The air in the New London's general hospital room was thick with tension and the faint hum of medical equipment. Sophia's ragged breaths gradually steadied as her eyes flickered open, the room's dim light casting shadows on her pale face. The group around her watched with bated breath, their emotions a mix of relief and anticipation.

Elysia leaned in, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Sophia, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

Sophia blinked, her eyes struggling to focus. "E-Elysia?" she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What happened?"

"You were under a powerful curse," Chloe explained softly, her eyes darting to Lance, who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "But we managed to wake you. You're safe now."

Sophia's gaze shifted, landing on Nate. Her expression turned from confusion to anger. "Nate..." she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. You... betrayed us."

You... traitor." Her voice trembled, the words dripping with a venomous hate that hadn't been there before. "You're the reason my sister is lying broken. You did this to us, to her... you did it all."

Nate's face remained impassive, but a flicker of something darker crossed his eyes. He didn't look at her, the weight of the accusations pressing down, almost suffocating him. "Sophia, it's not what you think," he murmured, his tone low, haunted.

Sophia's rage flared, her face twisting into a mask of hatred that seemed alien on her usually composed features. "Not what I think?" she spat. "I felt what she felt! I saw everything they made her go through! The pain, the humiliation... the things they forced her to do, all in your name!"

Her words struck the room like physical blows, reverberating with a ferocity that left everyone silent. Elysia reached out, trying to place a calming hand on Sophia's shoulder, but Sophia slapped it away, her movements erratic, almost feral.

"They showed me everything, Nate," she snarled, her voice rising to a fever pitch. "Everything that was done to her. Do you know what it's like to feel your mind twist, to have everything you believe shattered and rebuilt in someone else's image? They told me about you, showed me how you're just waiting to tear us apart from the inside. How you'll betray all of us just like you betrayed her!"

She lunged at him then, a primal, desperate motion that sent Elysia and Chloe into action, each grabbing one of her arms. Sophia struggled against them, her fury raw and uncontained, every muscle tense as if trying to break free from invisible chains.

"Get your hands off me!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, almost breaking. Her eyes darted around, frenzied, as if looking for an escape, for something she could use to strike. "You're all blind! He's using you, using all of us! He's a monster, a demon! I saw it—felt it, every disgusting, twisted thing he's done."

A chill fell over the room. Elysia's heart raced, a prickle of panic at Sophia's words. She exchanged a tense glance with Nate, both aware of the dangerous territory Sophia was treading. No one, outside the Arundel family, knew about Nate's true nature. Yet here was Sophia, voicing that forbidden truth, her accusations fuelled by the madness planted within her by the Purity Front.

"Sophia, please, calm down," Elysia urged, her voice gentle yet strained. "They did things to you—they brainwashed you. They made you believe things that aren't real."

Sophia's laughter cut through the air, harsh and broken. "Not real? Oh, Elysia, you have no idea what they've done. They opened my eyes. They made me feel every ounce of what Susana went through, every degradation, every violation." Her voice cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks as her face contorted in fury and pain. "And it all traces back to him. They showed me how he's part of it, how everything starts with him."

She turned her gaze back to Nate, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure hatred. "They made her... they made her humiliate herself, strip her bare for them, for anyone who wanted to see. They fed her lies about her worth, used her body as a tool. And she did it all because of him. Because he's corrupted everything here. They showed me... they showed me how you laughed at her pain, Nate. Said she was 'just another tool.' You'd sacrifice all of us if it meant reaching your endgame."

Nate flinched, just barely, his stoic mask cracking at the edges. He took a deep breath, his voice tight, controlled. "Sophia... I had nothing to do with Susana's suffering. Whatever they told you, it's a lie."

Sophia's voice dropped to a bitter, trembling whisper, her eyes alight with something broken. "But it felt real. Every violation, every whisper in my mind telling me she was nothing, that she deserved it. They showed me her shame, her fear. I felt it as if it were my own." Her voice rose, thick with desperation. "I saw her begging for someone to save her... and no one did. And now, here you are, pretending you're innocent, pretending you're the hero. But you're not."

