How annoying.
Elijah leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching as the chaos unfolded down the hall. He had expected Ruben to fall for it, to get tangled up with Ana in the storage room, to give him something juicy to use against him. A few pictures. Enough to crack the carefully constructed indifference he had about him.
But then the boy stumbled out of the room like a drunkard, his face pale, his pupils blown wide and then dropped, hitting the floor hard enough to crack his forehead against the tile. Blood gushed from his nose in a thick, dark stream, his limbs jerking in violent spasms. Ana's screams had been loud enough to draw half the hallway, and within seconds, Ruben was surrounded.
Elijah's lips twisted in annoyance.
That wasn't part of his plan.
He watched as a teacher shoved through the crowd, barking orders, as two seniors hauled Ruben up by his arms, his body still twitching. Ana stood frozen, her face ashen, her hands trembling at her sides.
Corbin.
Corbin sprinted down the hall, his usual swagger gone, replaced by something raw and panicked. He skidded to his knees beside Ruben, grabbing his face, his voice cracking as he shouted something Elijah couldn't hear over the noise.
For a moment, Elijah almost felt… What was it? Jealousy? He didn't know, but he shut it down instantly.
His plans didn't go how they were supposed to. He was going to get an earful from Alfred, the old man always figured out a way to find out when he was lying.
He just wanted to have some fun, it was the last in school term, he needed to play around a little. Leave his mark.
He looked to Ana again, slowly following the crowd as Ruben was taken to the nurses office.
He turned away, walking briskly down the opposite corridor, his jaw clenched. As soon as he rounded the corner, he slammed his fist into a wall, once, twice, the impact dulled by the thick plaster. No one noticed. No one ever did. And no one should until he wants it.
Oh well. He smoothed his expression and kept walking. What should I try next?
***
The sterile scent of antiseptic clung in the air, thick and suffocating, as Corbin sat in the stiff plastic chair of the nurses office. His fingers dug into his knees, knuckles whitening under the pressure, his nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the fabric of his uniform pants.
The rhythmic beeping of machines in the adjacent medical bay was the only sound in the room, a constant, mocking reminder of time passing, of Ruben lying unconscious just beyond the door, tubes snaking from his arms, his face pale and slack.
The nurse, Ingrid Bauer, sat across from him, her posture straight but not unkind, her hands folded neatly over Ruben's medical chart. Her voice was measured, professional, the kind of tone that suggested she had delivered this kind of news before. A lot maybe. That she could cushion the blow. Corbin didn't like that.
Dario couldn't be here.
He was out of the country. The thought circled Corbin's mind like a vulture. Ruben wasn't dying. The school had followed protocol. Everything was under control.
Everything was fine.
Except it wasn't.
Nurse Bauer exhaled softly, flipping open the chart. "The toxicology report came back," she said, her voice steady. "Ruben had an extreme combination of substances in his system."
Corbin's jaw tightened. His throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.
"Methamphetamine," she continued, her eyes scanning the page, "at levels well beyond the toxic threshold. It overstimulated his heart, caused severe muscle breakdown, and pushed his body temperature into dangerous territory. If his Ego weren't what it is… if his body hadn't built up its incredible resistance, it would have killed him outright."
Corbin's stomach twisted. His fingers twitched against his knees, restless and furious.
"MDMA was also present in high doses," she went on. "It flooded his brain with serotonin, leading to serotonin syndrome. It's what caused the seizures as he went down." She paused, glancing up at him. "Do you know what that means?"
Corbin didn't answer. He didn't need to. He had seen it, Ruben's body convulsing on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, his limbs jerking like a marionnette with its strings cut.
"And Ketamine." Nurse Bauer finished. "An anesthetic. It detached his mind from his body, dulled pain that he may have noticed earlier as well as worsened confusion and hallucinations. Combined with the other substances, it created a perfect storm. His nervous system couldn't handle the overload."
Corbin exhaled sharply through his nose, his chest too tight, his ribs pressing inward like a vice.
"You said he'll live." he muttered. It wasn't a question.
Nurse Bauer nodded. "He will. His body has an unusually high resistance to toxins. Probably his Ego, but he has likely built up this resistance over time."
Over time.
The words settled like lead in Corbin's gut. How long? How long has Ruben been doing this? How had he missed it?
"There are traces of the drug called Sunmilk in his bag," Nurse Bauer added, watching him carefully. "The vials he took were contaminated, mixed with these other substances."
Corbin's throat worked. "I know what Sunmilk is."
