The room felt colder the moment the Headmaster stepped inside.
Not because the air changed—
but because he changed it.
Caliban Stride was a tall man, sharp-featured, elegant in a way that felt too precise to be human.
His presence was controlled, every gesture measured, every breath quiet.
Everything about him whispered authority.
Everything inside me whispered danger.
As he stepped forward, the medics retreated instinctively.
The attendants bowed so deeply they shook.
But Horace didn't move.
He stood in front of me—
solid, unmoving, jaw tight, shoulders squared.
"State your purpose, Headmaster," Horace said, voice low and steady.
Caliban's eyes drifted briefly to him.
A soft, amused smile tugged at his lips.
"Your Highness," he murmured.
"How unusual, seeing you so… ruffled."
Chandler took a single step forward, blocking the doorway.
"Don't come closer."
Caliban's eyebrows lifted the barest fraction.
Rowan held my hand in both of his, pulling me closer to his chest.
Lucian stepped into Caliban's line of sight, tablet in hand, eyes sharp.
"You tampered with the test wing controls, Headmaster," Lucian said flatly.
"There's Level 7 override data pointing straight to you."
Caliban didn't blink.
"Ah," he murmured.
"Of course you found that."
Rowan stiffened.
"You… you admit it?"
The Headmaster smiled faintly.
"Why would I deny something that is true?"
Chandler inhaled sharply.
Horace's fists clenched.
Lucian's eyes narrowed to slits.
"So you tried to break her," Lucian said.
"With an induction protocol banned twenty years ago."
Caliban tilted his head.
"I did not try to break her."
He paused.
"I tried to reveal her."
THE ROOM REACTS
Chandler slammed his fist into the wall.
"Reveal WHAT?!"
Rowan's grip tightened around mine.
Horace took a step forward, his entire body bristling.
"You nearly killed her."
Caliban watched him calmly.
"And she did not die."
Lucian's jaw clenched.
"That doesn't make it justified."
The Headmaster's grey eyes glinted.
"Oh, Mister Vale.
Justification is decided by results."
I swallowed.
"…why?"
The word scraped out of me.
"Why me?"
Caliban finally looked directly at me.
Those grey eyes—
polite on the surface—
felt like cold steel.
"You should know, Elleanore."
My breath hitched.
I didn't know.
I didn't understand.
But something—
a flicker of something old and buried—
shifted at the edges of my mind.
Rowan whispered:
"Elle… your heart rate—"
But I couldn't answer.
Caliban continued in a quiet, almost gentle tone:
"You should know," he repeated,
"because this isn't the first time I've seen your face."
A MEMORY STIRS
My heart stopped.
Literally stopped.
A sharp, electric pulse ran through my skull.
A flash—
white light—
cold—
a metal table—
A voice saying:
"Hold still, Jan. This will be over quickly."
I gasped.
My vision blurred.
Rowan panicked, clutching me.
"Elle—!? Elle, what's wrong—?!"
Horace whipped around.
"Don't touch her—don't come closer—"
Chandler swore and reached for my shoulder.
"Stay with us—stay with us—"
Lucian barked:
"Don't let her collapse—this is memory recall—!"
The Headmaster smiled faintly at my reaction.
"Yes," he murmured.
"Your brother made that same expression."
My chest tightened.
Hard.
Painful.
Horrifying.
Timelines collided in my head—
half-formed memories, flickers, shadows—
My brother's voice.
A cold room.
Grey eyes.
Grey eyes.
I stared at Caliban.
"You…"
My voice cracked.
"You knew Elliot."
Caliban's expression didn't change.
"I did," he said simply.
"He was one of my most promising students."
Horace froze.
Rowan's grip faltered.
Chandler stilled completely.
Lucian whispered:
"Oh, you're kidding…"
Caliban continued with eerie calm:
"Your brother was exceptional.
Gifted.
A rare specimen."
Chandler's voice broke into a snarl.