Chloe, still holding onto Sophia's arm, looked at Nate with a mixture of horror and pity. "Sophia... they twisted your memories, warped your thoughts to turn you against us, against Nate. Can't you see that? They wanted you to hate him, to hate all of us, to feel alone and broken."

But Sophia was beyond reason. Her face contorted with rage as she jerked free of Chloe's grip, staggering forward a step before her legs nearly gave out beneath her. "No," she spat. "It's you who doesn't see. I've seen the truth. He's a demon, Chloe! He's a monster wearing a human mask, and you're all too blind to see it. They showed me, they... they rewired me to see it all clearly."

Her voice fractured, her words trailing off into a barely coherent whisper as tears streaked down her cheeks. Her gaze darted between her friends, filled with both betrayal and desperation. "I thought I could trust you all. I thought you were on my side. But you're letting him pull you into the darkness... letting him taint everything."

Lance's amused smirk had faded, replaced with a faint frown of curiosity. He crossed his arms, his voice calm but cold. "They did quite a number on her," he observed, a clinical detachment in his tone. "It's impressive, really. This kind of deep mental conditioning... it takes more than just a few memory tweaks. They reprogrammed her from the inside out."

Sophia whipped her head around to face him, her eyes wild. "Don't you dare talk about me like I'm some experiment!" she shouted. "You're all so smug, so damn certain that you know better. But you don't know what it's like. None of you know what they put me through, what they made me believe." Her voice lowered, raw with anguish. "I thought they were saving me... but all they did was strip me of myself."

Elysia felt a knot tighten in her throat. She stepped forward, her hand trembling as she reached for Sophia again. "Sophia, we're here to help you. We're your friends. Whatever they did, whatever lies they put into your head... we can undo it. We'll be here for you."

But Sophia shook her head violently, a haunted, hollow laugh escaping her lips. "Undo it? You can't undo what they did. They tore me open, Elysia. They took my memories, my fears, and they remade me into something else. I don't even know who I am anymore. All I know is that I hate him. And I'll keep hating him until he's gone." Her eyes found Nate, full of a darkness that had never been there before. "I'll never forgive you for what you've done to us."

She collapsed onto the hospital bed, her body wracked with silent sobs as the fight drained from her, leaving her looking small, broken, and utterly lost. The others, including hospital staff watched, paralyzed, each of them caught between horror and helplessness.

Nate stood rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face as unreadable as stone. But there was a tightness around his eyes, a hint of something fragile just beneath the surface. He took a slow breath, as if steadying himself, before speaking softly, his voice carrying a strange mixture of empathy and regret.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, Sophia," he said, his tone subdued but unwavering. "But I am not your enemy." His gaze hardened, meeting hers with a steady resolve. "I'm going to make sure the people who did this to you pay for it.

But Sophia's eyes were vacant, staring past him, lost in her fractured reality, a reality built on pain, lies, and the scars left by those who had twisted her mind. In that moment, Nate realized that he couldn't reach her, not like this. The purity of her rage was a wall he couldn't break through, a wound too deep for simple words to heal.

Elysia placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him, pulling him back from the abyss of doubt and guilt that threatened to consume him. She didn't say anything, didn't need to. Her silent presence spoke of unwavering support, a promise that they would face this together.

In the corner, Lance watched them, his eyes glinting with a cold, clinical curiosity, as if mentally dissecting each reaction. "It's quite tragic, really," he murmured, a faint smirk returning to his lips. "The lengths to which people will go to destroy someone's mind. But you should be careful, my dear Elysia. There are always consequences for playing with people's heads. It's one thing to break a mind, but this... crudeness offends even me. There's an art to control, and this is butchery."

Chloe shot him a withering glare. "This isn't a game, Lance. If you can't see that, then you're no better than the ones who did this to her."

Lance's smirk faded, a flicker of something darker crossing his face before he shrugged, brushing her words off with practiced indifference. "Perhaps. But I would appreciate not being compared to these... people." He says with disgust in his voice. "Besides this doesn't affect just the Bently's it affects the families as well, and I am sure you all know why."

