Decha heard a soft groan that jolted him awake. He fell asleep waiting for Rory to wake up. When Decha came to school, he was just getting off of night patrol by the border. When he arrived, he wasn't expecting to hear Rory screaming her lungs out from the roof of the main office.

Decha immediately ran inside and alerted Dean Risor about Rory's distress. Risor was a lot slower than Decha. Decha's inner general kicked in, explaining why he was able to get to the roof so fast.

It also contributed to his blacking out when he saw Rory about to be tossed off the edge of the building.

The adrenaline rush wore off the moment he sat next to the bed. His exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep. When he realized, he shot up out of his seat so Rory couldn't see him.

It was already too late. Rory woke up a few minutes before. She felt sore, extremely sore. It felt like her arms and legs had been crushed because they were too heavy for her to raise.

Rory started groaning because she wanted water. Her throat was dry. But she didn't want to alarm the general who sat beside her. The groaning sound was just her trying to sit up on her own and get something to drink.

Decha wiped his face, rubbing his eyes to keep awake. "How do you feel?"

Rory finally managed to ease up, but Decha monitored her movements carefully. "Take it easy."

"Water," Rory murmured while looking down. She refused to look into his eyes. Everything was coming back to her slowly. The images of Terence beating her almost to death flashed in the front of her mind.

How she got here, she couldn't remember. Perhaps it was he who saved her. But she felt ashamed.

Decha grabbed a bottle of water from a minifridge, he would pay the staff back later. Then he handed it to Rory, she took off the mask that was supplying her with oxygen and drank.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the TV screen above. The same news report from hours earlier was still broadcasting. When she saw the devastation, houses that were demolished, the blurred-out images of dead bodies, and the people in distress, her heart sank to her stomach.

She felt lightheaded. She wasn't involved with the bombing, but even she was starting to feel that the Bracketers were behind it. It didn't matter how much the Astellians screwed them over, innocent lives didn't need to be taken.

Rory felt like she had to puke. At the same time, she felt like she wanted to cry. Her breath came out shaky, and Decha noticed. He took the bottle of water away from her and fixed the mask on her face, but she snatched it off.

"What are you—"

"I don't need it." Rory coughed. "I'm fine."

Decha dropped his hands to his side and turned his back. He knew she was lying, but decided to leave her be. "I've already reported the incident to Dean Risor. He'll be handling the situation according to the right procedures. I've also checked, and nothing of yours is broken. There are some minor bruises on your legs and arms, but they'll heal in a few weeks." Decha stopped when he turned back around and saw tears streaming down Rory's face.

He wasn't sure what to do. "Uh..."

He walked back over to her, but she turned away from him. She was embarrassed for crying in front of him.

"Does anything hurt? Do you need any pain meds?"

"Please, can you leave the room for a moment?" Rory sobbed, wiping some of her tears away, but they didn't stop flowing. It didn't help that her heart was heavy, and she was also in a lot of pain.

There were so many emotions running around within her. Fear, Terror, Anger, Shame, and worst of all, Guilt.

"I can call for transportation to the hospital if you want," Decha persisted, knowing well he couldn't leave her by herself in the state she was in. He reached up to her cheek. "Let me change the patch on your face—"

"Please, leave me be." Rory dodged his hand. "I need some time to think. And I can't think with you in here."

"I'm not going to leave the room until you're stable, and until your guardian arrives to take you back home."

"My guardian?"

"Your father. Risor alerted him some time ago."

"... WHY would you let him do that?" Rory's voice cracked, and Decha could hear the pain in her tone.

"I wasn't supposed to?" He scoffed. "You should be grateful. If it weren't for me, you would've been tossed off the roof earlier. If it weren't for Risor, you'd have no witness on your side to help you report the Assault."

"You don't understand anything! My father is— he's a Bracketer!"

"I'm aware."

"My father is strict. Everything I do, say, or eat is watched by him. And if it regards anything about Astell, he gets a lot worse!" Rory knew it. Her father wouldn't let her attend Grandell after this. His hate would burn for the Sector. Everything she tried to convince him of would be wasted.

Rory was so upset she hadn't even realized she stood up. Decha nudged her shoulder softly, but she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!"

"You need to rest. You're still—"

"Why won't you leave me alone!?" Rory hollered, having enough of his fraudulent concern. Why was he standing there pretending to care about her injuries? He was an Astellian general. He was aware of the bombs, but why wasn't he blaming her?

Was it because of his job? Was it because she owed him money? As of now, she didn't know who to trust. Up until almost being killed, she felt that no Astellian was as crazy as her father made it out to be.

