In the gilded halls of an exclusive academy for the wealthiest of all, six people, six inseparable souls, collectively known as 'The Elites,' or 'The Rulers of Imperia Elite Academy', navigate a world of unimaginable privilege.
Bound by deep friend...
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|Somewhere in Luxembourg|
The cloaked figure moved silently through the night, approaching a decaying building that seemed to breathe darkness. The structure was a grotesque sight, worn down by time and tainted by the horrors it had witnessed. As the figure stepped inside, the door creaked ominously, and the foul odor of rot, blood, and something indescribably evil filled the air.
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From somewhere deep within the building, the tortured screams of a man echoed faintly, growing louder with each step the figure took. The dim lighting barely revealed the filth-streaked walls, but it was enough to suggest that this place had long been a haven for the cruel and the wicked.
*Warning : Little mention of Torture*
The cloaked figure pushed open the rusted, half-broken door with a groan that seemed to echo through the hollow, oppressive silence. The room beyond was illuminated by the feeble, erratic glow of a single flickering yellow bulb, casting eerie shadows that danced across the grimy, splattered walls.
The sight that greeted him was a chilling nightmare of suffering made real. In the center of the room, a man was bound to a wooden chair, his limbs grotesquely mutilated, leaving bloody stumps where hands and feet once were. The man's body was slick with blood, the dark crimson staining his skin and pooling beneath him. His face was a mask of sheer agony, contorted into a permanent grimace as silent screams seemed to tear from his throat, his eyes wide and unseeing, reflecting the horror of his situation.
