Forced to Betray
Vivian had always known how to keep her head down. In a world where power dictated respect, she had learned early on that silence was her greatest weapon. She wasn't weak—far from it—but she had no interest in drawing attention to herself. She endured the taunts, the dismissals, the constant reminders that her Silverwing Moth wasn't built for combat.
Kyle had changed things.
He had stepped in when no one else did. He had disrupted the balance, forced people to see that someone was willing to stand beside her. That made her a target.
And now, she was paying the price.
---
It started after curfew.
Vivian had been making her way back to the dorms, sticking to the quieter paths. Most students were already inside, the academy grounds dimly lit by the artificial mana lamps lining the walkways.
She sensed them before she saw them. A shift in the air, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against her.
Then, a voice. Smooth, amused. "You're hard to find when you actually try, Marchand."
Vivian stopped walking.
Three figures stepped out from the shadows of a nearby training hall. Talon Renshaw, Elias Vayne, and Corin Locke. Third-years. Level 7 and Level 8 students. Not just upperclassmen—these were the kind of people no one dared to cross. Their familiars weren't present, but they didn't need them.
Talon, the one who spoke, took a slow step forward. His hands were in his pockets, his stance relaxed, but there was an unmistakable edge to him.
Vivian stayed still, her mind racing. What do they want? What do they think I've done?
Elias smirked. "Don't look so tense. We just want to talk."
She didn't believe that for a second.
"If this is about Kyle—"
Talon raised a hand. "Oh, it's absolutely about Kyle." His smile widened. "You've been spending a lot of time with him. Defended him, even. That's… problematic."
Vivian felt a chill creep down her spine. They're not here to scare me. They're here to make sure I stop.
"So what?" she said carefully. "I'm not breaking any rules."
Corin let out a soft chuckle. "You really think that matters?"
Vivian clenched her fists. She had two options—stand her ground or run. Running was stupid. Talon was fast. Elias had reflexes like a snake. They'd catch her before she even made it five steps.
Talon sighed, shaking his head. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You stop hanging around Kyle. You don't talk to him, don't train near him, don't even look in his direction. Or…"
He trailed off, letting the silence stretch.
Vivian lifted her chin. "Or what?"
Elias took a step closer, voice dropping to something almost sympathetic. "Or we make sure people start asking why you're really here."
Her blood went cold.
It was an unspoken rule in the academy—support-types had a harder time advancing. People tolerated them, but only if they stayed in their lane. If rumors spread that she was getting special treatment, that she was using favors to stay relevant… it wouldn't matter if it was true or not.
The academy would turn on her.
They know exactly where to hit me.
Talon tilted his head. "You're smart, Marchand. You know how things work. We're not asking for much. Just a little… cooperation."
Vivian forced her breathing to stay even. "What kind of cooperation?"
Corin grinned. "Nothing major. Just… a little inconvenience for Kyle. Something to throw him off his game."
Elias pulled something from his jacket—a small mana disruptor. Compact, untraceable. A piece of tech designed to cause temporary mana instability during high-energy activities.
Vivian's stomach twisted.
"Slip this into his training gear." Talon's voice was smooth, calm. "Nothing permanent. Just enough to mess with his focus."
Vivian stared at the disruptor.
It was a simple device. Wouldn't injure him. Wouldn't ruin him. Just humiliate him.
Her fingers twitched.
She could refuse. Could fight back. She'd fought before. But even if she won, they'd make her life hell. Kyle would still suffer for it.
Talon's eyes gleamed, reading her hesitation. "You think this is a choice?" He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You do this, you walk away clean. No trouble. No rumors. No more pressure."
Vivian swallowed hard.
She had no choice.
Slowly, she reached out and took the disruptor.
Talon smiled. "Smart girl."
---
She made it back to her room without collapsing. Barely.
Her hands were trembling. The device felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Kyle trusted her.even when he thought she was acting weird and suspicious
She had never betrayed someone before. Never been forced into this kind of decision. She had survived by keeping her head down, by being invisible.
Now, she had to hurt the only person who had ever stood up for her.
Vivian clenched her jaw. There was no way out of this. She had to do it.
And she hated herself for it.
---
Kyle's Disappointment
The Next Morning
Vivian felt sick.
