The student council room hummed with tension as everyone who had been at the scene crowded inside. The grandiose space, usually a symbol of authority and prestige, now felt oppressive under the weight of the situation. The scent of aged wood and the lingering metallic tang of blood from the courtyard seemed to hang in the air.

Chloe Rawllings, her expression a mask of authority, took her place at the head of the table. She gestured for everyone to sit. "Let's begin. Nate, explain what happened."

Nate stood, his face a mix of defiance and exhaustion. "They were attacking a Blank student. I stepped in to stop them. They threatened Elysia, saying they'd do all kinds of twisted things to her. I lost control."

Murmurs of disbelief and anger rippled through the room. One student council member, a boy with a haughty expression, stood up. "This is unacceptable. He should be expelled. Or jailed."

Elysia rose, her gaze sweeping the room with an intensity that silenced the murmurs. "No one died. Thanks to Anton's abilities, they're all alive." She turned to Anton and Irina. "We should be thanking them, not condemning Nate."

Anton and Irina exchanged a glance, then Anton spoke up. "I did what needed to be done. The real issue is the systemic bullying and violence against Blanks. Nate's actions, while extreme, are a symptom of a bigger problem."

Chloe nodded thoughtfully. "That may be true, but Nate's actions cannot go unpunished. We need to set a precedent."

Another council member leaned forward, expression stern. "Then Nate will take readjustment classes. This behaviour is unacceptable, and it requires immediate correction. "Elysia took a step forward, her voice resonating with resolve. "I'll take the readjustment classes in his stead. Nate is my knight—whatever he did was on my behalf. His actions, his choices, fall on my shoulders as much as his own. "Chloe's eyes narrowed, a hint of tension tightening the line of her mouth. "Elysia, while your loyalty to your knight is admirable, this is about setting an example. Actions have consequences."

"Exactly!" Another council member snapped, his voice dripping with disdain as he glanced at Nate. "What he did could start a precedent—a dangerous one. You can't just dismiss this as a matter of loyalty or knightly duty."

Nate's eyes flashed with defiance, but he held his tongue, his gaze fixed steadily on the council. Elysia took a breath, unwilling to waver. "I'm not dismissing anything, but the fact remains that he acted in my defence. You know as well as I do that others in his place would have done worse."

"Worse or not," the council member shot back, "there has to be a line. Are you prepared to justify every life he takes or every rule he breaks on the grounds of protecting you?"

Elysia's jaw clenched, but she kept her voice even. "Yes. As his liege, I am responsible for him in every capacity. If you need a line, then let that line be with me."Chloe's gaze flicked between the two, her expression unreadable. "What you're asking for, Elysia, is more than just an apology or a symbolic punishment. You're proposing an exchange that could have significant consequences."

A murmur of agreement passed among the council members, each of them exchanging troubled glances. Chloe waited, letting the silence stretch as she scrutinized Elysia's expression. "If you're that insistent on sharing the consequences, then let me propose something else: rather than just classes, Nate joins the enforcers."

The room fell silent as the words hung in the air. Nate's face remained impassive, but a faint tightening around his eyes betrayed his reaction.

"Chloe, that's..." one of the council members began, faltering. "You're suggesting we bring him into the very group meant to uphold the laws he just blatantly disregarded?"

Chloe raised a hand, silencing the objections. "Yes. It's unconventional, but there's a reason for this. The enforcers would keep him in check—and" her gaze sharpened on Nate, "if he's truly as committed to Elysia as he claims, he'll see that having power means learning to control it. "Nate's jaw tightened, and Elysia's gaze darted between him and the council. She could sense the weight of Chloe's proposal settling on him like a tangible force, his pride and anger twisting together.

"You're asking him to police himself," Elysia said finally, her voice calm but carrying an edge. "You can't seriously think he'll be more controlled by making him an enforcer."

Chloe's voice softened but held its firmness. "This isn't just about control, Elysia. It's about responsibility. If he's truly your knight, then this role will test the limits of his loyalty—and yours. If you're both so committed to each other, you'll have to prove it under these terms."