"Look all this bullshit doesn't matter!" Evan says raising his voice. "There has to be someway to save her, something someone can do... We can't just leave her like this."

"Look mate..." Nate tries reaching out but Evan brushing him aside.

"No don't. Just... I need air." He says, as he storms out of the room.

As silence settled over the room, each of them was left with their own thoughts, haunted by Sophia's shattered mind, by the whispers of manipulation that had crept into every corner of their lives. And beneath it all, an unspoken realization hung heavy in the air: this was only the beginning. The people who had done this—who had torn Sophia apart from the inside out—were still out there, waiting in the shadows.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

They had turned one of their own into a weapon, and the damage was far from over.

The next day, the academy seemed to pulse with a tense calm, the kind of silence that hinted at an impending storm. For once, Nate allowed himself a moment of hopeful normalcy. He joined Chloe as they headed to his "routine checkup," both determined to follow through on their agreement: no one was letting him go through these evaluations alone anymore.

The sterile corridors of the hospital wing loomed around them, too bright, too clean. They exchanged a few remarks, light and calm, as if trying to trick themselves into believing it was just another ordinary day. But as they rounded the corner to the ward, a scream—raw, filled with a blend of horror and grief—tore through the silence, slicing through their fragile pretence of peace.

Nate and Chloe froze, wide-eyed, then bolted toward the sound. It was coming from the room where Sophia and Susana had been resting. They burst through the door and were met with a sight that seemed to suspend time, casting the room into an agonizing, silent tableau.

Sophia's limp body lay in Susana's arms, her face ghostly pale, her eyes half-open but empty, reflecting nothing of the fire she once held. Blood smeared the sheets—a thin trail leaking from the corner of her mouth, staining Susana's shaking hands.

"No... No, no, no..." Susana's voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling and choked, as if she couldn't believe the truth of what she held. Her hands gripped Sophia's lifeless shoulders, her fingers pressing deep as if, by sheer force, she could pull her sister back to life. "Sophia, wake up. Wake up!" Her sobs grew more desperate, each one tearing through her like a knife.

She clutched her sister's body tighter, rocking back and forth, her sobs mingling with broken words, her confusion and agony cutting into the air like shattered glass. "Sophia... why? Why am I... still here... but you're..." She broke into an anguished scream, the sound raw and animalistic, embodying every horror she'd been forced to endure. "They were supposed to take me, it was supposed to have been me... why isn't it me?"

Her fingers dug into Sophia's shoulders, her body shaking violently as she tried to wake her sister from a slumber that no longer held the promise of waking.

Evan arrived at the door, halting in horror as he took in the scene. His eyes locked onto Sophia, disbelief and devastation twisting his features. He staggered forward, his hand covering his mouth, his breaths coming in gasps as he processed what he was seeing. he let out a strangled, grief-stricken noise as he sank to his knees. His hands hovered over Sophia's form, fingers twitching, desperate to touch her, but paralyzed by the cruel finality of her lifelessness. His gaze turned glassy with tears, his voice trembling as he spoke, his words directed to Nate with venomous accusation. "You... this is because of you."

Nate took a step back, confusion and horror flashing across his face. "Evan, I didn't—"

But Evan's grief had turned into a blinding rage, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He rose with a choked scream, clicking franticly into his CAT, throwing a wild punch that connected with Nate's jaw, sending him stumbling with the force of both the punch and magic. "Tell me, Nate—did you actually care about any of us? Or were we all just pieces on your board?" He asks as his body glimmers with Aether Scripts being activated from his CAT.

Nate raised his hands defensively, his face darkening. "Evan, this isn't the time—"

Evan lunged at him again, landing another blow, this time to Nate's side. the force of the hit, augmented by his magic "Not the time?" he spat. "Because of you, Sophia's dead. Susana... she's barely alive, broken beyond repair. How many more will die before you're satisfied? I thought... I thought I'd finally found someone worth fighting for," he spits, his voice breaking. "But she's dead, Nate. Because of you. All of it... every single part... because you just couldn't leave fuck all alone!"