"He's not a specimen. He's a person."
Rowan's fingers trembled violently.
Horace's breathing sharpened.
Lucian's eyes narrowed, calculations firing in rapid bursts.
But Caliban wasn't finished.
"No one else possessed his pheromonal capacity," he continued.
"No one but you."
My blood ran cold.
I whispered:
"What happened to him?"
Caliban smiled again.
A small, polite, monstrous smile.
"Elliot Jan Fonze," he said,
"was the Academy's greatest failure."
Rowan gasped.
Horace flinched like the words physically hit him.
Chandler lunged forward, but Lucian grabbed him by the collar.
"DON'T—"
I felt like someone had ripped my ribcage open.
"Failure…?" I whispered.
"My brother failed…?"
Caliban's eyes softened—not with kindness, but with fascination.
"He could not endure the resonance.
He broke."
My throat closed.
Lucian's head snapped toward him.
"…so he DID undergo induction."
Caliban clasped his hands behind his back.
"Of course.
He volunteered."
The room reeled.
Rowan let out a tiny, broken sound.
Chandler froze mid-struggle.
Horace's jaw tightened so hard it creaked.
I shook my head.
"He wouldn't—
he wouldn't leave without telling me—"
Caliban blinked.
"Oh.
He didn't leave."
My stomach dropped.
"What…?"
Caliban stepped forward slowly.
The air thickened.
Gravity felt heavier.
"Your brother didn't leave the Academy," he said softly.
"He never left at all."
THE TRUTH BEGINS TO UNRAVEL
Silence.
Absolute, freezing silence.
Rowan leaned closer to me, shaking.
"Elle—Elle—breathe—please breathe—"
Chandler's knuckles bled from clenching so hard.
Horace moved in front of me again, blocking Caliban from view.
Lucian's voice trembled for the first time all day.
"Where is he, Headmaster."
Caliban didn't blink.
"Somewhere safe."
Chandler roared:
"WHERE?!"
"Somewhere useful," Caliban continued, ignoring him.
Lucian's voice sharpened to a blade.
"You experimented on her brother."
Caliban tilted his head faintly.
"I helped your brother reach his potential."
"You broke him," I whispered.
The Headmaster watched me with eerie calm.
"If he broke," he said gently,
"then so might you."
Horace snapped.
He moved so fast the air cracked—
fist drawn back, ready to strike—
But Caliban raised one finger.
And all the lights in the room flickered.
Horace froze mid-step.
Every monitor in the medical suite glitched.
Emergency systems beeped warnings.
Lucian's tablet crashed.
Chandler stiffened, instinct rising.
Rowan clutched my hand, terrified.
Caliban lowered his hand.
All the lights stabilized again.
He smiled.
"I am the one who decides what breaks in this Academy."
My heart pounded.
Hard.
Painful.
Terrified.
But beneath the fear—
beneath the shock—
beneath the horror—
something else ignited.
Something sharp.
Something furious.
Something mine.
I sat up slowly.
Rowan tried to steady me.
Chandler reached out instinctively.
Horace turned instantly, ready to catch me.
Lucian tried to stop me from rising.
But I looked directly at the Headmaster.
Grey eyes.
A polite smile.
A monster wearing authority like a tailored coat.
My voice came out quiet.
Steady.
Deadly steady.
"Where is my brother."
Caliban's smile widened.
"Alive," he said simply.
My breath stopped.
Every boy froze.
Lucian's eyes flew wide.
Chandler swore under his breath.
Rowan's knees buckled.
Horace whispered:
"…alive…?"
Caliban nodded.
"Alive," he repeated.
"But not as you remember him."
What He Took. What Remains.
"Alive."
The word hovered in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
It wasn't comforting.
It wasn't hopeful.
It wasn't even merciful.
It was a threat.
Caliban Stride's voice was low, smooth, steady.
Like someone explaining a weather report.