Nate's hands clenched at his sides, his face a mask of restrained fury. "You want me to 'prove' myself by becoming an enforcer?" Nate's voice was laced with defiance as he spoke. "If you think shackling me to your enforcers is going to make me respect this twisted system, think again. I'll tell you who needs restraint—and it's not me."

The faint hum of Aetherium devices filled the silence as Nate's words echoed in the room. A muscle ticked in Chloe's jaw, and even Elysia's stoic expression flickered under the pressure of the council's gaze.

Chloe's voice remained steady. "I'm not offering you a choice, Nate. This isn't a punishment—it's an expectation. If you refuse, there are plenty of others willing to take your place." Chloe's gaze lingered on Nate, her voice unwavering. "NovaMyst must evolve, and discipline—true discipline—requires guidance. The enforcers are NovaMyst's backbone, but they're also its compass. If you're unwilling to help shape the school, perhaps you don't belong here."

Elysia stepped forward, her voice fierce. "No. There is no replacement. Nate is my knight, and he will fulfill this role if it's what you require. But make no mistake, Chloe—this isn't about testing loyalty. You're using this to make an example of him, of us."

Elysia's voice was steady, but her heart hammered with each word. As Chloe's piercing gaze scrutinized her, she felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. Nate was right to despise the system, but aligning herself against the council carried its own risks—and consequences she might not be able to shield him from forever.

Chloe met Elysia's gaze one final time, a hint of something almost like respect flashing in her eyes before her expression hardened. "An example, perhaps, but one we all need. This precedent could mean a shift, not just for him, but for NovaMyst itself." She turned back to the council, her voice now commanding. "Let it be known Nate joins the enforcers under close monitoring, with Elysia's responsibility as his liege. We'll hold her to her word."

The council members exchanged uneasy glances but eventually nodded, murmuring their reluctant approval. The decision solidified, and a tense silence fell over the room as Chloe's gaze settled back on Elysia and Nate.

The faintest quirk of her lips revealed her satisfaction at the concession. "Welcome to the enforcers, Nate. It's time to prove just how far your loyalty and restraint can go."

The council room hummed with tension, and the heavy silence was broken as one of the council members cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to the matter at hand.

"We still need to address Anton Melnic's actions," he began, his voice unyielding. "While he may have saved lives, he used magic without enforcer authorization. At that moment, Nate was no longer a direct threat to anyone, which, technically, makes Anton the initiator of aggression."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the room—some in agreement, others wary. Anton's face remained impassive, yet his hands tightened slightly at his sides. Irina's gaze sharpened, a spark of defiance in her expression as she readied herself to defend her brother.

Another council member spoke, his tone calm but firm. "Considering all this, I propose that Anton, too, joins the enforcers. And as newcomers, Nate and Anton should team up. They will be held accountable together, under enforcer supervision."

Chloe's gaze fell on Anton, a flicker of expectation in her eyes. "Anton," she said, her voice a quiet authority, "do you accept this proposal? Joining the enforcers means you'll be held to the same standards and responsibilities as Nate."

The room stilled, all eyes on Anton. After a pause, he met Chloe's gaze steadily, his tone cool but unwavering. "I never asked to be part of this. I did what I thought was right. If you're expecting me to take orders for doing what none of you could, you're wasting your time."

Chloe's expression flickered, a shadow of surprise in her otherwise composed demeanour, but she held firm. "This isn't about punishment, Anton. It's about responsibility. You acted with conviction—now, we're giving you a chance to formalize that role."

Anton's eyes flashed, and he glanced at Irina, his jaw set in defiance. "So now I'm expected to act as your enforcer? To control others the way you try to control us. I think I'd rather not," he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Irina's voice cut through the room, calm yet resolute. "Anton," she said quietly, a warning in her tone, "think carefully. This isn't just a formality. It's an opportunity—a chance to protect others like us. To do more than just follow orders."

He looked at her, his defiance wavering, though the stubbornness remained in his gaze. "You think they'll just let us change things?"

"If you don't accept, they'll make this even harder on both of us," she replied, her voice steady but urgent. "We can do more from within than outside."

