The pounding of footsteps echoed through the winding corridors of NovaMyst as Nate and Anton sprinted towards the central broadcast area. Faculty members and a few students, their faces pale with dread, hurried in their wake, casting anxious glances at one another. Every step felt like a countdown, each second slipping through their fingers as they raced to reach Susana.

They burst into the central broadcast chamber, an imposing, cathedral-like room filled with soft blue light filtering through stained-glass windows. Massive holographic screens lined the walls, flickering with fragments of Susana's broadcast. Suspended above them, her ghostly, holographic face lingered—a haunting, half-frozen image of anguish.

In the centre of the room, Susana lay sprawled on the floor, her small form disturbingly still against the cold, stone surface.

"Susana!" Nate dropped to his knees beside her, pressing two fingers to her neck, his jaw clenched. His hand trembled slightly as he waited for something—anything—a pulse, a twitch, a flicker of breath. But her skin was cold, her chest unmoving.

His gaze whipped up, locking onto Anton. "Can you do what you did before? Like with the Mark students. Bring her back."

Anton's eyes were cold, unreadable. "Nate, I can't just pull that out whenever I feel like it. That kind of magic isn't a tool—it's... something I can only use sparingly, with preparation, and only under specific conditions. What I did before wasn't simple. There are costs."

Nate's fist clenched, the helplessness clawing at him, stirring the darkness that had been gnawing at him since his loss of control with Elysia.

Suddenly, the sound of rushed footsteps echoed down the hall, and Elysia and Irina appeared, their faces stricken with fear and urgency. Elysia knelt beside Susana, her heterochromatic eyes quickly assessing her condition, her hands hovering over the girl's chest and neck, taking in the faint, almost imperceptible magical traces in her system.

"She's not gone—not yet," Elysia said, her voice tight but focused. "There's something... laced in whatever she drank. Aether-infused. If we can stop the Aether Script, maybe we can reverse this."

Anton's jaw tightened. "That's delicate work. One wrong move, and the script could destabilize or intensify."

Irina stepped forward, drawing a deep breath as she extended her hands, activating her Generalized CAT to conjure a shimmer of white-ice Aetherium around her fingers. "Chrono-Stasis," she murmured, concentrating. A faint layer of frost spread over Susana's body, freezing her in time as a delicate crystalline cocoon formed around her. Irina's face was taut with strain, but her hands remained steady. "This will hold her... for now."

Nate exhaled sharply, the faintest glimmer of hope stirring within him as he gathered Susana's frail, frozen form into his arms. A sharp pang of hunger lanced through him, the dark, aching need that had been lurking ever since his outburst, but he forced it down, shoving it into a dark corner of his mind. He focused instead on the girl's weight in his arms, on her fragile heartbeat suspended in stasis.

"Let's go," he said, his voice hard, steady. Elysia moved beside him, her expression worried as she saw the strain etched across his face. "You sure you can handle this?"

"Doesn't matter if I can or can't," he replied tightly. "We're getting her out of here."

Elysia nodded, keeping her gaze on him a second longer, her eyes unreadable. Then she turned, leading the way out of the broadcast chamber.

Behind them, Anton and Irina kept pace, both scanning for any signs of disturbance. As they reached the open courtyard, they were greeted by a crowd of faculty and students, all craning their necks, murmuring among themselves. The rumours had already begun to spiral, fear and morbid curiosity crackling in the air.

Just as they neared the infirmary doors, Kenneth Blackburn, Master of Ceremonies, stepped into their path, his posture stiff, a faint sneer pulling at his lips. "I trust that the council is enjoying the 'progress' it's bringing to NovaMyst. Nearly-dead students and scandalous broadcasts—hardly the hallmarks of a successful initiative."

Chloe, who had caught up with them, stepped forward, a steely defiance in her gaze. "What happened to Susana was a result of this academy's negligence and the toxic environment it permits, not the council's actions."