"Your brother is alive," he said again.
"But the boy who walked through my doors years ago
is not the one who remains today."
Rowan staggered backward as if struck.
"N-no…"
His voice cracked.
"No… Elliot… he—he—"
Chandler caught him before he fell.
Horace took a step in front of me, posture rigid with fury he could barely contain.
Lucian stopped breathing entirely for a heartbeat.
Caliban continued, unbothered by the devastation unfolding around him.
"He survived the induction process," the Headmaster said.
"Barely. Or perhaps… not quite."
My throat closed.
I stared at him.
Silent.
Shaking.
"Explain," Horace snarled.
Caliban lifted a mild brow.
"I will.
But only because Miss Fonze deserves clarity—
even if she cannot accept the truth."
Rowan sobbed quietly into Chandler's chest.
Lucian clenched his fists.
"Speak," Horace demanded.
THE HEADMASTER TELLS THE TRUTH HE SHOULDN'T
Caliban paced slowly—
a professor preparing a lecture,
a scientist ready to unveil a result.
But he wasn't either of those things.
He was a man who held life and death between two fingers
and had long forgotten the difference.
"Six years ago," he began,
"your brother entered the Academy under unusual circumstances."
Lucian's head whipped toward him.
"Unusual how?"
Caliban's eyes flickered.
"He was recommended by a man who shouldn't exist."
My heart lurched.
"Who?"
Caliban ignored me.
"Elliot possessed a rare profile—an Omega with unusually high pheromone range.
We believed he held potential for advanced resonance."
Chandler growled.
"You mean you thought he'd survive your illegal tests."
Caliban offered a small smile.
"Words are interpretations."
"Try 'criminal,'" Lucian snapped.
But Caliban continued:
"Your brother initially adapted.
He passed thresholds no student had reached in decades.
But the induction protocol… pushed him beyond what his body could withstand."
Rowan trembled violently.
"Stop… please stop—"
Chandler held him tighter.
Horace didn't move.
He looked carved from stone.
And I—
I felt ice spreading through my chest.
"What happened to him?" I whispered.
Caliban paused.
Then said quietly:
"He fractured."
I swallowed a sob.
"Fractured?"
Lucian shook his head.
"Stop playing with semantics. What does that MEAN?"
Caliban's expression softened in a way that felt worse than cruelty.
"It means," he said,
"his instincts broke from his consciousness.
His identity… dissolved."
Rowan cried harder.
Chandler shook with fury.
Lucian cursed under his breath.
Horace whispered:
"You destroyed him."
Caliban didn't deny it.
Instead he said:
"He survived longer than expected.
But his name, his memory, even his sense of self—
these began to fade."
My nails dug into the sheets.
"What did you DO to him?"
"Nothing," he said.
And then, after a beat:
"Everything."
THE WORST TRUTH
Caliban continued:
"Elliot was not dead.
But he was no longer… recoverable."
I felt the world tilt under me.
"We could not release him," Caliban went on.
"He could not return home.
He had no identity left."
My vision blurred.
"Where is he?" I demanded.
"Where is my brother?"
Caliban tilted his head.
"Here."
The room stilled.
Chandler froze mid-breath.
Rowan jerked his head up.
Lucian's jaw dropped.
Horace's eyes widened.
Caliban repeated:
"Your brother never left the Academy."
I stared.
"No… you said—"
He cut me off with calm cruelty.
"He is here.
Alive.
Confined for his own safety."
Rowan grabbed my hand harder, crying quietly.
Chandler muttered a curse that sounded like a threat.
Horace's breathing was uneven.
Lucian's eyes narrowed.
"Where," he demanded.
Caliban simply folded his hands neatly at his back.
"I cannot disclose that."
Chandler took a step forward, voice dropping to a dangerous rumble.
"Then you're dying tonight."
Horace didn't stop him.
Lucian didn't stop him.