Anton clenched his fists, his gaze drifting back to Chloe, who stood with patient resolve. After a long pause, he gave a terse nod. "Fine," he said, his voice low, reluctant, yet carrying a note of finality. "I'll accept. But don't expect me to just bark at your every call."

Chloe's gaze held his for a moment before she nodded, acknowledging the tension that remained. "Very well. Anton Melnic will join the enforcers alongside Nate Davis. The two of you will work as a team, under close supervision. But remember, with this role comes responsibility. You're no longer just students—you're protectors of this institution. And we will be watching."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Elysia and Irina exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They could see the stakes had just risen even higher, and that both Nate and Anton would face challenges not just from their peers, but from within.

Chloe's voice rose, commanding the room once more. "Let this be a new beginning. We uphold our standards, but we also strive for change. Nate and Anton, your actions will reflect upon us all. Do not take this responsibility lightly."

With the council's decision made, the room's tension eased slightly, though an undercurrent of unease remained. Nate and Anton's unexpected partnership had set them on a collision course with NovaMyst's rigid expectations, and everyone in the room knew the outcome would shape the academy's future.

The council members, students, and faculty gradually dispersed, but Chloe's words lingered, an unspoken promise of the challenges that lay ahead.

As the room cleared, Elysia approached Nate, her expression a mixture of concern and resolve.

"Can you come to my room later tonight so we can talk?"

"Should you really be having a boy over at night-"

"I'm serious." Elysia says, cutting Nate off.

His smile slowly disappears into a more serious expression "Yes, milady."

She nods and walks off, leaving Nate to make his way out of the building by himself.

That night, Nate headed toward the Marks' dormitory, each step slow and deliberate. The cool night air bit at him, but it did little to soothe the frustration twisting through his mind. The eerie silence of NovaMyst at night made the academy feel different—a place built for secrecy, for manipulation. Shadows stretched across the pathways, twisting under the faint glow of Aetherium wards, while the faint scents of pine and distant cafeteria food mingled in the air, feeling out of place against his raw, simmering anger.

The grandeur of the Marks' dormitories stood in stark contrast to the stark, minimalistic Blanks' quarters. Entering felt like walking into an opulent lie, but tonight, it was just another irritation he forced himself to ignore.

At Elysia's door, he knocked softly. It creaked open a moment later, and she stood there, her expression unreadable.

"Come in," she said, her voice low as she stepped aside.

Nate walked inside, taking in the elegant furnishing—a room worlds away from what he was used to. He settled on the plush sofa, the cushions sinking under him in a way that felt mocking. He looked up at her, and though his frustration had settled, it still burned just under the surface.

"We need to talk," Elysia began, her voice carrying an urgency he hadn't expected. "This situation... it's more complicated than we thought."

Nate nodded slowly. "I know. But we can't let them call the shots. And I'm sorry, Elysia... Look, I wasn't planning on getting mixed up in any of their bullshit. Hell, I was going to leave that poor kid to his fate—but they circled me and started spewing crap about the things they'd do to you. I made sure they knew those threats would never happen."

She studied him, her face softening just slightly as she listened. He continued, his gaze distant, focused on some point beyond the room.

"I'm not cut out for this, Lysia. I came because you asked me to, but this place... this hierarchy, the goddamn games, and bullshit—if all I do here is cause trouble, maybe your family's right. Maybe I don't belong around you."

For a moment, she was silent, and then, almost startled, she jumped up from her spot on the bed. "What? No. Fuck that, Drakkar. If this is about me losing it on you today, then I'm sorry. I was worried and panicked, and I just... I didn't know what else to do." She took a breath, steadying herself. "If they find out who you are, what you are, I..."

Her voice cracked, and she looked away, blinking back the glint of tears in her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Drakk. I need you here. Don't go."

Nate stared at her, his heart clenching at the sight of her vulnerable expression. "I'll still be around, just... not physically. You're stronger than you think, Lysia."

"No, no, you're not getting it." She reached out, her hands clasping his tightly. "I need you here, with me."

He looked down at her hands around his and let out a slow sigh. "You know you're playing unfairly, don't you?"