It was a drug that he read about in some thread. It was taken mainly by Ego users though, it had a greater effect on them than they did normal people. Corbin had never been into drugs or any of that stuff, sure he was tempted, but he didn't want to fall into dependency on them.
Nurse Bauer didn't react. "He's in a medically induced coma. It's standard procedure in cases like this, to give his body time to stabilize. He should wake within the next two days." She closed the chart. "Recovery will take time, but he'll pull through."
Corbin didn't respond. His vision blurred at the edges, his breath coming too fast, too shallow.
How did it get like this?
He hadn't known. Hadn't even suspected.
The realization hit him like a fist to the ribs.
He had been so obsessed and focused with his own goals. Late-night studying to stay at the top of their class. Training until his muscles screamed, until his knuckles split and bled. Pushing himself to the limit, chasing the impossible dream of becoming a Paladin. He even got it in his head that maybe he could take over Dario's position.
And Ruben…
He hadn't even noticed.
Hadn't seen it.
A wet, shuddering breath escaped him before he could chole it back. His hands trembled in his lap.
Nurse Bauer hesitated, then reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your brother will wake up," she said softly.
Corbin didn't correct her. He couldn't speak.
The weight of guilt, anger and helplessness all crashed down on him. A gnawing fear had been clawing at his chest since he'd seen Ruben convulsing on the floor.
He hadn't protected him.
Just like last time. But this time he wasn't even the one being protected. He failed again.
"You have no reason to blame yourself." Nurse Bauer said, her voice firm but kind.
Corbin's laugh came out hollow and crooked. "Yeah, sure."
She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "I'd like you to speak with Robyn Wilson. Our guidance counsellor. She's also a therapist."
Corbin stiffened. "I don't…"
"Do it," she interrupted, not unkindly. "Not for yourself. For him. So you know what to do from the time he wakes up. So you can understand and reconcile with the decisions he made."
Corbin's fists clenched. He didn't think he had to reconcile with it. He could be mad about it but then what. Stay mad? He doesn't know what to do.
Nurse Bauer's expression softened. "It's the most I can do for you, given the circumstances."
Corbin swallowed.
"The day's almost over," she said, standing. "If you want to stay, you can book a room on campus. Otherwise, go home and rest."
Corbin didn't move.
After a moment, he forced himself to stand, his legs unsteady beneath him.
"Thank you," he muttered, the words thick in his throat.
Nurse Bauer nodded.
Corbin turned and walked out, his footsteps heavy, his mind a whirlwind of self-loathing and regret.
The hallway outside was quiet, the usual clamor of students long since faded as the school day ended. The lights hummed overhead, casting shadows on the polished floor.
He barely registered the figure standing outside the door until he nearly collided with her.
Ana.
Her violet eyes were red-rimmed, her face streaked with tears. She was shaking.
Corbin's stomach dropped.
"What do you want?" he snapped putting back up his mask.
Ana flinched but didn't back down. "I knew," she whispered.
Corbin didn't know what she was talking about. She was just some weird girl that he never really had much contact with.
"I knew that Ruben was using." she continued, her voice was shaking. "I knew and I… I didn't stop him."
Corbin's vision tunneled.
For a second, he wanted to scream. To lash out. To break something, anything, just to make the fury inside him stop.
But then…
Ana bowed her head, her shoulders trembling. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I was being selfish. I should have never let it get this far."
Corbin's anger drained as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only exhaustion.
He wanted to be mad at her. But he couldn't. Not when the person he was really mad at was himself.
"Don't blame yourself." he muttered, pushing past her.
Ana didn't respond.
Corbin kept walking, his fists clenched at his sides, his chest aching with something he couldn't name.
The hallway stretched before him, endless and suffocating. His footsteps echoed too loud in the silence, each one a reminder of how alone he was, how alone he had let himself get.
He thought of Ruben's face, slack in unconsciousness. Thought of all the time he had brushed off Ruben's absences, his distant stares, his hollow laughter.
Thought of how he had been too busy chasing his own desires to notice his best friend was drowning.
***
The office was too quiet.
Corbin sat stiffly in the silence, on a plush chair in Robyn Wilson's office. The room smelled of lavender, it was soothing. The afternoon light came in and he could feel the heat of it on his knees through the half-blinds.
He had been here for ten minutes and other than the introductions he had just stayed silent, not answering the questions that had been asked. Just listening to the tick of the clock on the wall. That was the only sound between them.
Robyn watched him, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She didn't rush him. Didn't push. Just waited, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture relaxed but attentive.
