Not a single thing stirred in the Brode's dining hall as Cobalt faced his student. With no more illusions to hide behind, Whitney stood before him, staring right into his eyes. Her own visible eye was ringed with sleeplessness, and she looked pale. Her ears had drooped; a surefire indicator of her dour mood.

"... It's just you here, right?" she asked, glancing around.

Cobalt followed her gaze, peering at the motionless clones standing all around them. Now that the jig was up, they all stood stock-still, flickering like a skipping VCR tape.

"Yeah. It's just us here," the Incubus responded.

"Everyone else is..."

"Outside somewhere, I'd imagine."

Whitney's shoulders slumped, causing the hook on her right hand to slowly ease open.

"Right..."

She took a deep breath.

"So what now?" she asked again, glancing back at the Incubus.

He sighed and wiped his salt-slicked hand on his jacket. The illusory tuxedo shimmered and faded, returning his usual clothes to him.

"Well, the only thing you can do is end this illusion, find your family and-"

"What if I don't want to?"

Eyes widening, he looked back at Whitney. She was staring at the floor, her fist clenched tightly.

"What if I'd rather stay here, where I'm not being pulled in, like, a billion different directions?" she continued, her voice low and bitter.

Electricity continued to crackle across the Nymph, spurring Cobalt to take a step back.

"Whitney-"

"Which did you like more?"

"Wh- What...?"

"Lady Whitney or Madam Brode; which did you like more?!" she cried, her brow furrowing.

A web of lightning ran across her skin, growing more volatile as the seconds passed. The Nymph's hair began to twitch and glow as the scent of ozone filled the air. Fearing a second outburst, Cobalt raised his hands and shook his head.

"Neither."

"Bullshit! I've seen how everyone is with you; one of them had to strike your fancy!"

"What does it matter what I like, Whitney?"

"Because I can't afford to have you abandon me! Mommy and Daddy I can handle, maybe even Gulliver too, but without you, sir... I'm nothing!" she cried, tears welling at the corner of her eye.

Shaking his head, Cobalt swallowed hard and stepped towards her, feeling the hairs stand up across his body as static electricity filled the air. The shimmering illusions all around them began to flicker more violently.

"That... That's not true, alright?"

"It is! You're the only one who's stood by me, sir! B- But now, with this...!" she choked, raising up her prosthesis.

She clicked the hook a few times, her jaw clenching tighter as sparks played off the metal.

"... I'm a fucking freak, sir. Everything else said about me I can suffer, but I am never gonna live this down. And neither is anyone close to me," the Nymph guttered, her remain fist shaking.

"Whitney-!"

"No! There's no talking your way around this! My fucking hand is gone, sir! It's gone! A- And it still hurts! It hurts so fucking much!"

Collapsing to her knees, she broke down into tears, lightning flashing off her skin with each laboured sob. Cobalt tried to rush to her side, but he could only get within a few inches of her before the stinging electricity grew too much to bear.

"They wanna lock me away in here! 'Homeschooling so I can adjust better!' It's bullshit, sir! It's bullshit! They just wanna turn me into their perfect golden child again, like they always have! But even then I'll never be that! Because the perfect princess Whitney Brode doesn't have a fucking hook hand!"

A rumble of thunder rocked the entire building as Whitney struck her prosthesis off the floor.

"... I'm an embarrassment, sir. Always have been, but I can't hide it anymore. At least here... I can meet at least some expectations," she murmured.

Cobalt got down onto both knees, attempting to meet Whitney's eye level. The latent static in the air was almost too much to bear.

"You're not an embarrassment, Whitney. Your family... They're just in a tough position. They want what's best for you, they just haven't figured out what that is yet," he told her, reaching forward.

She shook her head and pulled away, prompting him to sigh and sit on the floor just in front of her.

"I know it's tough, and I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But you can't stay here forever. Maintaining an illusion like this isn't feasible. Any longer and you'll burn out."

Stolen story; please report.

"I'd rather burn out than lose all my friends again..."

Cobalt's brow furrowed.

"That's nonsense and you know it. Karazelle and the rest did not leave your side since you were hospitalised, and they have been waiting for you with bated breath since," he told her in a stern voice.

Whitney scoffed.

"Right, yeah, sure. I'm sure they miss their tagalong," she mumbled.

"What? Whitney, nobody thinks of you as-!"

"Yes they do! And you do too; I can see it in your eyes!"

Climbing to her feet, Whitney bore down upon him with bared teeth.

"I'm always second best, aren't I?!" she snapped suddenly.

She was getting agitated, causing the illusions to spark and flash just as she was. The static electricity in the air grew almost unbearable.

"I'm not strong like Izzbelle, or smart like Jelli, or hot like Karazelle! I'm perfectly fucking average, and everyone knows it! I'm everyone's last choice! Only good for pointing and laughing! And to think I thought I had a chance!" choked the Nymph, wiping her eyes with the plastic forearm of her prosthesis.

Rising off the floor, Cobalt tried to get closer to her, but at that moment, Whitney lashed out.

"O- Ocov et! Amra ilobaid!" she cried, raising her left hand.

A lengthy bolt of lightning sprouted from the palm of her hand, crackling and growing in length as she wrapped her fingers tight around it. The bolt solidified into a shaft of pure gold, forming a lustrous Golden Spear. With a grunt of exertion, Whitney tucked the end of the spear beneath her arm as she swung the pointed end at Cobalt. He staggered back, bending out of the way as the jagged spear tip cut through the air before him.

"... Get out," she breathed, sparks flashing from within her hood.

Her grip on the weapon was shaky and uncertain, but her eyes were aglow with confused frustration.