"It is a part of my job," Decha answered monotonously.

"I can't stand the sight of you." Rory spat.

"I can't stand the sight of you either, but by law, I am obligated to protect everyone from Sector A and Sector B regardless of what they think of me." Decha took a step forward, keeping his empty black pupils on her. Rory hated to admit it, but she felt horrified by the look he gave her.

"So I suggest you sit down, cry as much as you need to, and get some rest. Because until my duties are completed, I'm not going anywhere." Decha leaned forward, and Rory felt her body move in sync with his authority. She hadn't realized she sat down until Decha leaned back. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes." Rory nodded frantically, wondering what the heck just happened. Decha used the same tone to establish his role as a high-ranking general on her, and he wasn't ashamed of it.

"Great. We'll get along well then." Decha nodded, satisfied with her response. The door to the infirmary opened, and in walked Dean Risor. He had a worried expression on his face.

"I need you for a second, N9– Asher." Risor glanced at Rory briefly. "You can stay here, Miss Clarke. Your father is here, we just need to handle some paperwork." He lied.

Rory nodded, but Decha knew that the situation was about to get messy. He followed Risor out, but the moment he saw Terence, an older version of Terence, most likely his father, and Rory's father standing in the lobby, he locked the infirmary door behind him.

"How to proceed?" Decha eyed Risor apprehensively.

"With caution, and keep the two apart. I haven't told the parents about the issue yet." Risor advised, and switched his facial features in a way the three in front of him wouldn't decipher. "Gentlemen—"

"Risor, you've got a lot of nerve calling me here from my office. I was in a business meeting, what was so important that I had to take a shuttle from uptown? Couldn't we have met another day?"

"Mr. Stern, please let me speak. I know you both were very busy, but this is extremely important." Risor motioned toward the seats. Horace Stern, Terence's father sat next to his son.

Jamison was about to take a seat, but Horace stopped him. "You're going to let a Bracket man defile your seats?"

"You both are welcome to." Risor sat across from them and glared at Terence. Horace scoffed and crossed his arms. Jamison decided not to sit and brushed his dirty oily pants off.

"What's this about? You said something about my Daughter—"

"We'll get to that. First I want to just remind you of our code of conduct. As Astellians—"

"And Bracketer," Horace muttered viciously.

"The rule of Astell is to show respect to anyone and everyone. We don't interrupt to force a point, we don't act like wild animals, and we will settle things like the adults we are." Risor cleared his throat, "Mr. Clarke, there was an incident that occurred today, one that I am very ashamed of and disturbed to say. I try my utmost to keep my students safe. But today, your daughter—"

"What happened to Rory?" Jamison stepped forward anxiously. All he needed to hear was the word safe to get his blood rushing.

"Terence Stern, the Astellian student here got into a mix-up of some sort with Rory. Now, I will say she is safe and she is resting right now—"

"A mix-up? What do you mean by a mix-up?"

"I gave her what she deserved." Terence spat. "A good old treat called vengeance."

Decha strolled casually to the side, and stood near Risor, waiting for the command to commence. Terence sounded too much like Lindsey. It irked him immensely. His stance was a warning.

"Young Man, you are not a war hero. What you did today was downright criminal." Risor scolded him. "It was revolting."

"What did he do?"

"He hit Rory and tried to throw her off our main building. Now before you get upset—"

"You put your hands on my daughter?" Jamison's eye twitched, and his arms tensed. Even Decha knew to tread carefully. "Did you touch my little girl?"

"Is that true, Terence? Or did she hit you first?" Stern spat, refusing to believe that his son initiated a fight for no reason.

"Yeah, I hit her." Terence huffed. "What gives her any right to be here? These people are murderers, they kill Astellians. I only did us a favor by stopping another trash Bracketer from causing any more harm."

"Nothing has been confirmed yet."

"They killed my mother!" Terence roared, and Jamison lunged for him. Decha stepped in immediately and forced Jamison off Terence.

"You hurt my daughter!" Jamison let out a bunch of slurs, offending Stern greatly. "Let me go! I'll snap his neck!" Jamison tried shoving Decha off. "Release me!"

"You're threatening my son?" Stern scoffed. "He's in the right! What's a place like Grandell doing letting people as filthy as you breathe the same air as our kind?! Look at you! I should have you arrested for your violent words!"

"Men! Settle down!" Risor stood, raising his voice in a way Decha never heard before.

"MY DAUGHTER ALMOST DIED! YOU WANT ME TO SETTLE DOWN?"

"My son was defending his rights! Seeing how violent and irritable you are, it makes sense as to why Terence went after her! The poison apple doesn't fall too far from the rotten tree!"