Blackburn's eyes narrowed; his tone laced with barely contained disdain. "Negligence? Or recklessness? Stirring emotions, they barely understand—this is the result." His gaze flicked over Nate, his lips curling further. "And you, Mr. Davis. Always at the centre of these disturbances, aren't you? For someone so quick to condemn the Marks, you're quite adept at inciting chaos."

Nate's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as the anger and hunger pulsed together, dangerously close to merging. He forced himself to stand his ground, the mocking gleam in Blackburn's eyes twisting like a knife in his gut.

Before he could respond, Elysia stepped forward, her voice cold and cutting. "What we expect, Blackburn, is to be given the chance to change the conditions that led to this tragedy in the first place. Your precious hierarchy has pushed students to their breaking points and shattered them, yet you have the audacity to blame those who want to fix it."

Blackburn's gaze flicked to Elysia, a hint of warning in his eyes. "You and the Arundel family are treading dangerously close to insubordination, Miss Arundel. Be mindful of your words."

Elysia's jaw clenched, the fire in her gaze mirroring Nate's own. "Respectfully, Blackburn, I don't give a fuck. Maybe it's time NovaMyst respected all its students, not just the ones who meet your twisted standards."

The crowd around them gasped, tension thickening as the faculty members watched, stunned by her defiance. Blackburn's face twisted in disdain, but he managed a condescending smile. "Very well. But know this: if this chaos continues, your council will bear every consequence. NovaMyst will not shield you."

With a mocking nod, he turned on his heel, his entourage following him out in tense silence, leaving the room charged with the weight of his threat.

Nate rushes past everyone to the inside of the infirmary and reluctantly lowers Susana onto the infirmary bed as the healers descended, their Restricted CAT's glowing with faint pulses of Aetherium. He watched, the sense of helplessness clawing at him as they began their work, stabilizing her, the shimmer of magic casting soft glows over her still form.

After a tense moment, Anton spoke up. "We did what we could. Now... we wait."

Elysia, who had been silent until now, finally looked at Nate. Her expression was unreadable, a mixture of frustration, relief, and something deeper, something he couldn't quite place. "Are you alright?"Nate met her gaze, and for a moment, he wanted to tell her everything—to spill the turmoil that had been clawing at him ever since he'd lost control. But instead, he nodded curtly, holding her gaze a moment too long. "Yeah. Fine."Elysia's eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced, but before she could press him, Chloe spoke.

Chloe exhaled slowly, a steely determination settling over her features. "We're not backing down," she said, her voice steady. "Not after this. They want to make us responsible? Fine. But we'll do it our way."

Nate met her gaze, a grim determination hardening in his eyes. "Then we'll make fucking sure they regret letting us handle it."

Beside him, Anton's gaze lingered on Susana's still form, his expression distant but resolved. "If we want to dismantle the system that allowed this to happen, we'll need to be ready for whatever comes next."

Elysia reached out, resting a hand on Nate's arm. But the moment she touched him, a jolt of searing pain shot through him, like molten fire coursing through his veins. He sucked in a sharp breath, recoiling, his face contorting in agony as he clutched his arm.

Elysia pulled her hand back, her eyes widening in shock and something else—a flicker of understanding mingled with regret. "Nate... I—" She couldn't finish, her gaze caught between confusion and the weight of an unspoken apology.

He took a step back, shaking his head. "I... I need to go." His voice was barely above a whisper, strained, raw. Without another word, he turned and left the room, each step weighted with the invisible chains of their bond, a reminder of the distance Elysia had placed between them.

As the door closed behind him, Elysia watched in silence, a feeling of emptiness settling over her. She clenched her hand, the ghost of his pain lingering on her fingertips, and for a fleeting moment, she felt the walls she'd built around her heart tremble. But she forced herself to turn away, pushing the feeling down, knowing she couldn't afford to be vulnerable—not now.

Anton watched them both, his analytical gaze picking up on the tension, the unspoken pain hanging in the air. He exchanged a look with Chloe, a silent agreement between them: whatever fractures remained, they'd find a way to hold everything together, even if it meant navigating through the broken pieces.

