White smoke filled the dungeon, burning Julian's eyes.

Gideon let out a sharp cry. He clutched his right hand. A single drop of the green acid had splashed onto his knuckles, eating through the skin and turning the flesh a sickly black.

He ignored the pain and flipped onto his knees, crawling toward Julian's boots.

"Headmaster! Forgive me!" Gideon's voice cracked in terror. "I was only trying to share your burden!"

Julian stared down at the boy. This was the idiot who constantly pushed Kamari past the breaking point in the novel. This was the idiot who would get them both killed.

A dry, scraping sound came from the cross.

Kamari was laughing. It wasn't a real laugh. It was a broken, wet sound that scraped against the back of his throat.

"What new psychological game is this?" Kamari rasped. His golden eyes locked onto Julian, burning with fresh venom. "You disgust me, Benedict."

Julian's heart skipped a beat. The protagonist just used his first name. That was practically a death sentence.

He couldn't apologize. If he showed weakness, if he broke character now, the magical world would sense the shift. Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.

He had to play the monster to survive.

Julian looked down at Gideon. He tapped into the foreign memories sitting in the back of his brain, trying to recall the exact feeling described in his own manuscript. He mimicked the mental focus required. Instantly, a cold, stagnant force crashed against his chest, violently expanding in his veins and nearly suffocating him. Panic flared as the unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed his senses. He jerked his right hand up in a desperate bid to release the pressure. An unstable wave of dark purple energy shot out wildly from his fingertips. The magic spiraled out of control, accidentally forming a crushing weight.

A wave of heavy gravity magic slammed down onto Gideon's back.

A loud crack echoed in the room. Gideon screamed. His chest hit the stone floor so hard the breath was knocked out of his lungs. He lay pinned, unable to move a single muscle.

Kamari's breath hitched. His jaw ticked. He stared at Gideon's crushed form, unable to process what he was seeing. Benedict never punished his own dogs.

Julian forced his face to remain completely blank. His stomach churned violently at the sound of the breaking bone.

He turned his attention to the whip still clutched in his right hand. He walked over to the iron brazier burning in the corner. He tossed the leather whip directly into the flames.

The fire flared a sickly green. The leather curled and turned to ash in seconds.

Kamari watched the whip burn. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow jerks.

Julian turned his back to the fire. He walked slowly toward the obsidian cross. He stopped exactly one step out of Kamari's reach. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back so Kamari wouldn't see them trembling.

Julian pushed magic into his vocal cords, amplifying his voice so it would bleed through the heavy oak doors to the guards outside.

"From this day forward," Julian commanded, his voice vibrating in the small room. He looked at Gideon, then brought his eyes back to Kamari. "No one steps foot in this dungeon without my direct order. And no one touches a single hair on his head."

Gideon whimpered against the floor, his eyes bulging in disbelief.

Kamari clenched his teeth. Blood loss was making his head loll, but he fought to keep his eyes open. He stared at Julian, searching for the lie.

"If you're going to kill me... just do it," Kamari whispered. "Stop playing these sick games."

His chin dropped to his chest. His body went entirely limp against the silver chains. He was out cold.

Julian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He turned toward the heavy oak doors. "Get in here!" he barked.

Two academy guards pushed the doors open. They took one look at Gideon pinned to the floor and visibly swallowed hard.

"Get him down," Julian ordered, pointing at Kamari.

The guards rushed to the cross. They fumbled with the heavy iron keys. One guard grabbed Kamari by the bicep and yanked him forward to loosen the chain.

Kamari let out a low, pained grunt in his sleep. His brow furrowed deeply.

Julian's chest tightened. "Watch your hands, idiot!" he snapped. "If you break my toy, I'll take your arm as compensation!"

The guard flinched as if he had been struck. He immediately softened his grip, handling the unconscious boy like fragile glass. They lowered Kamari onto a canvas stretcher.

Julian followed them out of the dungeon and into the dimly lit underground corridor.

Footsteps echoed ahead. Three men in crisp black uniforms marched toward them. They wore silver badges on their chests-two crossed swords. The Disciplinary Committee.

The man in the front stopped, blocking the hallway. Vance. He looked at the bloody boy on the stretcher and smirked.

"Headmaster," Vance said, his tone lacking any real respect. "By academy protocol, this defective student damaged the warding barriers. He belongs in the Committee's holding cells now."

Julian remembered the book. If Kamari went to the Committee, Vance would torture him until his magic circuits permanently scarred. And Kamari would blame Julian for handing him over.

Julian stopped walking. He let the coldness of Benedict's persona wash over his face.

"Are you trying to tell me how to run my academy, Vance?" Julian asked softly.

