, nodded vehemently. "We've been here for years. It's an insult to our skills."

Lucifer smirked, his sharp features casting sinister shadows in the flickering torchlight. "Then let's remind him of his place. A little... confrontation should do the trick."

Madara was walking back from the intermediate wing when he sensed the air change. It was subtle at first—a prickling at the back of his neck, a faint disturbance in the magical aura surrounding the academy. His hand instinctively went to his wand as he turned down a deserted corridor.

"You've been busy, Uchiha," a deep, mocking voice echoed.

Lucifer stepped out from the shadows, his wand in hand. Behind him, Behemoth and two others flanked his sides, their menacing glares fixed on Madara.

Madara's expression remained calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of annoyance. "What do you want, Lucifer?"

Lucifer twirled his wand lazily, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You're moving too fast, Madara. This academy has an order—a hierarchy—and you're disrupting it."

Madara crossed his arms. "I wasn't aware talent needed to adhere to a hierarchy."

Lucifer's smile disappeared, replaced by a sneer. "You think you're better than us? Let's see if you can prove it."

Behemoth raised his wand, the tip glowing ominously, but before he could cast a spell, Madara acted.

"Don't," Madara warned, his voice sharp as he raised his own wand. "This won't end well for you."

The warning went unheeded. Behemoth launched a bolt of dark energy, but Madara countered with ease, his spell deflecting the attack and sending Behemoth stumbling backward.

The corridor erupted into chaos. Spells flew in rapid succession, the air crackling with energy. Madara moved with precision, his wand weaving intricate patterns as he deflected and countered each attack. He managed to disarm one of Lucifer's followers, sending the boy's wand clattering to the ground.

But then, Lucifer unleashed his power. With a wave of his wand, a surge of darkness engulfed the corridor, momentarily blinding Madara. In the confusion, Behemoth tackled him, slamming him into the stone wall.

Madara winced, his vision swimming, but he managed to push Behemoth off with a burst of raw energy. He turned to face Lucifer, whose wand now glowed with a sinister, pulsating light.

"This is your last chance, Madara," Lucifer hissed. "Back down, or I'll make you regret ever stepping foot in this academy."

Madara stood his ground, his wand steady despite the pain in his shoulder. "You're all bark, Lucifer. Let's see if you can actually bite."

Before either could make another move, a deafening roar echoed down the corridor. The headmistress, a formidable figure draped in flowing robes, appeared at the far end. Her wand was raised, and the sheer force of her presence caused the boys to freeze in place.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice icy. "Students attacking one another in my academy? Explain yourselves!"

Neither Lucifer nor Madara spoke, their wands still raised. The headmistress's gaze hardened.

"Enough. Both of you, to solitary confinement. Now."

The solitary cells were small, dimly lit chambers designed to suppress a witch's magic. Asmodeus and Belial heard the news by word of mouth, their classmates whispering about the fight and the severe punishment that followed.

"I can't believe Madara got into it with Lucifer," Asmodeus said, pacing the common room. "What was he thinking?"

Belial frowned, her arms crossed. "He wasn't. Lucifer must have provoked him. That guy thrives on intimidation."

"But still," Asmodeus argued, "Madara knows how dangerous Lucifer is. Why would he risk it?"

Belial looked out the window, her expression thoughtful. "Because he's not the type to back down. And maybe... maybe he thought standing up to Lucifer was worth the risk."

Asmodeus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, now he's paying the price for it. And knowing Lucifer, this isn't over."

Belial nodded, a sense of unease settling over her. The events of the day had shifted the balance of power within the academy, and she couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get more dangerous.