Chloe found herself standing outside Nate's dorm, her hand hovering just shy of the door. She'd never seen him like he was in the infirmary, the haunted look on his face as he'd recoiled from Elysia's touch, and something in her gut told her he was struggling in a way he didn't want anyone to see. With a quiet breath, she knocked.

"Come in," came his voice, rougher than usual.

She pushed the door open, and there he was—sitting on the edge of his bed, his posture tense, hands clenched, his head hanging low. His entire body seemed taut, like he was holding something in check. He didn't look up as she stepped in, just stayed where he was, eyes fixed on the floor, a dark shadow across his features.

"Nate... you alright?" Chloe kept her tone light, careful, though the concern was clear in her eyes. "That scene back there was... intense."

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He didn't respond immediately, but she could see the muscle in his jaw working as if he were forcing himself to hold back whatever was coiled up inside him. After a moment, he looked up, giving her a forced, almost bitter smile.

"Just a fight, that's all," he said, dismissing it with a wave. "Me and Elysia... She's the Lady, I'm the Knight. That's all it is. Nothing more." There was a hardness in his voice, a finality that dared her to challenge him. "But yeah, I messed up. I hurt her." He looked away, and his tone dropped. "And it's... taking everything not to do more damage. Not to... just break everything around me."

She frowned, leaning against the door, studying him. She could feel the weight of what he wasn't saying, the restraint like an invisible chain around him. "It's not just about that fight, is it?" she asked, her voice soft, searching. "You look like you're fighting off something else. Something... bigger."

He didn't answer, but his fists clenched tighter, the knuckles white. Chloe crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "Look, I know how much you want to protect her, Nate. I see it. But... maybe there's more to it? Maybe something you don't want to admit, even to yourself?"

Nate's eyes darkened. "There's nothing more than duty, Chloe. I serve her—that's all. If I screwed up, it's because I'm still adjusting to... being here." He forced a bitter laugh. "Human bodies are... harder to control than you'd think."

She raised an eyebrow, the puzzle pieces shifting in her mind, though they didn't yet form a clear picture. Instead, she allowed herself to take in his vulnerability for a moment, her expression softening. "Well, you're handling it better than most people would, honestly. I mean..." She gave a small shrug, almost laughing. "If I were you, I'd probably be losing it."

He looked at her, a faint flicker of respect in his gaze. "Don't know how you do it, to be honest. Managing the council, dealing with this goddamn academy, and somehow not breaking even once. You're... stronger than you let on."

Chloe chuckled, though it was hollow, her gaze drifting to the floor. "You think so?" She shook her head, a touch of sadness slipping into her voice. "I don't even know how I do it, Nate. Half the time, I'm just... putting one foot in front of the other, pretending I have it all together. But there are days... a lot of days, where it feels like I'm just some... Rawlling doll. Moving around, doing what I'm told, following their rules without any real say in any of it."

Nate frowned, sensing the weariness in her voice. "The Rawllings make life that hard, huh?"

Chloe gave a bitter smile. "Being born into the number one family isn't as great as it sounds. They expect everything, control everything. Every move, every choice... even who I'm supposed to be with." She laughed softly, but it was humourless. "Sometimes, I wonder if there's anything left of me in here, or if I'm just... some well-programmed Aether Script. Moving around like they've decided I should."

Nate was silent, absorbing her words, his gaze softening. He could see her struggle, the cracks in the perfect image she showed everyone. Despite her strength, her charisma, her influence, there was something undeniably fragile about her in that moment—a vulnerability she rarely let anyone see. It reminded him of his own burdens, his own chains, though hers were far less visible.

"Chloe," he said quietly, "you're... not just a doll to them. You're more than what they're trying to mold you into. I don't think they could understand even half of what you're capable of."

She met his gaze, a trace of gratitude in her eyes. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice laced with a kind of tentative hope. "But it's hard to believe that when every step you take feels like it's on a set path. Like there's this... script I'm supposed to follow, and if I deviate, it all falls apart."