Corbin hated it.
He hated the silence and the anticipation. Hated the way he was being looked at. Hated that he decided to come here at all.
But he didn't leave.
Robyn tilted her head, robotically. "How are you feeling, Corbin?"
"Fine." he replied with an exhale through his nose.
She didn't call him out on that lie. He knew she could tell it was a lie, not how but he just knew. Maybe it was the increased silence after he said it like she was waiting for him to tell the truth and start spilling his guts.
Her gaze was steady. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. But if you do I am here to listen."
Corbin's fingers stilled.
Another stretch of silence filled the room.
Then, finally, Robyn leaned forward slightly. "How do you feel about what happened to Ruben?"
Corbin's chest constricted.
His first instinct was to deflect. Then snap. To tell her it didn't matter, that Ruben was an idiot, that he'd brought it on himself.
But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, his hands curled into fists in his lap, his nails biting into his palms.
"It makes me feel miserable." he muttered, the admission dragged out of him like a kid dragging his short stubby legs through snow. "'Feel like an idiot who can't even manage what's going on in front of him."
Robyn's expression didn't change. "Why do you feel like you have to manage it?"
Corbin blinked. What an odd question.
"You just turned fifteen a few months ago," she continued, her voice calm. "You have a capable guardian. Ruben is his own person too. His choices, his struggles, they're his to manage too. Not yours."
Corbin stared at her. He didn't think she was wrong. But he still didn't want to hear it, he wasn't used to hearing something like that.
He was sure if his mother was here she would find a way to…
He exhaled sharply after taking a deep breath. His breath shuddered, uneven, his fingers tangling in his curly hair.
After a long moment, she spoke again. "Tell me about your family, Corbin."
A hollow laugh escaped him.
"My dad died when I was seven," he said, his voice rough. "He was a cheat. Or… you know, something like that. I don't remember much about him. But I don't remember him being the bad guy."
Robyn nodded. "And your mother?"
Corbin's jaw got to work.
"Hollow," he said. "Miserable. Always had some nitpick about me or anyone around her. But it felt like it always came back to me. Always comparing me to my cousin especially."
Robyn's pen hovered over her notepad. "Did you have a good relationship with your cousin?"
Corbin's breath hitched. He shrugged.
"His name was Luc," he said, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. "Only cousin I knew. Maybe the only one I had on my mom's side." He swallowed hard. "When he first moved a few houses away from us, he wasn't what I was used to. Overly kind. Always willing to listen, to talk. I hated it."
A pause.
"Then after a year, he got quieter. Not completely withdrawn, just didn't have as much to say." Corbin's voice cracked. "Ruben just reminded me of that."
Robyn's gaze locked on to him.
"And then Luc died."
The words came out of a clamped mouth. A secret that he didn't want to let out. It was clear to Robyn that Corbin hadn't dealt with this grief and instead just carried on until this very moment.
Corbin's hands trembled.
"I treated him like shit," he whispered. "Bullied him. Excluded him. And then," His throat closed. "There was an accident. Some retard…" he paused and looked to Robyn to apologize, she accepted and told him to carry on, "...some guy was playing with a lighter by the radiator. Next thing you know, there's an explosion going off. Started off in the classroom and then consumed the whole class."
"I was out. When I woke up I felt hot but I also felt like I was being shielded and then carried away. Luc was lifting me up, carrying me through a burning building. He led me to an exit, but then…"
His voice broke.
"A beam fell. And crushed him."
Silence.
Robyn didn't speak for a long time. Then softly, she said. "You feel like you failed him."
Corbin's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. His chest ached, like a raw and open wound.
"Why?" he choked out. "Why would he help me? After everything I did to him… why would he even bother?"
Robyn's voice was gentle. "Because that is who he was. And that is now how you remember your cousin. Someone that saved you and gave you another chance. "
Corbin flinched. That answer didn't help him. He swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"I thought… If I paid too much attention to Ruben, I'd treat him the same way eventually out of spite or some kind of jealousy."
"That jealousy only came because of the expectations your mother put on you to be like your cousin." She told him.
"Yeah, well if I was a little more like Luc, I probably would have noticed what Ruben was doing." he fired back.
Robyn leaned forward. "Ruben is still alive, Corbin. You still have another chance."
"You made mistakes in the past," she said. "But you're trying to rectify them. That's what matters. Now, you just have to be there for him. And when he wakes up, when he's ready, you both need to understand that he made choices too. He has to want to make things right."
Corbin nodded slowly, the weight in his chest easing just slightly.