Chloe stepped forward, trying to pull Evan back, but he shoved her aside, his rage uncontainable. He was crying openly now, his voice twisted with fury and heartbreak. "All of us trusted you! I trusted you! And now... she's gone because of you, and you stand there like you feel nothing!"

Nate barely reacted, enduring each hit, his expression an unreadable mask until finally, something shifted in his eyes. When Evan's fist flew again, Nate caught it mid-air, his grip iron-tight, his face twisted in cold, barely contained fury.

Evan," he snarled, his voice deadly calm. "What the fuck?"

Evan's face twisted in disgust, wrenching his hand out of Nate's grip and backing away.

Chloe finally forced herself between them, her hand pressing against Evan's chest, her tone sharp. "Enough! This isn't helping anyone. Sophia's dead, and Susana... she needs us."

A flicker of something dark ignited in Nate's eyes, a scarlet gleam that hinted at a power hidden beneath, something ancient and violent straining against its chains. For a fraction of a second, he considered it—letting the monster loose, wiping away every shred of humanity, burning the world down. But then, just as quickly, the light in his eyes dimmed, and he took a breath, shaking off the thought.

Without a word, he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he left the accusations, the hatred, and the grief behind him.

"Run," Evan spat, his voice a mixture of venom and contempt. "Run, like the coward you are. Isn't that what monsters do?"

The academy library was silent, the high, vaulted ceilings casting a somber atmosphere over the rows of books and towering shelves. Stained-glass windows filtered the light, casting fractured colours onto the floors, a serene contrast to the turmoil in Nate's mind.

He didn't expect anyone to look for him here. He found a secluded corner, sank into a chair, and let his head fall back, his mind churning with bitterness, with doubt, with that gnawing voice that whispered of violence, vengeance.

"You certainly chose a poetic hiding place." The voice came low, smooth, with a faint undercurrent of amusement. Professor Lillian stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable, shadows dancing across his face as he observed Nate with a faint smirk.

Nate gave a dry, humourless chuckle. "Figured no one would think to look for me in a library."

Lillian tilted his head, folding his arms. "Well, you were half right." He moved closer, taking a seat across from Nate, his gaze sharp and appraising. "Care to tell me why you look ready to set the world on fire?"

For a moment, Nate hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He wasn't used to sharing, especially not with someone like Lillian, whose intentions were as shrouded as his own. But there was something about Lillian—a familiarity, a darkness that resonated, something Nate couldn't quite place but felt all the same.

"Because maybe that's all that's left for someone like me," Nate finally muttered, his voice low, strained. "Everyone's waiting for me to be a monster. I keep thinking... maybe I should just give them what they want. Maybe it'd be easier if I stopped pretending.

Lillian's gaze didn't waver, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "And what would that accomplish? Scorching the earth won't quiet the voices in your head. It'll just turn them into screams, louder than you can imagine." He leaned forward, his voice taking on an edge. "Monsters who lose themselves to their rage are forgettable, Nate. They're predictable, controllable. You'd be playing right into their hands."

Nate looked down, his fists clenched. "Then what am I supposed to do? Just let them keep tearing everything apart?"

Lillian's smirk softened into something almost... empathetic. "You're not just their pawn, Nate. The trick is making them think you're the piece they control while keeping your moves your own. Power is subtle, quiet... it whispers rather than roars."

A strange kinship settled between them, unspoken yet profound. For the first time, Nate felt a glimmer of understanding from someone else—a recognition that perhaps Lillian knew what it was like to walk the tightrope between darkness and control. He felt his tension ease, even as questions lingered in his mind about the man sitting across from him.

Lillian's gaze held a moment longer, a knowing glint in his eye. "And remember this," he murmured, almost to himself. "True monsters don't ponder if they're monsters. They just are. The fact that you're questioning it means you still have a choice."

As Lillian rose and left, Nate watched him go, a sense of clarity settling over him. He didn't have answers, but the weight on his chest felt a little lighter, his purpose a little clearer.