He shook his head. "Maybe that's why you're in the council. Maybe you're here to change the damn script, rip it apart, rewrite it however you want."

A faint smile played on her lips as she looked at him, something soft, almost wistful in her gaze. "You think I can do that?"

"I know you can," he said, his voice firm. "If anyone can break free of all that bullshit, it's you."

For a moment, they were both silent, something unspoken passing between them. Chloe's smile lingered, her gaze holding his a little too long, a flicker of something in her eyes that was more than just gratitude.

"Nate..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper, but before she could say more, the door creaked slightly, and they both turned, catching sight of a familiar figure in the doorway.

Elysia stood there, her face a careful mask, though Nate could see the flicker of something in her eyes—something guarded, almost hurt. Her gaze drifted from him to Chloe, taking in the closeness between them, the unspoken connection that lingered in the air.

"Am I... interrupting?" she asked, her voice cool, controlled, though Nate could hear the slight edge in it.

Chloe quickly stepped back, clearing her throat. "No, no. I was just... checking in on him. After... everything." She glanced at Nate, her face softening, but only slightly, before she brushed past Elysia and left, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

For a moment, Nate and Elysia stood in silence, an uncomfortable tension filling the room. Finally, Elysia spoke, her voice low, her gaze fixed on him.

"We need to talk."

Elysia lingered in the doorway, her gaze unwavering as she took in Nate's tense figure, his jaw clenched as he looked away from her, fists still tight from the conversation he'd had with Chloe. The air between them was thick with the unresolved conflict they'd both tried to ignore, but there was no more room for avoidance. Elysia closed the door quietly behind her, the click reverberating through the small space.

"You said we needed to talk," Nate said, breaking the silence, his tone colder than he intended.

"Yes, we do." Her voice was calm but edged with an undeniable strain. She crossed her arms, her eyes searching his face, assessing him. "You've been... different. Ever since Susana, ever since... everything."

"Different?" He gave a hollow laugh, avoiding her gaze. "Guess that's one way of putting it."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Nate." She took a step closer, her voice softening slightly, but her stance remained guarded. "I know you. I know what it looks like when you're holding something back."

Nate clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. "And you think you can just fix it with one conversation? This isn't something you can just command away, Elysia."

She flinched slightly, but her expression hardened. "Maybe not. But you haven't exactly given me a chance to try, have you? One minute you're my knight, and the next you're... you're like a stranger." Her voice caught, and she looked away, visibly wrestling with the frustration and hurt simmering beneath her composure. "You told me you'd be there. And now I don't even know who you are."

Nate exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of guilt and frustration. "You're the one who told me to fucking stay away, commanded me even, and thus I did milady." He says bowing, but in a way that was mocking.

Nate's mocking bow struck a nerve, and Elysia's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as the tension between them escalated. She forced herself to hold her ground, but her voice rose, her frustration spilling over.

"You think this is funny, Nate? You're acting like I asked you to just... disappear! And yet, when I finally come to talk to you, you twist my words like this?"

Nate straightened, his gaze hardening, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, forgive me, milady. But I'm only following orders, right? That's what I'm here for, after all. To be the obedient, silent knight. Nothing more." He shook his head, bitterness lacing his tone. "So don't act so surprised when I did exactly what you asked."

Elysia took a step back, her throat tightening. "It's not that simple, Nate. You terrified me. I've never seen you like that before! I... I looked at you, and for the first time, I didn't even know who you were." She paused, the words catching in her throat as she forced herself to continue. "When you lost control, it was like... like you weren't even you anymore. You were I don't know—"

"Dangerous?" Nate interrupted, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the air. "What, Elysia? You think I'm some kind of monster now?"

Her lips trembled, her fists clenching at her sides as she forced herself to meet his gaze. "You're putting words in my mouth! I never said that."

