Above ground, the Academy of Fangs still shimmered with festival lights — music echoing, laughter continuing as if nothing dark festered beneath their feet.
Far from the crowds, on an elevated balcony overlooking the stage, stood Darius Redthorne — crimson hair neatly styled, uniform immaculate, a wine glass held with arrogant poise.
Behind him lingered three noble lackeys — all pale, all nervous.
One of them, fidgeting, finally spoke:
"L-Lord Darius… is it not risky to leave them down there for too long…? I heard the headmaster still monitors the Labyrinth—"
Darius didn't even turn.
"He won't interfere. The labyrinth below is a sealed relic. Only someone with high authority can override its controls."
He took a casual sip, the torchlight glinting in his narrowed eyes.
"And our esteemed Archmage Greyveil is far too occupied with appearances tonight to notice a few… missing names from attendance."
"But—" another noble stammered, "this wasn't what you promised. You said it was a harmless spook—a prank."
Darius' lips curled into a thin, cruel smile.
"Oh, it is. A prank they'll never forget."
His gaze lowered — to the depth beneath the academy grounds.
"Ash Vale thought he could silence me in front of the entire Dining Hall… as if he were one of us. As if a gutter-born nobody could walk beside dragons and hydras."
His grip tightened on the glass — mana causing a faint crack along the rim.
"He humiliated me," Darius hissed. "This is balance being restored."
A sudden breeze swept across the balcony — cold as a crypt. Torches flickered low.
One of the nobles shivered."Did… the temperature just drop?"
Darius frowned, annoyed."Stop trembling. It's simply the night air."
But something was off.
The background noise of the festival — cheers, instruments, fireworks — felt distant. Muted. Drowned out by a crawling silence.
A silence that watched.
The nobles' eyes widened — staring behind Darius.
He turned slowly.
A shadow stood by the railing.
Not a person. Not fully.
More like a hole in the world, shaped vaguely like a man — its edges dripping darkness like ink in water.
Eyes — slits of silver flame — opened within the void.
Everything inside Darius screamed to run.
His legs refused.
"W–what… what is that thing?" the nobles whimpered.
The shadow tilted its head, studying Darius like prey.
Then—
A voice spoke.Not aloud — but pressed directly into his bones.
"You toy with forces buried for a reason…""And you dare awaken the guardian with lies."
Darius dropped his glass — shattering.
"H–H-Guardian…? But the controls… the seals—"
"The Labyrinth chooses when to sleep.""Tonight, it woke hungry."
The shadow leaned forward — closer.
"You fed it."
Darius stumbled back in a panic.
"I—I didn't mean— It was just— They were supposed to be—!"
"Bait?"
His heart nearly burst.
The creature's eyes narrowed to terrifying brilliance.
"The beast below will decide your worth too… Lord Redthorne."
Suddenly — a pulse of crimson light burst from deep underground — the entire academy floor trembling violently.
Students outside gasped, confused — glancing around.
Darius stared in horror.
"That—That wasn't supposed to—"
He turned back to the nobles for support.
They were already gone — sprinting for their lives.
He reached for his communicator crystal — but it shattered in his trembling grasp.
The shadow was gone.
Or… perhaps it had never been truly there to begin with.
But its final whisper slithered through his mind like a curse:
"Debts are always collected.Even from cowards."
Darius Redthorne could no longer feel his hands.
Or his pride.
Only terror.
Because for the first time in his life…
He wasn't the predator.He was prey.
And somewhere deep below — in a living maze of teeth and echoes — five students fought not just to escape…
…but to survive what he had unleashed.
The night swallowed his panic.
And the festival music continued.
As if nothing had gone wrong.