The announcement resounded through the hall like a thunderclap: "The Dark Lord is dead! Long live the Heirs." The proclamation sent a wave of shock and confusion among the gathered Death Eaters. The room, filled with a dark and palpable tension, now felt eerily quiet, as if the very walls were absorbing the weight of the revelation. All eyes instinctively snapped to Tom Riddle and Mattheo Riddle, the natural successors in the twisted hierarchy of their dark world. The two stood side by side, a stark contrast in demeanor but united in their inherited authority. Tom's cold, calculating gaze met the room with an unspoken challenge, while Mattheo's intense, simmering anger hinted at a ruthlessness that few could match.

Tom took a step forward, his presence commanding and undeniable. He surveyed the room, noting the mixture of fear, anticipation, and loyalty etched on the faces of those before him. His mind raced, already strategizing the next moves to consolidate their power and secure their position as the new leaders.

Mattheo, standing slightly behind his brother, smirked at the attention. Unlike Tom, he thrived on the chaos and unpredictability of their situation. His dark eyes glinted with a dangerous excitement, relishing the prospect of proving himself in this new order.

Tom finally spoke, his voice calm and measured but carrying the weight of absolute authority. "The Dark Lord may be dead, but his legacy lives on through us. We are the Heirs, and we will not falter. Together, we will rise to heights even he could not imagine."

Mattheo nodded in agreement, stepping forward to stand beside his brother. "Anyone who dares to question our rule," he added, his voice dripping with menace, "will learn what true fear is."