In the squared training room bathed in an obsidian glow, Dark hones his skills amidst the carefully arranged gym equipment and soft carpets that cushion his every move. The room, impeccably cleaned, features a radiant light traversing from end to end on the ceiling, casting an ethereal ambiance.
Engaged in a symphony of combat, Dark wields fake weapons with precision, executes intricate martial arts maneuvers, and delivers powerful punches that resonate through the space. Each movement is a dance, a testament to his relentless dedication to mastering the arcane arts.
Pausing mid-strike, Dark's penetrating gaze assesses the time, momentarily breaking the rhythm of his training. The room, despite its shadowy exterior, becomes a canvas for his disciplined exertions, a place where the fusion of darkness and glowing light echoes the duality within him.
Dark: (thinking) It's 3:42 AM, I'm going to have to get ready for school it's going to start at 7, gotta run for 25 miles in 40 minutes.
Dark: (thinking) So far I've spent a whole month out of the wild areas of nature, I'm going to have to adapt more to this daily routine.
In a swift transition, Dark strides towards the treadmills, his determined gaze fixed. With a decisive flick, he sets the speed to its maximum and begins to sprint, his form a blur as he effortlessly conquers the rapid pace.
The scene evolves, and moments later, we find Dark enveloped in steam as he stands beneath the cascading water of the shower. The ethereal mist cloaks his silhouette, while rivulets of water journey down from his head, tracing a path along his neck, chest, and beyond.
As the mist dissipates, the scene switches to Dark changing into his new uniform, a garment bestowed upon him by the principal. The attire, a manifestation of his elevated status, clings to his transformed physique, marking a symbolic transition from relentless training to a renewed sense of purpose within the Academy of the Elites.
What Dark wears.
Introducing the Elite Class uniform—a sublime masterpiece draped in the profound elegance of absolute black. Meticulously designed for those who have ascended to the pinnacle of arcane mastery at the Academy of the Elites.
Design:
The uniform boasts a fabric that absorbs light, creating an otherworldly darkness that wraps around the wearer like a celestial shroud. Its tailored silhouette exudes a commanding presence, while subtle, iridescent patterns emerge under the moonlight, revealing themselves only to those attuned to the mystical.
Silver-embroidered trim traces the contours, adding a touch of celestial luminescence against the profound blackness. The Elites' emblem, a fusion of enigmatic symbols, is intricately woven into the fabric, its faint glow whispering of secrets known only to those who wear the uniform.
Accessories:
In harmony with the uniform, accessories include black leather gloves inscribed with arcane runes, heightening the wearer's connection to the mystical energies. Onyx amulets and silver clasps adorn the robes, embodying the union of dark sophistication and magical prowess.
Purpose:
This uniform transcends mere attire; it becomes a symbol of unrivaled mastery. Those who don this garment not only embody the pinnacle of arcane understanding but also command an aura of enigmatic authority, distinguishing them as true Elites within the sacred halls of the academy.
Dark: Wooaaahhh I did not think this would look good on me but I look fantassttiicccc.
Dark walks out and it's already 6:57 AM.
Dark: Ohhh noooo I'm laatteeee.
Dark: Tiger's Crouch, Speed Of Acheetah.
Exhaling a mysterious smoke, Dark assumes a poised stance reminiscent of a cheetah ready to sprint. With a surge of energy, he accelerates, his form a mere blur as he dashes towards the school from a far distance. His legs, a whirlwind of speed, become a mere abstraction, and the wind sweeps his uniform backward, revealing the intensity of his velocity, reaching an incredible 78 miles per hour. The landscape blurs around him as he becomes a fleeting silhouette on the path to the Academy of the Elites, a force of nature in motion.
Arriving at the school gates, Dark is met with hostility as a group of students converges, ready to deliver punishment.
Dark: Hey, what's going on?
A menacing reply echoes, "We're going to punish you for stepping into our school!" Unfazed, Dark springs into action, launching a roundhouse kick that connects with precision. With unparalleled strength, he seizes the assailant by the collar, effortlessly pulling the grown teenager to the ground.
Silence descends as Dark stands unyielding, his gaze sweeping across the stupefied crowd.
Dark: Anyone else?
As the students witness their leader's swift defeat, a sense of fear permeates the air, solidifying Dark's standing among them. However, a faction within the school remains adamant about ousting him.
Unfazed, Dark strolls into the school, hands casually tucked in his pockets. Eyes closed, he contemplates the upcoming lesson, navigating the hallways with a calm demeanor, anticipating the ring of the school bell signaling the beginning of lessons.
Dark: (thinking) If it's dark magic again....
Dark: (thinking) my name is Dark and I'm learning about dark magic, doesn't make sense....
Dark: (thinking) This school is great for its uniforms I appreciate how it looks, but for some reason I feel like this isn't my destiny, to become a mage like the principal told me.
Dark mocking the principal for what he said.
Dark: (thinking) "YoU WilL gRoW iNtO oUr GrEaTeSt MaGe" thinking he can just tell me what I will be when I grow up, that's nothing of his concern.
With the resonating chime of the school bell, Dark proceeds to his classroom, facing a chorus of laughter from his peers. Unperturbed, he takes his seat, ready to confront the challenges that lie ahead. The teacher enters, signaling the commencement of the lesson.
Tracy: Hello there students, your teacher is going to be away for a while, I will take over the lesson from now on.
Dark smiles.
Tracy: So today we will be learning how to create a weapon from dark space.
Tracy, the substitute teacher, gracefully places her right hand on her chest, infusing it with a mysterious dark aura. With deliberate movements, she extends her left hand forward, setting the stage for an intriguing display of mystical prowess.
Tracy: After doing this, say these words and then the choice of weapon you wish to yield.