"Mr. Clarke! Mr. Stern! If you do not handle yourself with class, I'll have to call the authorities." Risor snapped. "I've already decided how to handle this."

"Great. Then you should have this bum and his offspring removed and restricted from ever stepping foot in Sector A again." Horace straightened his jacket, and Risor shook his head in amusement.

"Actually, it is your son who I've documented to have an expulsion from Grandell."

"What!?" Horace choked on his spit. "What did my son do to be removed?"

"Murder is a serious crime, Mr. Stern."

"The wench is alive, isn't she? Didn't you say that she was resting?"

"What did you say about my daughter you punk Astellian dastard? Say it again! My piss is the same color as the streets you walk on!" Jamison's remark made Decha smile. One that he tried so hard to hide. It was a slur, but one he always agreed with.

"Attempted murder is just as serious."

"You can't expel my son! My grandfather was the founder! Without him, you wouldn't have this job! What would it look like if you removed a Stern from Grandell? Our legacy will be ruined!"

"Your son can continue his studies elsewhere. His credits will remain intact. But you know well, crime is not accepted here. No graduate of Grandell's has a criminal record or will be allowed to attempt a crime on campus."

"If you expel my son, all your funding will go down the drain! I paid good money for—"

"Since it is his last year, we will refund you half a year's tuition, since that is all he has left. And sir, the council are the ones who fund this place. If you have a complaint, take it up with them. I don't think it'll do you well. I've already filed a case against Terence and sent in evidence. They're aware of Rory's mistreatment." Risor concluded, "As for you, Mr. Clarke, I suggest you take Rory away and have her break from classes until the news has died down. We don't want her to be targeted."

"No need. I'll withdraw her from this school."

"I'm sorry?" Risor narrowed his eyes, shocked at Jamison's response. "What?"

"I'll take my daughter and be out of your way. Where is she?" Jamison shoved Decha off and walked toward the door to the infirmary.

"Sir, please wait—"

"Who locked the door? Open it!" Jamison sneered at Risor.

"One moment." Decha stepped forward and flicked the lock to the side. When the door clicked and opened, Jamison stormed in. When he saw his daughter in tears, he felt angrier.

"Let's go, Rory. I'm taking you home."

"Dad, I—"

"I know, they told me what happened. Let's go." He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the room.

"Mr. Clarke, please reconsider withdrawing Rory. She's an exceptional student—"

"Shut up, and get out of my way!" Jamison snarled. Rory on the other hand was surprised to hear that her father planned on taking her out of Grandell. Where would she go if not Grandell? Before she could say a word, her father pulled her forward.

Risor shot a look to Decha, a signal. It was a request to try and stop Jamison from leaving. Decha sighed. He didn't want to be involved and didn't care that much about Rory's attendance. He wasn't planning on continuing the whole student act for much longer anyways.

Decha grumbled furiously and strode after them.

Rory tried to pull away from her father, but he was stuck in his frustration he hadn't noticed her cries. "Dad! Daddy, it hurts!" Rory yelped, finally getting his attention. "I don't want to withdraw!"

"You don't have any choice! These people are too dangerous for you to handle! I should've known you weren't ready for this!"

"I'm not withdrawing. I may be sick, but I'm an adult! Without Grandell, I don't have anything else!"

"You're not coming back! You're not physically well to take care of yourself! Not on your own, Rory." Jamison swallowed hard. "Rory, without Grandell you can still do plenty. You're my daughter. I raised you well. But I'm not going to have these Astellian scums take you away from me like they took your mother!"

"Rory." Decha approached them but stopped when Jamison turned to face him. "Make sure to change the patch." He extended a small medical bandaid to her, but Jamison stubbornly slapped it away.

"Who the heck are you?"

"Dad, he's my friend. He saved me—"

"You don't have Astellian friends." Jamison snapped at her. "You're the same as the rest of them. You pretend to care but you don't. We all know you're trying to make yourself look better than us Bracketers. But you're no better!"

"I'm only doing my job."

Jamison felt something in him tick. Rory saw it coming, but she couldn't stop her father in time. Jamison smacked Decha in the face as hard as he could. Decha whipped to the side but stood in place.

"Dad! Stop it!" Rory screamed.

"You're an ungrateful child! I'm doing everything I can to help you! Stay away from this idiot!"

"Darn," Decha wiped his lips, watching blood deep onto his fingers. The hit managed to cut his lip, but not enough to hurt him. He watched Jamison drag Rory away toward the gates, and huffed. "Risor can't tell me I didn't try."

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