It took 15 minutes for Mohammed and Mitchell to reach the classroom. Moe’s first instinct was to check on Nami, noticing her leaning against a desk near what used to be the door. Mitchell, on the other hand, stared at the scene in shock.

They used to be good friends, him and Maze. The Big 5 used to be a group of the most influential people in the school and he was a part of it. He could never imagine their friend group ever separating with how close they were… but then came elections for the next Head Leader. Mitchell, being the police chief’s son, wanted to achieve more than his father could, to become the Royal Knight of Newark, and he knew the first step to that goal was becoming the face of Rosemary High. What he didn’t know was that his dearest friend and possible crush, Mazekien, was gunning for the same position.

So, this is how far you’ve fallen. Walking in the classroom, his eyes glued on the shell of Mazekien Schmidt, the monolith that stripped him of everything he was. He should have been rejoicing. This was, of course, the same girl who ruined his reputation. The entire reason why he had no friends. In his eyes, this was divine justice. Karma, rearing her ugly head to bring balance to all the damage she did to him.

“Fuck,” He sighed, barely able to look at her anymore. I hate you with every fiber of my being, but even I have to admit… This is way too cruel. He thought, feeling a sick sensation climb up his stomach. It was like staring at a fresh corpse.

“Nami? Nami!?” Mohammed called in the background, desperately trying to wake Nami up.

“Stop the damn shaking, you’re making it worse.” Groggy with her response, she put her hand on her head to ease the pain. Moe’s smile beamed as he pulled her in for a hug which she groaned to.

“How did you know?” Mitchell turned to Nami with tightly clenched fists. He tried to look at her, but his eyes scanned the floor as if searching for an answer. “How did you piece together that Mr. Fry would try to violate her.” Mitchell’s tone was low, shaking with rage, but not knowing who it was aimed at.

Nami half opened her eyes, looking at the rage fueled behind Mitchell’s. With a sigh, she adjusted herself to sit straight and began explaining.

“It was their behavior.” She started. “I’ve been investigating this puppeteer the day they threatened to get Mohammed expelled, but even after partnering with you and Moe coming back to school, they didn’t act up until Maze’s return became public.” Mitchell thought about it for a bit before asking.

“So, you think that whoever the puppeteer is, has their eyes dead set on Mazekien?”

“Not only that, but whatever they have against Mazekien is personal. Going beyond just gunning for her position. Whoever is doing this, wants to destroy everything she is and represents.” A cold shiver went down Mitchell’s spine. He hated the fact that he could relate to the puppeteer’s goals. Maybe that’s what he was searching for, somebody to point all his anger at. But even though the Puppeteer was a clear target, his fury burned for something greater than that.

Now that I think of it, everything that happened to her today. From the moment she walked into these gates, has been a perfectly orchestrated scandal, one built specifically for her. And that attack on Moe with Bastien, that was just to throw us off the scent.

Having put it all together he had only one question lingering on his mind.

“They’re in the Surveillance room, we need to get there before they get away.” Nami said, answering Mitchell’s mental question. Moe’s eyes locked on the camera placed on the other corner of the classroom.

“They’ll be trying to download the footage right about now, so we should get there before---” Nami tried to get up before being forced back down by a strong hand on her shoulder.

“You need to stay here; we’ll go there on our own.” Mohammed demanded.

“But I---”

“But nothing! If you strain your leg any further, then you might not be able to heal from it again.” Mohammed cut Nami off, seeing the desperate frustration in her face. He knelt beside her, his hand still on her shoulder.

“It’s here, isn’t it?” Moe pulled Nami’s pant leg up, revealing the large surgical scar climbing from her shin, and going just past her knee.

“Scars get worse if you strain them too much, Nami. If you join the fight, then you might never fight again.” Moe held Nami’s glare, keeping the concerned look he had on him while tracing the scar with his finger. Nami could feel tears threatening to escape her eyes. As mad as she felt, she knew he was right.

She slumped back to the floor in defeat, looking to the ceiling to not let the tears go against her.

“I need you to have faith in me for this one. We’ll catch the puppeteer before he gives us the slip.” Moe gave her a smile, but her vision was too blurred to see it. Even so, she felt the warmth in his voice and with that she took a deep breath and looked at them with her teary eyes.