The mana disruptor was a weight in her sleeve, pressing against her skin like a brand. She had barely slept, her mind looping through every possible way out.
There wasn't one.
Talon's warning echoed in her head:
"You do this, you walk away clean. No trouble. No rumors. No more pressure."
She had no choice.
At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
---
The Training Grounds – Early Morning
Kyle was already there when she arrived.
He was stretching, rolling his shoulders as Jace chattered beside him. He looked… calm. Focused. Completely unaware of what was about to happen.
Vivian's stomach twisted.
Her job was simple—slip the disruptor into Kyle's training gear. It would weaken his mana flow, making his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Temporary. Non-lethal. But enough to humiliate him.
Her hands trembled as she slid the device into the padding of his gloves.
It was done.
And she hated herself for it.
---
The Sparring Match
Kyle faced off against a Veil-Tier familiar user with an earth affinity—a standard drill, dodging and countering against a stronger opponent.
At first, everything was fine.
Then, mid-dodge, he stumbled.
His foot dragged awkwardly against the ground, nearly throwing him off balance.
Vivian's breath caught in her throat.
Kyle recovered fast, shaking his head, but it happened again.
When he tried to block, his arms moved slower than they should have. His movements weren't aligning with his intent. He barely avoided a direct hit, staggering backward.
Whispers started.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Is he losing control?"
"Thought he was stronger than this..."
Kyle's mana flickered, unstable. His opponent noticed the weakness and pressed harder.
Kyle tried to counter, but the disruptor pulsed. His mana stalled for half a second—just long enough for him to take a direct hit to the ribs.
He hit the ground hard.
Jace frowned. "That's not normal. Something's wrong."
Kyle pushed himself up slowly, his face unreadable.
Then, his eyes met Vivian's.
And he knew.
It wasn't immediate, but something in the way she looked away too quickly, the way her shoulders tensed—it clicked.
She betrayed him.
---
After the Match
Kyle caught up with her in the corridor leading away from the training hall.
His movements were calm—too calm.
Vivian's heart pounded. She didn't turn when he stopped beside her.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, in a quiet voice, he asked, "Why?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. There was no right answer.
Kyle exhaled slowly. And when he spoke again, there was no anger—just quiet disappointment.
"I would've fought for you. You know that, right?"
Vivian's breath hitched.
Kyle didn't push for more. Didn't demand an excuse.
That hurt more than yelling ever could.
When she finally gathered the courage to look up, he was already walking away.
And this time, she knew—he wasn't coming back.
---
Evening Confrontation
Vivian had spent the entire day dreading this moment. Every glance from Kyle, every second of silence, tightened the noose around her guilt.
Then, it happened.
Kyle found her alone in an empty corridor after training. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. The last traces of daylight cast long shadows through the high arched windows.
Vivian froze mid-step.
She couldn't run from this.
Kyle stopped a few feet away, his expression unreadable. But the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled slightly, told her everything.
He knew.
"Tell me why," he said, voice low and measured.
Vivian's throat felt dry. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but it only made her feel worse. Kyle wasn't angry—not in the way she had expected.
No yelling. No accusations. Just disappointment.
And that was worse.
"Kyle, I—"
His sharp gaze pinned her in place. "Don't lie to me."
The words cut through her, leaving no room for escape.
Vivian swallowed hard. She wanted to explain. She wanted to say that Caleb and Orin had cornered her, that she had been threatened, that she hadn't wanted to do it.
But in the end, she had still done it.
Her silence was all the confirmation Kyle needed.
He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't even looking at her anymore—his gaze had shifted to the floor, like he was processing everything.
Finally, he spoke.
"You could've told me."
Vivian felt something in her chest tighten. "And what would that have done?" she whispered. "Made things worse for me? For you?"
Kyle's jaw clenched. "You didn't even try."
Vivian looked away. She hated this. Hated how his words dug under her skin, making her feel small.
Like she had let him down.
Because she had.
She turned her back to him—not because she wanted to walk away, but because she couldn't face him anymore.
She heard Kyle inhale sharply, and when he spoke again, his voice was colder than before.
"I don't trust you anymore, Vivian."
Her breath caught.
Hearing that—from the very first person who had ever stood up for her, the one who had always believed in her even when she was pretending not to care—shattered something inside her.
She couldn't bear it.
And for the first time, she gave in to her emotions.