"You didn't have to say it," he snapped, his voice raw. "You looked at me like I was something to be afraid of, like I was some... some demon." He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Which, I guess, shouldn't be a surprise, should it? That's what I am, after all. A convenient tool for the Arundels, bound and leashed."

Elysia's face flushed, anger sparking in her eyes. "You think this is just about you being a demon? You think I care about that? You're acting like I don't know who you are, but maybe you're the one who's forgotten who I am."

"Then what was it, Elysia?" He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "If it wasn't that, then what was it? Because as far as I can tell, you've barely looked at me since. You couldn't even stand to be around me."

Her gaze dropped for a moment, and her voice softened, frustration mingling with a trace of guilt. "You don't understand. When I looked at you... with my true sight... I didn't just see you. I saw... everything." She closed her eyes, the memory sharp, vivid. "The Aetherium around you, the scripts, the sheer... raw power that would have, and to be honest I don't even think your body would have been able to handle it, since when I looked at your Aetherium core it seems like there is a Aether Script that limits how much power you can handle. So when I saw that I—" Her voice caught, and she struggled to push the words out. "It would have killed me, Nate. It would have dismantled me completely, down to the last piece of my being. It wasn't just a threat. It was like... like death, staring me in the face."

Nate froze, his expression shifting as the weight of her words sank in. The anger on his face faltered, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. "Elysia... I didn't... I didn't realize..."

"And that's what terrified me." She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. "In that moment, I thought of every warning my father ever gave me. Every time he told me that you were dangerous, that you would turn on us one day, and for the first time... I believed him." Her hands shook slightly, and she looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Nate. I shouldn't have run. I shouldn't have doubted you like that. But I'd never seen you lose control like that, and I didn't know what to do. I thought..."

Nate took a slow, unsteady breath, the anger slipping from his face as he watched her, the vulnerability in her voice cutting through his frustration. "You thought you'd be safer if I wasn't around. That I might actually... hurt you." He looked away, a bitter edge creeping back into his tone. "Guess that's the monster in me, after all."

"No, Nate," she said firmly, her voice wavering with a mixture of frustration and regret. "You're not a monster. I was wrong to run. I know that now. After seeing what you did for Susana, the lengths you went to, I realize... you're more than whatever scripts I saw around you." She forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes bright with conviction. "You're more than a weapon, more than some... demon bound to my family. You're my friend. And I... I didn't trust you the way I should have."

Nate's expression softened, a flicker of hurt lingering in his gaze. "Then why does it still feel like there's a wall between us? Like you're still holding back, even now?"

"Because I don't know how to fix this!" She threw her hands up, frustration spilling over. "I don't know how to undo what I saw. It's one thing to say I trust you, but it's another to ignore the fear that hit me that day. I saw... everything, Nate. Every dark part of you, every force you've been holding back." She took a deep breath, her voice quieter, raw. "But I'm trying. I'm here because I want to try."

He watched her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers, the weight of her words settling over him. "So where does that leave us, then?" he asked quietly, his voice stripped of the bitterness, replaced by a quiet vulnerability he rarely allowed to show. "Do you still want me here? Or am I just something you tolerate because I'm bound to you?"

Elysia's face softened, and she stepped closer, reaching out to him, her hand hovering just shy of his arm. "No, Nate. I want you here. I want you to stay. I know I haven't... been fair to you. I've let fear get in the way, and I let my father's words get in my head." She met his gaze, her voice steady, unwavering. "But I know better now. You're not a monster, and you're not just some tool for the Arundels. You're... you're Nate. My friend. My knight. And I was a fool to think otherwise."

He looked down at her hand, hesitating before he finally took it, the tension in his body easing as her warmth settled over him. "Then don't run again," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "I can't... I can't keep doing this if you're going to keep pulling away."

She nodded, her grip tightening around his hand. "I won't. I promise."

For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears lingering between them, but slowly, a sense of understanding settling over the space between them. It wasn't perfect, and it didn't erase the pain, but it was enough—a tentative truce, a chance to rebuild what had nearly been lost.