“You’re going up against a Mage Mohammed, but you can’t use your Magic on them. If you get caught, then you’ll be labeled as a threat and taken out.” She turned to Mitchell, her eyes burning with the same determination in his.

“Kick their ass for me, but don’t get possessed. The more emotionally vulnerable you are, the easier it is for them to possess you.” Nami instructed. Both nodded before beaming for the surveillance room.

Mitchell led the way, knowing exactly where it was, and being driven by the rage built up in him. The school corridors were quiet with only the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the walls. The air was cool and still, with the soft orange lighting of the lamps illuminating their path. They ran up a few stairs before coming across the surveillance room that was near the roof exit. The first warning flag Mitchell noted was that the door wasn’t locked. Signaling Mohammed to remain silent, Mitchell gripped the nob.

“Calm down.” Moe demanded, feeling the anger radiating off him. Mitchell was about to protest, but Nami’s words returned to him. He had to stay calm, else he’d jeopardize their mission. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Hunched over they snuck in, softening every step they took. It was dark inside, with the blue light of the monitors being the only thing illuminating the room. One security guard sat stationed in front of them. Another warning flag, as there was supposed to be two for every shift. Mitchell snuck up to them, hesitating once he was close enough, but then he sighed.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“This one is out cold.” He announced, the hum of the monitors and the slow breathing of the unconscious guard were enough to breed suspicion in both of them. The cold air of the room mixed with the electrical scent made them hesitate every breath they took, but after this long pause Moe straightened himself.

“Do you think they got away?” Moe asked. Mitchell thought about it as he examined the room until he noticed the camera for Mr. Fry’s class was stuck on loop. He went to the keyboard and began examining the monitors’ history and noticed that it had just recently been placed on that loop.

“They haven’t gotten far, we can still---” He turned to see a security guard with his gun at the ready.

“Don’t you dare make a move, what did you do to my partner!?” He asked, his gun held steady at them. Mitchell was about to speak up before Moe silenced him.

“What’s the number one sign that someone is possessed?” Moe asked and Mitchell quickly caught on. The guard was wearing shades, but they couldn’t hide from Moe’s eyes.

“We know what you are, so it’s best to drop the act.” Moe’s eyes began to glow and the guards gun melted from the inside, burning his hands. He dropped the gun and Mitchell took that as his signal to attack, but for some reason his body remained petrified where he stood.

“I’m surprised you two could catch on so quick. Maybe Nami’s lapdogs aren’t as dumb as I thought.” The security guard started, taking off his shades to reveal his grey eyes.

“What the fuck is this, I can’t move!” Mitchell shouted as he tried his hardest to get his body to move, but even the slightest movements were rendered still. His eyes turned to Moe who seemed to be in the same predicament. They were trapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mitch, but your body is mine.” The guard walked up to Mitchell and his body stood straight against his will. He gritted his teeth to gain some semblance of control back to his body, but to no avail. Every step the guard took towards him made him feel like ice was being drawn up his spine, their smile wide in amusement. “I forget how cute you can be when you panic, all that muscle and yet there’s nothing you could do.” The guard’s hand brushed his cheek. “Can I… kiss you.” They said in a sensually low tone, but before the guard’s lips could touch his, Moe punched him hard enough to back him off. Magic that weak can’t hold down a Royal Mage, guess I can thank my old man for that. Moe finally understood what Nami meant about not using magic, as long as it wasn’t visible he could counter the Puppeteer’s.

The guard balanced on the worktable with coffee and a few files, holding his nose as it began to bleed. Knowing that he couldn’t take them on his own, Moe quickly dispelled the magic petrifying Mitchell, and he didn’t hesitate to land a 3 part combo on the guard. Landing a slap on the face that led to a palm to the chest and a jumping back kick that sent him flying through the worktable.

Mitchell dived on him readying a palm to finish him, but his eyes locked with the guards, and he felt himself being pulled in by them.

“Poor Mitch, trying so hard to be a hero. Last I checked heroes save those they care about, too bad the same isn’t true for you.” The possessed guard teased.

Suddenly he saw himself in a collapsing building. He was disoriented by the sudden shift, but he knew he had to get out. Smoke began filling his lungs as fire erupted on the walls. He jumped out the window and landed outside the burning house, a glass shard digging into his arm. He winced at the pain, but only then did he realize that he was reliving an old memory. The roaring flames that ate away at the wooden foundations of his old home caused a chill to run down his spine as he tried his hardest to deny seeing it. This can’t be real. It shouldn’t be! He denied all of it… Until he saw… him.

