Hospital Corridors
The corridors of Holberg Hospital still echoed with groans, glowing healing lights, and the hurried steps of attendants. Yet after the earlier tension, the air had grown even heavier.
Arthur cast a brief glance at Ren, who sat on a bed at the far end. Seeing his brother alive loosened the chains wrapped around his chest, if only slightly. Behind the mask, his blue eyes appeared calm, though storms still raged within his heart.
Just then, Monica appeared, orange light shimmering faintly around her, walking side by side with the flame-haired Donna. The presence of the two witches seemed to soften the grim atmosphere of the corridor. Donna caught Arthur's vigilant posture with a subtle glance.
"Monica," Arthur said, his voice a blade of ice.
"The students have suffered enough already. Spare them your questions and your games."
Monica arched a brow, lips curling into a half-smile.
"Such harsh words… But rest assured, I am not threatening the students. I merely seek the truth."
Arthur's eyes gleamed with a cold blue fire.
"If your truth comes at the cost of shattering their trust, then you'll answer to me."
Donna stepped forward quickly, her tone sharp.
"Enough. This is no place for argument. Monica, I'll say the same—student peace comes before anything else."
Monica inhaled deeply, and out of respect for her friend, chose silence. Still, her gaze never left Arthur.
Just as the tension seemed to subside, heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor. George had returned—his face carved not with rage this time, but with a colder resolve.
"You still linger here, masked teacher," he said, voice ringing like steel. "Perhaps I should remind you of the Syndicate's authority to interrogate."
Students began whispering nervously:
"The Syndicate?"
"Again?"
Arthur didn't even turn his head, his eyes still fixed on Monica as he spoke.
"The Syndicate is not the only place I answer to. The only judge of my power… is myself."
George advanced, fists clenched, though his voice did not roar as before.
"If you ignore the rules, chaos spreads. Keeping someone whose identity we do not know—it's madness."
Arthur pressed the butt of his spear to the floor. Thin cracks spiderwebbed across the tiles, the corridor trembling under his presence.
"If you want to interrogate me, George… first learn how to survive."
His words were as cold as frost, though they carried no killing intent. It was a warning—nothing more.
George ground his teeth. "The Syndicate will not let this go."
Donna stepped forward, her voice cutting sharp as a blade.
"George! Enough! Interrogating someone invited here by the Headmaster is beyond your authority. Your priority is the safety of the students, not your ambition."
George faltered, unwilling to meet Arthur's gaze. Before turning away, he left one final sentence behind:
"We'll see how long the secret behind that mask lasts."
What remained in the corridor was only silence—heavy and suffocating.
Arthur whispered inwardly:
"It is not my identity that matters… only Ren's safety."
Monica & Donna
Once George's footsteps faded, the hospital gradually quieted. Students returned to their rooms, professors tended to the wounded. Arthur gave Ren one last glance before leaving the hall.
Monica's eyes followed him as he disappeared down the corridor. A faint whisper slipped from her lips:
"This man… he is no ordinary figure."
Donna stood beside her, arms crossed, casting a sideways glance at the orange-haired witch.
"You realized that too late, Monica. You should have known the moment he cut down scores of criminals in Holberg on his own."
Monica smiled faintly, though her smile carried a sharp edge of doubt.
"My concern is not his strength, Donna. I wonder why someone with such overwhelming power hides it so carefully. No one carries a burden like that for free."
Donna's eyes narrowed.
"Judging him is easy. But I see something else. Behind that mask… he is searching. All night long, his eyes never stopped looking—for someone."
Monica leaned closer, curiosity sparking.
"A student, you mean?"
Donna hesitated, then shrugged.
"Perhaps. But his attention is undeniable. If that's true… then this masked figure may be bound by ties far more dangerous than we imagined."
Monica bit her lip, her gaze flickering between intrigue and caution.
"Dangerous ties… Men like him become either saviors or disasters. Which do your instincts tell you he is, Donna?"
Donna drew a deep breath.
"For now… a savior. But that doesn't mean tomorrow won't change. That's why I stand close to him. If he ever takes the wrong step, I will be the first wall he crashes against."
Monica chuckled lightly.
"That is why I trust you. But mark my words: the secret behind that mask will one day come to light. And when it does, let us pray he does not stand against us."
Donna fell silent, her gaze fixed on Arthur's fading silhouette down the corridor.
"Yes… I know."