It was Rowan—
sweet, trembling, terrified Rowan—
who whispered:
"No… no, Chandler… if you hurt him, we'll never know where Elliot is…"
Chandler's fists trembled.
Then dropped.
But the fury stayed in his eyes.
Caliban watched all of this with clinical curiosity.
"You cannot force me," he said softly.
"No one has the authority to—"
"You're wrong."
Horace stepped forward.
And the air changed.
Not from fear this time.
From the presence of a future king.
"My authority," Horace said,
"surpasses yours."
Caliban raised a brow.
"You would challenge me?"
Horace's jaw clenched.
"Try me."
THE HEADMASTER PUSHES FURTHER
Caliban sighed softly.
"As charming as your anger is, Your Highness…
your authority ends where Academy law begins."
Lucian scoffed.
"There's no law protecting human experimentation."
Caliban smiled.
"Nor is there one prohibiting the containment of unstable Omegas who pose a danger to themselves."
I froze.
A danger?
Rowan shook his head fiercely.
"Elliot wasn't dangerous!"
Caliban looked at him mildly.
"Elliot was very dangerous.
He simply didn't understand what he could do."
Horace's eyes flashed.
"What power are you implying he had?"
Caliban's gaze slid back to me.
To me.
And something in his expression
made my stomach drop.
"Miss Fonze," he said quietly,
"your brother's pheromone output was extraordinary."
My pulse raced.
Caliban continued:
"He had the rare ability to disrupt resonance fields."
Everyone stilled.
Chandler blinked.
Rowan's tears paused mid-fall.
Lucian whispered:
"…that's impossible."
Caliban shook his head.
"It was unprecedented.
The Academy believed such capacity belonged only to theoretical models.
But Elliot had it."
My breath stilled.
"Had," I whispered.
Caliban smiled thinly.
"And now you do."
THE ROOM BREAKS
Rowan inhaled sharply.
Chandler's eyes widened.
Lucian's head snapped toward me.
Horace turned slowly.
"You felt it, didn't you?" Caliban murmured.
"In the chamber.
The way the frequency bent around you.
The way it collapsed.
The way you took control of it."
I stared.
Terrified.
"You are your brother's mirror," he said softly.
"The same potential.
The same instability."
I shook my head rapidly.
"No—no—no—"
Rowan wrapped his arms around me.
"You're not unstable.
You're not.
You're not—"
Horace cupped my cheek.
"Elleanore…
don't listen to him."
Chandler exhaled through his teeth.
"He's trying to break her. Again."
Lucian pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Stars… this explains everything.
Why Hale targeted her.
Why the chamber reacted the way it did.
Why the flags kept triggering.
Why they wanted her out."
Caliban's eyes glinted.
"Because she is powerful, Mister Vale."
Chandler snapped:
"She's a person."
Rowan whispered:
"She's hurting."
Horace growled:
"She's ours."
Caliban answered:
"She is a threat."
The room roared with silence.
Horace took another step toward him.
Lucian stared at him like a puzzle demanding a solution.
Rowan clung to me like the world was ending.
Chandler looked ready to commit murder.
And me?
I whispered the only words that mattered:
"Where is Elliot?"
Caliban paused.
Then said:
"Below."
THE HINT
Lucian stiffened.
"Below what?"
Caliban folded his hands.
"That is all I will say."
Chandler lunged.
Horace grabbed him.
Rowan sobbed again.
Lucian stared, mind racing.
Meetings.
Blueprints.
Architecture.
Forbidden wings.
And then—
His eyes widened.
"Oh stars."
Horace turned sharply.
"What?"
Lucian swallowed.
"The lower levels of the Academy…
the ones sealed for 'renovation'…
The ones no student is allowed to enter."
Horace's breath froze.
Chandler's fists tightened.
Rowan whispered:
"Elle…"
Lucian whispered:
"…that's where he is."
Caliban smiled.
And I realized—
we had only reached the beginning.