Aha’med Binyam, walking through the flames with a demonic smile on his face. He saw them, the same cold eyes he saw that froze him amidst the fiery hell he was in. Mitchell’s breath caught in his throat, his heartbeat racing violently in his chest. He wanted to run, he wanted to get away, but His body stayed frozen on the spot.

Aha’med readied his hand, a red, fiery glow emanating from it before a tackle pushed him to safety. A large boom echoed, vibrating his intestines. He was safe, but who… that’s when he remembered.

His savior picked themselves up to reveal the half-burnt face of his father, one eye staring back at him in anger, while the other hung on its socket. The smell of burnt flesh was nauseating, and he could feel the warm blood dripping on his cheeks.

“This is all your fault!” His father shouted.

In the real-world, Mitchell still had the guard pinned under him, but it looked as if the guard had stopped moving. Moe got ready to interrogate them, thinking that Mitchell had successfully subdued him, but before he could get a word out Mitchell pounced on him and tackled him out the surveillance room. His eyes, grey. Moe was confused. When did it happen? From his perspective Mitchell had just pinned the guard, so when did it happen?

In his confusion Moe was flipped over his head, his back slamming against the floor before he was brought back on his feet, his head being used to smash through the window that was 4 stories up.

The cold and heavy winds could’ve easily pushed him around, but Mitchell’s tight grip on his throat held him steady. Making his breathing more arduous by the second. With the situation getting more desperate Moe knew that he had to use magic or risk passing out, but Nami’s words caused conflict in the young Mage. I’m sorry, Nami. He thought, his eyes glowing a vibrant amber.

Nami dived in with a flying kick that landed square on Mitchell’s face, saving Moe from his imminent doom. Moe quickly inhaled, his lungs burning with every breath. He was still conscious, but everything was blurry, and his head was bleeding. The only thing that came to focus was her face.

“You idiot.” He heaved out, his voice dry and raspy. “I thought I told you to stay put.” He reprimanded.

“Well tough shit, I’m here now, so deal with it.” She argued. Moe coughed as she helped him up. He still had a lot to say to her but catching his breath was a priority. They both faced the possessed Mitchell as he recovered from the attack.

“So, what now?” Moe asked.

“Now,” Nami started, before falling on her knees. “We’re screwed.” Nami said as her right leg gave out. Moe turned to her with panic in his eyes.

“What do you mean we’re screwed!?”

“Mitchell’s a Rivercaller. I used all I had left to save you, and you can’t use magic. We’re screwed, but…” Nami turned to her opponent. “So are they.” Mitchell lunged at them, going after a panicked Mohammed. Slipping past his guard he delivered a palm that blew the wind out his lungs and then a slap to the face to knock him out.

Nami relaxed herself as Mitchell pounced on her and held her down in a mount.

“Any last words, BlackSilver?” Mitchell readied his palm to finish the job, but his hand remained stationary. It shook against his control as his grey eyes began to regain their color.

“Looks like you’re out of time,” A sadistic smile painted itself across Nami’s face and in a swift movement she pulled Mitchell close, getting him off balance before swinging him to the other side and pinning him face first on the floor. He tried to push himself up but Nami put her knee on the back of his neck.

“Mana sickness is a real bitch ain’t it? Has the bleeding begun? Or are you still suffering from the skull splitting migraines?” Nami brushed her fingers across his ear as she began to whisper. “As long as you get out of there before your body disfigures then it doesn’t matter now does it?” She grabbed a fist full of Mitchell’s hair pulling him up so that his ear was a few inches from her lips.

“But before you go, I want you to heed my words. I know who you are, “Puppeteer”, and I will… catch you.” She released Mitchell’s hair, watching him regain control of his body. She climbed off him, giving a last sigh of relief. Water-God style is less physically taxing than Wind-God, but even so…. She chuckled to herself before collapsing on the floor. that still was a gamble. Nami could feel her consciousness slipping, but she wasn’t worried. Though the 3 of them were barely conscious she knew that they’d look after her.

Moe and Aldred are going to chew me out for this later, but I don’t mind. At the end of the day, nobody died. Nami closed her eyes and allowed her exhaustion to take over.