Vance frowned. "It is Director Malachi's order. The protocol must be followed."

Julian stepped forward. He placed his body directly between Vance and the stretcher.

"Protocol?" Julian sneered. "I am the protocol."

He reached into his spatial ring. He pulled out a heavy obsidian seal-the Headmaster's absolute authority. He shoved it inches from Vance's face.

"Headmaster's override," Julian said, his voice flat and dangerous. "Kamari Monroe is my case. I am taking personal control."

Vance's face turned a mottled red. He stared at the seal, his jaw tight. "You will have to explain this to the Board of Trustees."

"Get out of my sight," Julian said.

Vance glared at him, then spun on his heel and marched away with his men.

Julian felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He turned back to the stretcher.

He needed the guards to spread the word that he was acting strange. He needed witnesses to his 'change of heart'.

Julian let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. He reached out and gently brushed the sweat-soaked silver hair away from Kamari's forehead. He let his face soften into an expression of deep, painful guilt.

"Why do you make this so hard on yourself?" Julian murmured softly.

The two guards exchanged terrified glances. The Headmaster was showing pity. It was unnatural.

Suddenly, Julian felt a violent flinch under his fingertips.

He looked down.

Kamari's eyes were open by a fraction. Through the veil of his silver lashes, those golden eyes were locked onto Julian's face. He had seen the guilt. He had heard the words.

Julian's stomach flipped, but he quickly pulled his hand back and straightened his posture.

Julian ordered the guards to take Kamari to the infirmary for basic bandaging. He immediately headed to the Headmaster's office.

He threw open the heavy wooden doors and went straight to the filing cabinets. He ripped out the student housing ledger and flipped through the thick parchment pages.

He found Kamari's name.

Servant Quarters. Sub-basement Three. Storage Room 4.

Julian's jaw clenched. He knew the book said Kamari lived in squalor, but seeing it on official paper made his skin crawl.

He left the office and walked down the spiraling stone stairs. The air grew colder with every floor. By the time he reached Sub-basement Three, the smell of mildew and raw sewage hit him like a physical wall.

Julian covered his nose with his sleeve. He walked down the narrow, dripping hallway and kicked open the rotting wooden door of Room 4.

There was no window. Water dripped from the ceiling into a rusted bucket. A single wooden plank covered in moldy straw sat in the corner. This was where the protagonist slept.

Heavy footsteps slapped against the wet stone behind him. The fat dorm manager came running, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

"H-Headmaster?" the manager stuttered. "What are you doing down in the muck?"

Julian turned slowly. He let the fury he felt for the original Benedict bleed into his eyes. He pointed at the wet straw. "This is where you put a special-admissions student?"

The manager recoiled. "But... but you ordered it last month, sir! You said to break his spirit!"

Julian swallowed the bile in his throat. He had to spin this.

"I told you to break his spirit," Julian hissed, stepping into the man's personal space. "I didn't tell you to drag the academy's reputation through the mud! If the outside world finds out we treat a Seraf-Kin like a stray dog, the Board will have my head. And I will have yours."

The manager's knees gave out. He dropped to the wet floor. "Forgive me! I misunderstood!"

"Pack his things," Julian ordered.

The manager scrambled into the room. He came out holding a single, frayed cloth sack. That was everything Kamari owned.

Julian snatched the bag, cast a quick cleaning spell over it to kill the smell, and walked away.

An hour later, the guards dragged a heavily bandaged Kamari up the stairs to the Headmaster's private obsidian tower.

They pushed open the heavy violet-and-gold doors. The suite was massive. Velvet rugs covered the floor. A massive fire roared in the hearth, throwing warm light across the room.

The guards gently placed Kamari on the huge, feather-covered bed.

The second Kamari's back hit the soft mattress, he violently recoiled. He scrambled backward until his spine hit the headboard, pulling his knees to his chest. He looked around the room like a trapped animal.

Julian sat in a single leather armchair across the room. He held a crystal glass of red wine. He kept his distance.

"You live here now," Julian said flatly.

Kamari's eyes darted from the roaring fire to the velvet curtains, then finally to Julian. His jaw ticked. A cold, mocking smile twisted his lips.

"What's wrong?" Kamari rasped. "Did the smell of the basement ruin your appetite for torture?"

Julian gripped the wine glass.

"So you brought me to a cleaner cage," Kamari continued, his voice dripping with venom. "What's the new game, Benedict?"

Julian wanted to scream that he was trying to give him a warm place to sleep. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine.

"Think whatever you want," Julian said coldly. "But if you step one foot out of those doors without my permission, I will break both your legs."