"Huh? How?"

"You know damn well I have a hard time saying no when you ask like that."

Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled her hands away, crossing her arms with a stubborn look. "So... does that mean you'll stay?"

Nate chuckled quietly. "I'll do my best. It means... I'll do my best."

A smile broke through her serious expression, and she playfully punched his arm. "And quit it with the 'milady' business when it's just us, alright?"

"I wasn't sure I'd earned the right to be informal anymore, considering how badly I screwed up."

"Don't be a dumbass. I couldn't hate you if I tried."

"Not even if I... I don't know, ate your family's souls?" he quipped with a grin.

She gave him a playful scowl, rolling her eyes. "Very funny... But seriously, how's the food treating you? And the, uh... hunger?"

He looked at her, ruffling her hair with a grin before leaning back. "Interesting, if that's the right word for it. And the hunger... it's like an itch, just under the surface, but it's manageable. So far."

"Good," she whispered, her voice soft. She gently rested her head on his leg, looking up at him. "If you need anything, you'll come to me, yeah?"

"I promise." He paused, smirking. "Milady."

Elysia rolled her eyes and gave his arm a hard smack. "Ow!"

"I told you not to call me that!" she laughed, hitting him once more for good measure.

"Alright, alright! Elysia. I promise, Elysia."

She nodded, a faint smile of triumph on her face as she leaned back. "Good boy."

Nate raised an eyebrow, eyeing her with mock indignation.

"Goodnight, Nate," she said, standing and ushering him toward the door, though her hand lingered on the knob for just a moment longer than necessary. She hesitated, watching him walk out into the hallway, a flicker of worry clouding her expression as he disappeared into the shadows.

A week passed since the council's decision, and NovaMyst's atmosphere had darkened. The whispers that had once lingered in corridors were now outright sneers, and the sneers had grown bolder, louder. Tension coiled tightly in every hallway, fed by the unchecked hatred that grew stronger by the day. It was as if Nate's outburst had cracked open a dam, and now all the bile and resentment hidden beneath the surface had seeped out, spreading into every corner of the school.

The worst of it was directed at the Voiders—the small, ostracized class made up of students who, by birth or by choice, didn't have chips implanted. Seen as the weakest, they took the brunt of the growing hostility. Blanks had become more brazenly ridiculed, but the Voiders were treated as less than human. Some students spat the word like a curse, mocking them openly, using their lack of "gifts" as an excuse for cruelty.

For Nate and Anton, days as enforcers were now spent running down lists of abuses, though it felt more like a list of slaps on the wrist than any true enforcement. Anton handled most of it alone; Nate was there but indifferent, more of a silent shadow than a partner. It hadn't taken long for him to start skipping out, hanging back whenever he could. Even now, he was watching Anton handle a group of bullies harassing a Voider student at the end of the hallway. Nate leaned against a wall, his gaze half-lidded with disinterest.

Anton wrapped up, sending the offenders off with a stern warning. As they walked away, Anton turned to Nate, his annoyance barely contained. "You know, you could step in sometimes. We're enforcers together, but it feels like I'm the only one doing anything."

Nate's gaze followed the group retreating down the hall, his expression impassive. "You're doing a fine job without me, aren't you? Besides, we're not actually enforcing anything. We show up, give the culprits a talking-to, and that's the end of it. They're back at it the next day. There's no real punishment here, Anton—no consequences, no change. It's a joke."

Anton's jaw tightened, his voice low but controlled. "It's still our responsibility. Even if it feels pointless, leaving these kids to suffer because we think it won't matter is its own kind of cruelty."

"It's already worse," Nate muttered. He looked down the hall, where a group of Blanks had gathered, casting wary glances at a group of Marks lounging nearby. "We're not enforcing anything. We don't command respect, and we don't inspire fear. No one takes us seriously."

Anton's frustration flashed in his eyes, and he didn't hide it this time. "Maybe that's because you refuse to take this seriously. You can't just stand by and then complain nothing changes."

"Stand by? You think I'm the one standing by?" Nate's voice dropped, his gaze sharpening. "Face it, Anton—the council doesn't care. They've given us the title of enforcers to shut us up, not because they expect us to change anything. This whole thing is rotten from the top down."