"Whit-!"

"Get out, sir! Just go! Let me live my life in here, and you can go back to living your best life!" she cried, her voice growing crackly and distorted.

Taking a deep breath, Cobalt rose to his full height.

"We're gonna have to put her down, aren't we?" Lilith sighed.

Not if he could help it. He still believed in sorting things out peacefully, no matter what.

"I'm not leaving, Whitney," he said slowly and calmly.

Shifting her Golden Spear into a reverse grip, the Nymph shrieked and lunged at him, piercing the head clean through the floorboards as he swerved out of the way, scattering chips of broken wood everywhere. She pulled it out with a grunt, her entire body shuddering as she gasped for breath.

"Neither am I," she spat.

"She's lost it."

She was still outbursting. Whitney was so confused by despair and confusion that she couldn't rightly know what she was saying. He couldn't expect her to be rational. But he tried to reason with her regardless.

"Did you ever care about me, sir?" she breathed, leaning against her weapon.

He raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the question.

"What...?"

"Were you every really my friend? Or did you just feel bad for ruining my life that day?"

Cobalt's eyes widened.

"Wh- Whitney, all I did was try to help you find yourself."

"And look what that did to me! You ruined everything! I lost my friends! The love of my family! My future! All because you had to give me that tiny little bit of hope that I could be something different! I never should have listened to you!"

Gripping her Golden Spear tightly, the Nymph screamed and flung it at Cobalt like a javelin, forcing the Incubus to dive to the floor in order to avoid impalement. The weapon struck the wall far behind him, leaving erratic scorch marks all over the wall paper. Stomping her foot, Whitney summoned another spear into her hand as the old one burst apart in a flash of lightning.

"I'm not stupid, sir. I know how this goes. Someone outbursts, you rush in to 'save' them, and they wind up becoming the latest in your gang of lovesick maidens. Is that what you're hoping for? Is this just some kind of, like, ego trip for you?" she hissed spitefully.

"She's insecure," Lilith commented, prompting Cobalt to frown.

No. Something about the way she said that didn't sit right with him. Her voice was harsher, almost unnaturally so. Like she was forcing it.

She was trying to turn him off helping her. Self-destruction masked as revulsion.

"Whitney. You and the others are my students, and my friends besides. Of course I'm going to do what I can to help, but this has nothing to do with ego. I just want what's best for you," he answered.

"I'm a Nymph, sir! I know all about this kinda shit! You do something to make yourself feel good, then come up with all sorts of goody-two-shoe explanations to make yourself feel even better! Y- You're no better than me when we first met!" Whitney cried, lifting the Golden Spear.

Gripping the haft with her prosthesis, Whitney thrust it towards the Incubus in an effort to run him through. Missing her first strike, she tried again and again, pushing him back with every missed pierce. Biting his lip, Cobalt took a second to time her attacks, stepping in at the last second to grab the spear before it could strike his chest. A shock ran through him, but he kept his grip.

"You're my friend. Not some charity case," the Incubus said, tightening his grip on the weapon.

"You pity me. Everyone does. Even Gulliver."

Cobalt took a deep breath.

"No. Whitney, you've been the one person I could rely on throughout my time at B.I.D., no matter what. The others have had their moments of weakness - just as I have -but you... you've never let me down. Not once."

Saying that gave her pause.

"... Is that what gets them?" she breathed after a moment.

"No, Whitney, I-"

"Wait until something bad happens, wait until they're vulnerable, then reel them in with a pep talk?!"

"Whitney, that's not what this is!"

"What else is it, then?!"

"Is it wrong to help someone because you care about them?!"

"It's not fucking normal! Everyone has ulterior motives! Everyone! Daddy wants me to be the perfect little trophy daughter! Mommy wants bragging rights for all her stuck-up designer friends! Gulliver just wants to feel better about his shitty fucking job working for this shitty fucking family!"

She tried to jerk the spear out of Cobalt's hands, but he kept his grip tight.

"That's just how people are! Izzbelle's just getting back at her dad, Jelli's desperate for attention, Elya's got psychotic delusions to feed, and Karazelle?! Don't get me started with her! If you're not doing the playing, sir, then you're being played! That's just how to world works!" she cried bitterly.

Whitney twisted the Golden Spear, causing sparks to fly off her prosthesis as she thrust the tip closer to Cobalt's chest.

"You've spent a lot of time with people who think that way, Whitney. But not everyone is like that."

"Bullshit!"

With a mighty pull, the Nymph ripped the spear out of Cobalt's hands. The bladed edges of the spear tip tore through his palms, splattering blood all over his front. Crying out, Cobalt staggered back as he gawked at the open wounds. Whitney herself looked shocked for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure as she raised her weapon to strike.

"I'm not a naïve little girl, sir! I will not be puppeted by anyone! Not you, not my family, no-one!"

Eyes aglow with manic lightning, Whitney glared at him.

"Either you leave now, or I toss you out on your ass. Your choice, sir," the Nymph warned, bracing her weapon against her prosthesis.

Her stance was unsteady, but he was more than certain that she was more than willing to fight tooth and nail.

Cobalt swallowed hard. In the back of his mind, he could feel Lilith's presence. Oddly enough, it felt reassuring.

"I choose to stay here. And I will not leave unless you come with me," he told her resolutely.

Raising his hands to his face, the Incubus swiftly licked his palms clean. Feeling his blood ignite, he channeled it into his arms, sealing the wounds and causing rows of teeth to form all across them. In the pit of his stomach, he felt a hunger for more, but he quashed it down. Now was not the time.

Whitney's eye flashed.

"Fine. Let's go then, sir!"