It felt like the world was slipping away from me. The healing rune specialists quickly passed by me, heading towards Augustus. The teachers in the back wore expressions of irritation. Some of them were on the phone, nervously sharing information with someone.
Two security guards quickly grabbed my arm and shouted:
"Esteban Valesco, you have been found guilty of your misconduct. A decision will be made in the principal's office regarding your punishment," they said.
They roughly pulled me. The security guards were so tall that when they locked my arm painfully, my feet were lifted off the ground.
It felt like my arms were about to be dislocated. But I couldn't even muster the strength to say it hurt. It was like I had a hundred blankets on me, weighing me down. I slowly closed my eyes and thought. After a while, I realized we had entered the Institute. I hadn't been to the administrative floor in a long time. The last time I was up there, I was congratulated for receiving the scholarship. That brought an odd sense of nostalgia inside me.
They threw me into a chair in front of the principal's office and said, "You will wait."
I waited, and after a while—though it didn't feel like it took long—they let me in, and the security guards exited after me.
I felt a pressure similar to Minerva's, and I struggled to breathe. It felt like my head was going to explode, as if I were deep underwater.
Our principal was a man in his middle age, forged with military discipline. His entire demeanor showed that he had spent his years on the battlefield. His dark black hair was cut so short it looked like a buzz cut, but he hadn't lost his military sharpness. It was clear that time had whispered to him that he couldn't be as carefree as before.
His face was like a map of the past. Deep scars slithered from his throat down to his shoulder, the evidence of the battles he had fought and the moments when he had come face to face with death. His skin was weathered by the sun and wind, and the fine wrinkles under his eyes told of both the weariness of time and the rigidity of his old discipline.
His eyes… That was the most striking part. They were almost as dark as black, an intense shade of brown. They burned like two coals in the void, and when you looked into them, it was impossible to understand what he was thinking. There was a raw hardness in them, a veil that skillfully hid his emotions. But someone who looked carefully could see the deep weariness, the years etched in his gaze.
His broad shoulders and thick waist spoke of strength. But this wasn't the dynamic, tight body of a young soldier. His muscles were still strong and intimidating, but they had lost some of their old steel-like firmness. The slight sluggishness in his posture was a sign that after many years, he had allowed himself to relax. But relaxing didn't mean weakness. His stance suggested the caution of a man who could return to the battlefield at any moment.
He looked at me sharply, and when our eyes met, the pressure on me grew even heavier. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to say something, but stopped. He took a sip of his tea. He drank it silently, almost as if he hadn't drunk anything at all. It was strange.
Then, in a deep, booming voice, he spoke.
Principal Rudolf Severus spoke:
"TELL ME," he said. His voice was so deep, it felt like he was shouting, even without raising his volume.
"WHY DID YOU DO IT?" he asked.
I thought for a moment, and as if he was granting me permission, Principal Rudolf brought his hand to his tea.
Why had I done it?
As the teacher drank his tea, my eyes shifted to my hands. Were they trembling, or was I just tired? His gaze wandered over me, but I couldn't care less about it.
I took a deep breath. I could feel something breaking inside me, but what was it? Was it anger? Guilt? Or was it just... emptiness? Finally, I spoke, my voice calmer than usual, yet inwardly closed off.
"Yes, I beat him."
The words echoed in the room. I didn't offer an excuse, nor did I defend myself. It was as if hiding the truth, trying to make it appear something else, would be even heavier for me.
"I beat him because I needed to. Because whenever I remember how weak I am, it feels like a stone sits in my stomach. When a person feels weak, their inner beast grows. Mine grew."
Principal Rudolf furrowed his brows.
I paused for a moment, then continued:
"But do you know what happened? I still didn't feel strong. Even when he was coughing up blood, there was still a void inside me. People think they'll feel relieved when they hurt someone, but it's not like that. You just sink further. Anger eats you up, you create a new mask for yourself, and eventually… you can't even recognize yourself."
I raised my head slightly, and for a brief moment, my eyes met the principal's stern gaze.
"Blame me, punish me, even expel me. Do whatever you want, but just know this: You might think Augustus got what he deserved or that I'm a monster... But I can no longer look at Augustus or myself any differently. Because, in truth, we're the same. One of us got beaten, one of us beat. But we both lost."
There was a moment of silence.
Then, as if I were an old man, I took a deep breath and said:
"I lost."
And in that room, the deep, silent truth behind my words echoed.
A slight smile appeared on the principal's face. It was brief, but it was there.
"SO YOU'RE REMORSEFUL, IS THAT IT?" he asked.
I raised my voice slightly and said, "I'M NOT, SIR."
"YOU MUST BE. THESE PEOPLE WON'T CARE ABOUT WHETHER YOU'RE RIGHT OR WRONG, ESTEBAN."
"I know you're aware of the truth. But the word of the strong reigns everywhere. If they say you killed someone, from that moment on, you've killed them."
"IF THIS REALITY HAS SUNK IN, NOW GET UP AND GO. GET YOURSELF TOGETHER. IN THE FUTURE, BE STRONG ENOUGH THAT YOUR ACTIONS WON'T MAKE YOU FEEL REMORSE."
I remained silent at his words.
The principal didn't wait for a response and began to type a number on the holographic screen.
"Please don't call my parents, sir. Let's call Aunt Karen, my mom is busy," I said.
The principal expressionlessly pushed the hologram screen in front of me.
"Dial it," he said.
His voice softened a little, and the pressure on me lifted. But I remained silent, as if I had a large lump in my throat.
The phone rang.
Since it was Aunt Karen's personal phone, I didn't hear the secretary at the "Club" entrance.
"Hello, this is Karen Encarte," she said.
The principal spoke in a half-respectful but authoritative tone, explaining what had happened. Normally, this kind of thing would be reported, but since my family wasn't present, the principal felt it appropriate to handle it this way.
Aunt Karen, after learning what had happened, said:
"Okay, I'll be there right away," she said.
The principal gestured for me to leave, and I walked out with her toward the waiting area.
On our way to the door, I saw Augustus and Alice being escorted into a special vehicle. We noticed them from afar, but I didn't want to go any closer.
I tugged on Aunt Karen's waist and whispered, "Please stop."
She listened, and once they left, we slowly got into Aunt Karen's old car, which had the style of the '20s.
She didn't start the car, but looked at me. I looked back at her. It was as if her eyes were silently urging me to speak.
I was about to say something, but it felt like the dam in my eyes had broken. At first, I didn't know what to say, but in the end, I said nothing.
Aunt Karen hugged me tightly, and in a hypnotic tone, she said, "It's over, darling..."
Then, I couldn't stop my sobs. I cried for minutes, unable to control the tears.