MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

An unfathomable presence descended upon everything and everyone.

It permeated the very core of every living being, leaving them acutely aware of their insignificance.

A suffocating sense of helplessness washed over them.

The arrival of these three colossal auras caused the very foundations of reality to tremble.

Under Mitchelle's radiant aura, the space itself, the earth, trees, mountains, hills, summits, and valleys shuddered with an immeasurable force.

In less than a heartbeat, the entire terrain exploded outward under the overwhelming pressure of her aura.

Her presence was so dense, so suffused with power, that the very area where the students had been confined was obliterated, reduced to the most primal, formless state, leaving no trace behind, not even the faintest particle of debris.

Yet, with her extraordinary restraint, she ensured that no life was lost.

None of the students, demons, or members of the forsaken cult were allowed to perish.

With terrifying precision, she kept them all alive, while simultaneously eradicating the vast space around them.

They floated suspended in the air, bound by some unseen force, incapable of movement, held in place by the sheer magnitude of her control.

She had ensnared every living soul in that space, locking them in place, manipulating reality itself.

Her gaze fell upon the remaining demons, who, though alive, were now marked by a deep terror that seeped into their very souls.

Her eyes were cold, devoid of mercy, as she unleashed her elemental powers upon the demons who dared to lay hands on her son.

Without a simple subtle gesture, flames erupted around the demons, searing their flesh with a heat so intense that their bodies writhed in agony, contorting against the ground as their anguished cries filled the air.

Just as the fire's relentless grip pushed them to the brink of death, Mitchelle's hand shifted, and a pulse of healing energy flowed from her fingers, mending their charred bodies and dragging them cruelly back from the edge.

They gasped, horrified, their relief short-lived as they realized she intended to begin the torment anew.

A flick of her wrist summoned tendrils of water that coiled around them, freezing in jagged shards that pierced deep into their flesh.

They were immobilized, caught in a silent scream as icy daggers filled their veins with frost.

With another wave, the ice shattered, splintering into shards that embedded themselves painfully, yet still she would not let them die.

Her voice cut through their agony, calm yet saturated with venom.

"You dared lay hands upon my son"

She whispered, the air around her thrumming with latent power.

"Beseech oblivion if you like, but know that mercy is something you will not receive"

Mitchelle's eyes narrowed as she let the ice fade, their agonizing warmth giving way to a chilling calm.

She raised her hand, summoning a rush of wind that whipped around the broken demons, slicing into their flesh like unseen blades.

The air itself became a weapon, cutting into them with a relentless, invisible force that left blood seeping from countless wounds.

As they fell to their screams, struggling to shield themselves, she commanded the winds to still, leaving them gasping and trembling in the silence.

Yet she offered no respite.

With a flick of her fingers the sundered earth coalesced beneath their feet, reforming with an effortless grace, as though summoned back into existence by her sheer will.

Jagged spires of earth erupted, encasing their limbs and torso in cruel restraints, twisting their bones and pinning them in place.

She watched, unmoved, as they writhed against the earthen bonds, their faces twisted in pain.

When their struggles grew faint, she waved her hand once more, releasing them from the earth's grasp, only to heal their wounds, restoring them to full consciousness.

"You dared to profane my bloodline"

She murmured, her voice echoing like a terrible incantation.

Finally, she reached into the depths of her elemental mastery, conjuring a veil of shadow that clung to their forms, slipping beneath their skin like tendrils of darkness.

The shadows seeped into their very beings, twisting within them, causing their minds to fracture under the relentless intrusion.

They screamed, clawing at their own flesh, as if trying to expel the darkness from their souls.

And yet, just as their minds teetered on the edge of shattering, she withdrew the darkness, leaving them hollow, shaking, and yet alive....alive to suffer anew.

Mitchelle's gaze turned colder, her eyes flickering with a dark intensity as she called upon the fundamental fabric of reality itself.

Space, malleable, intangible, responded to her command.

With a single gesture, she twisted the very air around the demons, bending space in ways that no mortal mind could comprehend.

The fabric of reality around them warped, distorting their surroundings into a nightmarish panorama.

Their bodies stretched grotesquely, limbs elongating and contorting unnaturally, as though the very laws of physics had been torn asunder.

The sensation was maddening, as if they were being pulled and compressed in opposite directions, their skin tearing as their internal organs were crushed by the unbearable pressure.

Their cries were ragged, their voices distorted and warped, unable to escape the suffocating grip of the shifting space.

As they convulsed, bodies tearing apart at the seams, Mitchelle closed her eyes for a brief moment, feeling the full weight of her control.

She reveled in the agony of their minds, their souls stretched to the breaking point.

And then, with a flick of her wrist, she released her hold.

Space snapped back into place with a violent shudder, and the demons were left in a state of suspended agony, their bodies disjointed and mangled from the sheer force of the manipulation.

But she was not done.

In an instant, she condensed the space around them into an impossibly small sphere, crushing their forms into a singularity of excruciating density.

There was no escape, no time to beg for mercy, as their bodies collapsed inward upon themselves.

With one final movement, she severed their existence from reality altogether, their very being unraveling into nothingness.

The screams of the demons faded into nothingness as they were consumed by the abyss of her power, leaving no trace behind.

The students who had managed to survive watched the horrific scene unfold before them, their eyes wide with terror and disbelief.

A suffocating chill gripped their hearts, each of them paralyzed by a fear that clung to their very souls.

The raw, merciless display of power was something they had never even imagined, let alone witnessed.

Elemental Torturer

The thought flashed across Anthony's mind, though his face remained stoic, betraying none of the emotions that swirled within.

The contrast of his calm demeanor to the chaos around him was unsettling, yet somehow fitting.

He could not look away, not from the inferno of wrath that burned so intensely in his mother's eyes.

Mitchelle, the Elemental Queen, was an embodiment of fury itself.

Her rage, once boiling under the surface, now spilled forth like a tempest, each elemental manifestation a testament to her boundless wrath and ridiculous control.

Though she had obliterated the demons who dared to touch her son, her thirst for vengeance had not been quenched.

It was not merely their deaths that would soothe her, but something more, a fierce justice that demanded retribution on a far greater scale.

For a fleeting moment, an unthinkable thought surfaced in her mind.

'Should I turn my fury upon the Academy itself for its abysmal incompetence?'

The temptation was strong, but she pushed it aside with the resolve of a mother who had seen the horrors her son had endured, there was a far more pressing matter at hand.

"Calm down, Mitchelle. Our son is safe"

Michael's voice, rich with authority and calm, cut through the tension that suffocated the air.

Mitchelle's eyes, burning with an intense fire, slowly shifted toward Michael.

Her gaze pierced him, a silent storm of emotion swirling behind her stare.

For a few long moments, she said nothing, as if weighing his words against the tempest inside her.

Then, with a deep breath, her body relaxed.

She exhaled sharply, and, just like that, her rage began to dissipate, vanishing as swiftly as it had come, leaving only the echo of its power in the air.

"We should leave"

Collins' voice rang out, thunderous and final, as if the very world bent beneath the weight of his words.

Both Michael and Mitchelle nodded in quiet agreement, their expressions now more composed, but the silence that followed was thick with unspoken understanding.

Mitchelle, with a casual wave of her hand, dismissed the remnants of the chaos she had unleashed.

In an instant, everything, every shred of destruction, every piece of the shattered reality was erased.

Nothing remained of the violence, as if it had never existed.

No trace of the demons, no evidence of their cruel acts, nothing at all.

Only an untouched void lingered in the wake of their departure.

And with that, they were gone, leaving no footprint, no echo, only the lingering weight of their presence in the air.