Nate lingered a while longer before deciding to leave. As he turned a corner to exit the library, he nearly collided with Chloe, who looked up at him with a mixture of relief and frustration.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," she said, her voice soft but direct.

Nate raised an eyebrow, surprised. "How did you find me here?"

She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I just thought about where you'd go to avoid everyone. The library was my last guess."

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Already got an earful from someone else, Chloe. Not sure I need another lecture."

Chloe's gaze softened, her voice quiet. "I'm not here to lecture. I just... wanted to check on a friend."

Her words caught him off guard, and his guard dropped for a fraction of a second. In the quiet that followed, her eyes searched his, an unspoken question hovering between them.

"Nate... did you really... are you behind any of this?"

His guard snapped back up instantly, his voice lashing out like a whip. "So that's it, then? Even you think I'm some kind of monster?"

She winced, but didn't back down. "It's not that. It's just... "I don't want to doubt you, but... everyone around me, my family... they're saying things that make me wonder. I need to hear it from you. And you survived an explosion that should've levelled the continent. I just... need to understand."

He scoffed, his voice thick with bitterness. "Fine. Here's your answer. I survived because I'm a monster. That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"

"No, it's not." Her voice softened, faltering slightly. "I don't want to believe any of it. I saw you at the hospital, after the explosion... I couldn't stop thinking about it. Seeing you go through all those tests, the way they look at you like... like you're a thing, not a person."

He looked away, his voice cold. "Stay away from me, Chloe."

She reached out, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "I don't believe you're a monster, Nate."

He didn't turn, responding to her, his words like a knife. "Doesn't matter what you fucking believe. You're a Rawllings, after all."

With that, he walked away, leaving her standing alone amidst the towering shelves, her hand falling to her side, empty.

In the stillness of the academy night, NovaMyst loomed like a fortress from an age lost to time, a place of elegance twisted with the cold, detached advancements of a world far removed from humanity. The exterior pulsed with neon lines against the dark sky, casting eerie reflections on the polished ground and towering over the city below. Each window seemed to glow with a cold blue light, a synthetic replacement for the warmth it lacked, as if the academy itself were an indifferent observer to the darkness its students grappled with.

Nate's dorm room, once starkly labelled and divided from the rest of the campus, now looked like any other. The forced integration of the Blanks, Voiders, and Marks felt hollow, a superficial effort to mask deeper prejudices and unspoken tensions. Nate moved slowly, methodically gathering his things and placing them into his bag. His movements were deliberate, each item put away as if he were shedding a part of himself, as if by packing, he could leave the weight of it all behind.

He barely noticed the passage of time, his thoughts clouded, dark. The words from earlier—the accusations, the rage, the utter conviction in Sophia's broken gaze—replayed in his mind, a constant, inescapable echo. He wondered if he was truly as monstrous as they believed, if he could ever convince anyone otherwise. And if he even wanted to. "I could end this," he thinks, his fingers tingling with latent energy. "Just a single thought, and I'd have every last one of them begging for mercy. They want me to be the monster? I'll give them one they'll never forget."

The faint sound of footsteps broke the silence and his train of thought, soft but unsteady, approaching his door. He turned, tensing, prepared to tell whoever it was to leave him alone. But when the door creaked open, revealing the figure in the dim hall light, his breath caught.

It was Susana.

She stood in the doorway, but the vibrant, confident girl he remembered was barely recognizable now. Her clothes were dishevelled, her hair falling in messy waves around her face. Dark circles clung under her eyes, and her gaze was distant, unfocused, as if she'd walked through a storm and had barely made it out. She clutched a few tissues in one hand, crumpled and stained as if they'd been clutched too tightly for too long.

Her lips parted, but no words came at first. She took a shaky breath, her gaze locking onto him, and for a moment, there was something almost raw, almost pleading in her expression.

"Nate," she said finally, her voice a ghost of its usual strength. "We... we need to talk."

And with that, everything else in Nate's mind fell silent. He nodded, watching her, knowing that whatever she had to say would hopefully be a piece of the truth he'd been so desperately searching for.