Tracy: From the depths of darkness, thicker than darkness, I command the depths of the shadows to summon a black hollow katana.
Within the confines of a shadowy force field, Tracy's hands orchestrate a captivating transformation. Shadows gather and weave themselves into a sleek, black katana, materializing with a certain elegance in her left hand. The classroom watches in awe as darkness takes tangible form.
Tracy: And this, is a gift to Dark, the strongest student in our school.
Amidst the rising commotion, Tracy strides towards Dark, presenting the newly conjured katana with a graceful yet purposeful gesture.
As the students buzz with speculation and inquiry, questioning how an unexpected figure like Dark could ascend to the position of the school's strongest, a distinctive character stands up. Clad in an unconventional uniform—a full black hooded cape adorned with feathers, and featuring black hair and piercing green eyes—this enigmatic student, named Gilmuar, takes a stand against the unfolding narrative.
Gilmuar: Miss Tracy, I think you have forgotten about me.
Tracy: Sorry Gilmuar, have a seat, Dark has gotten a perfect score 100% in all exams.
Students gasp.
Gilmuar advances towards Dark with a deliberate pace, each step resonating with a ground-cracking force, underscoring his immense strength and raw power. The atmosphere becomes charged with tension as the two characters prepare for a confrontation that seems inevitable.
Gilmuar: Fight me Dark, allow me to prove miss Tracy that scores don't matter.
Dark: (thinking) Thanks to Nature's compass I can see everyone's weaknesses and his weakness is speed.
Dark rises to his feet, meeting Gilmuar's imposing figure with a gaze that acknowledges the significant height difference between them. The air is thick with anticipation as the students in the classroom observe the brewing clash between two formidable individuals.
Gilmuar tries to swing his fist at Dark but Dark moves fast going behind him, Gilmuar turning around trying to swing again, Dark vanishes and appears behind him again.
Dark: Your too slow Galmara.
Gilmuar: It's Gilmuar.
Dark: Gilmara.
Gilmuar's unleashed rage wreaks havoc on the classroom, shattering its confines and sending everyone plummeting downward. However, Dark, with unparalleled speed and heightened senses, swiftly rescues each student from the impending disaster, leaving Gilmuar alone amidst the chaos.
As the dust settles, Dark stands undaunted, his hair swaying with the remnants of the chaotic energy. His hands remain nonchalantly tucked in his pockets, radiating an air of confidence that contrasts sharply with the tumult he just averted. The students, now witness to Dark's extraordinary abilities, stare in awe and newfound respect.
Dark: Your brute strength is nothing compared to my speed Gilmara.
Gilmuar: ITS GILMUAARRRR!!!
The echoes of Gilmuar's furious roar reverberate through the entire school, causing tremors that underscore the intensity of the moment. Unfazed, Dark strides menacingly toward Gilmuar, a subtle smirk playing on his face. In a swift motion, Dark extracts his left hand and maneuvers behind Gilmuar with unparalleled agility, delivering a precise neck chop that sends Gilmuar tumbling to the ground.
The students, once apprehensive of Dark's presence, now watch in astonishment as he effortlessly subdues the formidable Gilmuar. A hushed awe fills the air, replaced by a newfound respect for Dark's unparalleled skills. The once-skeptical onlookers are now witness to the prowess that solidifies Dark's place as a force to be reckoned with in the school.
Within the bustling classroom, students from other classes exchange whispers in amazement.
Student 1: "Hey, isn't Dark the new transfer kid that came in a while ago?"
Student 2: "Yeah, I think so."
Student 3: "How is he so strong?"
The voices swirl around the room, curiosity and awe evident in their hushed conversations. As the scene moves, it transitions to Dark sitting inside the principal's office, the air thick with anticipation.
Dark: Am I in trouble..?...
Principle speaks and tells Dark his name.
Kurogami: My name is Kurogami, you can call me Sir Gami, and no you are not In trouble.
Kurogami: Gilmuar has been constantly bullying students and teachers, using his powers for evil, he almost killed the teachers that's supposed to be in your classroom today but is now in hospital because of Gilmuar's actions.
Kurogami: I would like to thank you for putting him down, he has been kicked out of the school and is never allowed to enter our gates ever again.
Kurogami: And please we have decided to give you a title.
Dark: A title? Tell me.
Kurogami: Dark, The Shadow Conqueror.
Dark: Shadow? Conqueror?....
Dark: (thinking) Isn't that what Nature calls me? Shadow Conqueror, Nature's Boy?...
Dark making awkward faces and moving his mouth around trying to think of something.
Kurogami: What's wrong?
Dark: I like that title.
Kurogami: And you have been set to the highest rank possible in our academy.
Kurogami: Starlight Oracle.
Kurogami: The perks you're allowed to do are....
Kurogami: One, you are able to teach all classes about whatever you wish to teach.
Kurogami: Two, create tournaments anytime and anywhere.
Kurogami: Three, challenge anyone to a duel.
Dark: Umm....okay....
The camera gracefully ascends toward the office ceiling, seamlessly transitioning to Dark in his room, preparing to settle in for the night.
Dark's room is an abyss of shadows, the walls draped in sleek, obsidian tones that absorb light. The door, a seamless obsidian slab, blends seamlessly with the walls. Adjacent to it stands the entrance to his private gym, veiled in darkness.
The bathroom door, an unmarked expanse of shadow, is nearly indistinguishable within the dim ambiance. Inside, the bathroom mirrors the theme – dark, yet sophisticated. The fixtures are minimalistic, shrouded in an aura that resonates with Dark's enigmatic demeanor. The amalgamation of style and obscurity casts an intriguing veil over his personal space.
End of chapter 2.