For the first time since he saw Ruben collapse, he felt like he could breathe normally again.
***
Sprawled on an absurdly plush velvet cushion Elijah Neri had dragged in against explicit orders. His legs crossed, chin popped lazily in his palm.
Alfred Stein's eye twitched.
"Remove that eyesore from my office," he said, his voice a blade wrapped in silk.
Elijah didn't move. Just blinked up at him, slow and deliberate, like a cat assessing whether a mouse was worth the chase. "It's comfortable."
Alfred's fingers tightened around the fountain pen in his hand, the gold filigree biting into his skin. "This isn't a lounge."
"Could've fooled me," Elijah smirked, sinking deeper into the cushion. "All this space, all these books, you ever actually read them? Or are they just for show?"
Alfred exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the pen down with deliberate precision. He wouldn't rise to the bait. Not today.
"The overdose," he said instead, steering the conversation back to the business. "It is disgusting."
Elijah's grin didn't waiver. "At least it had nothing to do with me right? The junkie did himself in."
"But you were involved in manipulating a classmate." Alfred mentioned. Elijah still didn't know how he found out everything he did, there was a chance that he had someone working for her in the school, he had no way of finding that out. "I told you exposing your power and its limits is the most foolish thing one can do."
"And?" Elijah tilted his head. "She didn't pour the drugs down his throat. He did that all on his own."
Alfred's gray eyes darkened, "Your carelessness could have drawn attention. If Ruben Rayo had died…"
"But he didn't," Elijah interrupted, waving a hand. "He was attended to by a good medic. He'll live."
Alfred leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. The silver signet ring on his right hand gleamed under the lights above.
"Dario Kosta," he said slowly, "was a man who once understood how great and grand this nation could be. I was there during his inception. When he erupted into the world's grand stage as someone the rest of the lands envied and wanted for themselves." His voice dropped. "And now? He wastes his time coddling street trash."
Elijah yawned, he never liked being in the room as Albert complained a lot.
"And with the position he holds it's not just physical power he has." Alfred slammed his fist onto the desk with a crack like thunder. "Pay attention!"
Elijah didn't flinch. Just arched a brow, amused. "I'm listening."
Alfred's jaw clenched. "This nation could have been an empire already. Under my guidance, we would have assimilated the weaker territories and expanded out borders, unified under one banner." His fingers traced the edge of a map on his desk. The map of Ostara.
Elijah hummed, feigning interest. "Tragic."
Alfred's gaze sharpened. "You will pass the entrance exam. You will join the Paladin trials. And when the time comes, you will work with a task force I will have assembled by then to ensure neither of those boys advance further. And then as that happens I can bring up Dario's ignorance to the board and find a way to elevate my position."
Elijah's smirk grew wider. He knew that the Pillar of Law was in a pretty high position and with the way the nation was set up, he could only gain more by changing some of the constitution. He has people backing him, but there are many more behind Dario Kosta, even if only because they know he can protect them when vultures like Alfred Klein wish to strike.
So that can only mean one thing. Soon, Alfred will plan an even greater attack on the Warlord.
Elijah can't wait to see that.
"So what will the task force look like?" he asked.
Discreet operatives. Loyalists." Alfred's lips curled. "People who understand what's at stake."
Elijah stretched his arms behind his head, sighing. "Sounds like a lot of boring people then."
"It's necessary brat."
Elijah got up, he was getting tired and he still hasn't decided if he should act out or not. He thought it would be fun messing around with Corbin now that Ruben is out of commission for the meantime, but since Alfred's plans seemed like they would be a lot of fun he knew he didn't want to ruin his position.
Choices… Choices.
"I'm going to bed now." he said, he pushed the doors open but then twisted his head back to address the older man. "Also Alfred?"
The pillar of Law didn't respond.
"I've been reading a lot lately and even paying more attention in history class." He started. "With all your talk about empire I just think it's silly. Because all of them fall in the worst ways. The only one that has made it past the 250 year mark is the blessed nation of Atlantis. Do you think you can replicate that?"
Alfred stared at him. His fingers curled into fists. Elijah didn't mean to intimidate him, he was genuinely interested in his thought process. But the man was so prideful he stayed silent…!
"YES."
Elijah stopped his move out the door as he heard the response.
"Yes. I do think I can do better than them all. After all, every other nation has only copied our progress to survive this long." His voice was rough and finished off in a disgusting tone. "Copycats will always die out. It's better they take their losses and give in to their better. It's only for their betterment."