Anton's frown deepened, but he stayed quiet, clearly wrestling with his own frustrations. They walked down the corridor, and Nate noticed that some Voider students were pressed against the lockers, looking down as a few Marks strolled by, laughing and shoving them against the walls.

Nate's eyes narrowed, catching sight of the familiar uniform. "So... there's a whole class here for Voids," he said, voice low as he leaned closer to Anton. "I'd heard rumors, but I didn't know they'd actually segregated them."

Anton's mouth tightened into a hard line. "Yeah. They keep them hidden, for the most part, stuck in some of the older parts of the building. They're hardly even allowed in the main halls unless they have a class nearby. The council's aware of it, but I don't think they care to change it."

Nate's gaze darkened, his voice edged with disgust. "All because they didn't get a fucking chip implanted. It's bad enough they're treated like ghosts, but they're made to feel invisible too. Hell, I didn't even know they existed up until a few days ago."

Anton cast him a sidelong glance. "What's your point, Nate? If you're so disgusted, then why do you keep ducking out of the work?"

A bitter laugh escaped Nate. "The 'work?' Do you honestly think that this role is anything but ceremonial? We're just the council's poster boys. Enforcers who can't enforce anything because no one's really afraid of us."

"Maybe that's because you won't let them be." Anton took a step closer, his voice tight with barely concealed anger. "If we don't do it, who will? You said it yourself—they keep getting away with it. If you're as disgusted as you say, then do something about it instead of standing around pretending you're above it all."

Nate's eyes flared with a mixture of resentment and something darker. "You want to see real enforcement? Because, trust me, Anton, I'd gladly break every one of them again if I thought it would make a damn bit of difference. They don't understand words, only power. And we're not using any of it."

"If that's how you feel, then act on it. Or admit you're just hiding." Anton's own frustration boiled over, his voice sharp. "Stop putting it on the council, the system—if you don't believe in any of it, then do something different. Otherwise, shut up and let me do the job."

The hostility hung thick between them, and Nate's retort was cut short by a loud clanging from further down the hall. A Mark student had shoved a Voider into a row of lockers, throwing a smouldering smoke ball spell at him, causing the Voider to stumble. A faint sneer curled at Nate's lips, but Anton was already moving.

"Hey! Leave him alone," Anton called, marching up to the Mark. The student turned, giving him a bored look, and sauntered off as if nothing had happened.

The Voider slumped against the locker, visibly shaken. Nate watched, the anger boiling up in him as he took in the student's hollow, defeated expression. His fists clenched, a dark frustration simmering as Anton helped the Voider to his feet, his voice calm as he reassured the student. "Look, if this keeps happening, you need to let us know, alright?"

The student nodded, his face pale, and hurried away without a word.

Anton turned to Nate, his expression stony, his gaze fixed with determination. "So what now, Nate? You going to keep ignoring them and let them think there's no point?"

Nate let out a hollow laugh, the bitterness unmistakable. "As if they don't already know it. This school is a pit, Anton. We were told we'd be setting a precedent, but the only precedent we've set is, 'Do what you want because we won't actually do anything about it.' You know it, I know it, and they know it too."

Anton took a step forward, voice taut with control. "And while you're busy sulking over the system, real people are getting hurt, just like you said. So are you going to keep pretending it doesn't matter?"

Nate met his glare, the resentment still flickering in his eyes. "You think you're any different? Mr. 'Activating Combat Mode'?" His voice dipped lower, edged with challenge. "I haven't forgotten that little stunt, Anton. Care to explain what that was all about?"

A tense silence followed, Anton's jaw clenched, and he felt a familiar pressure building in his temples—the precursor to one of his debilitating migraines. He couldn't afford to lose control now, not here. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away, not sparing Nate a glance. Each step echoed with the pent-up frustration he struggled to contain.

Nate watched him go, anger and frustration swirling in his chest like a storm. His thoughts circled back to the Voider students, their hollow eyes and defeated expressions haunting him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—anything—had to change.