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The corridor of the student council building stretched endlessly before Zyrrak Gildspire, dimly lit by the faint glow of the morning sun filtering through the windows. Each step echoed faintly against the stone floor, much different from the storm raging within him.

The events of the student council eting replayed incessantly in his mind, like an endless loop that didn't seem to be ending anyti soon.

"Tell them everything," Alex had asked him. Zyrrak could also see the confusion and doubt in the eyes of his fellow council mbers, so he did just that—he told them everything. Everything that Alex and Theron knew—the mistake of his past, about how he had manipulated many girls before, all because of his other personality—now laid bare before the other council mbers as well.

He had tried to control his tears, as if not wanting to affect their judgnt, but he just couldn't. He'd cried. A lot more than he had thought. By the ti he was done, he could see many different emotions in the eyes of the council, but one of them remained most apparent: pity.

But there was sothing Zyrrak wanted to see—sothing he needed the most right now—yet he couldn't find it: acceptance.

It was then, as if wanting to add weights to his already heavy heart, Alex, with a calm look on his face, began.

"You need to leave the council chamber for now," Alex had said. "We need ti to deliberate on this."

Those words echoed like a gavel striking the final verdict. Zyrrak had nodded, muttering his thanks before shuffling out, his golden skin gleaming dully under the lanterns. Now, alone in the hallway, the emotions he'd been holding back began to surge.

His fists clenched as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. How had it co to this? Zyrrak had tried—tried so hard to be different, to prove he wasn't like the others of his kind. But no matter how much effort he put in, his nature always found a way to betray him.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His footsteps slowed until he stopped entirely, leaning heavily against a marble pillar. "Why can't I control it? Why does it have to be this way?"

The mories of that fateful day resurfaced, stabbing at him like jagged shards of glass. He had thought he was doing the right thing by suppressing his urges, hoping to spare the council from the issues that would arrive if the sharp eyes of the teachers caught on to him—there was no telling which teacher was on their side anymore, after all.

But his restraint had failed spectacularly, unleashing a side of him he detested more than anything—this ti stronger than ever.

"It's not ," he murmured, though the words felt hollow. "It's the other part of . The one I can't stop."

The duality of his nature was a curse he'd borne since birth. On most days, he could manage it, keeping the darker side of himself locked away. But when the cycle ca—every two months, like clockwork—that control slipped. His other personality, fueled by an insatiable lust, erged, leaving only mories of what it had done for him.

"I-I wasn't in control," he sobbed, his jaws clenched. "But... I guess it was my fault for trying to fight against my nature...'

"You are better than other goblins, Zyrrak." Alex's words—one that he had heard the first ti he t Alex—echoed in his head, but the words that always brought his comfort before hurt him more today.

'I... I'm nothing special, Alex,' he breathed heavily, his gaze trembling. 'I couldn't control myself, Alex...'

His golden fingers trembled as he wiped away tears. "It doesn't matter," he said to himself. "I did wrong. I have to accept whatever they decide. They've done so much for . If this is the price I have to pay to make things right, so be it."

Zyrrak straightened, a flicker of resolve hardening his features. Even if he couldn't control his dark side, he was still his real self, and right now, he would accept whatever punishnt the council deed fit, he would endure it. Even if it ant facing the wrath of the entire academy, he owed them that much.

But just as Zyrrak took a step forward, voices drifted down the hallway, their tones sharp and deliberate. Instinctively, he ducked behind a nearby pillar, his breath hitching as he recognized the robes of two fourth-year teachers approaching.

"Poor council," one of them said with mock sympathy. "They're going to have to make an example of him."

The other chuckled darkly. "What choice do they have? Everyone already knows about it. The academy's reputation is at stake."

Zyrrak's golden eyes widened. He pressed himself against the pillar, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Still," the first teacher continued, his tone turning sly, "there might be a way for him to save himself. If he were to, say, reach out to the teacher council, they might be able to protect him."

"Protect him?" The second teacher snickered. "More like use him. A golden goblin is a rare find. Imagine what they could accomplish with soone like him under their thumb."

Their voices grew louder as they neared Zyrrak's hiding spot. "But he's a kid," the first teacher said, his voice laced with mockery. "So easy to manipulate. All it would take is planting a little doubt in his mind about the student council."

The second laughed outright. "It's almost too easy. He'll co running to us the mont he thinks they've abandoned him."

As their laughter echoed through the hallway, Zyrrak's entire body trembled. He bit his lip so hard it bled, his mind whirling with conflicting emotions. Did the council really want to abandon him? Is that the only choice they have?

He had decided to just accept their decision—whatever it may be—just a second ago, but the teachers' words replayed in his mind.

'Do they think so little of ?' He clenched his fists, recalling how they thought so low of him that he would just betray the council, but if he wasn't going to betray them, then why were so strange thoughts flashing past his head?

'W-What should I do?' He trembled in his spot before a strange glint flashed in his golden eyes. His hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms. For a mont, he stood frozen, torn between despair and rage.

It was only when the teachers' voices faded into the distance, and he was sure that you wouldn't be able to see him that Zyrrak stepped out from behind the pillar, his face unreadable.

The hallway grew silent again; a few shimring tears fell to the stone floor before he turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter with each passing mont.

The faint glimr of tears on the ground was the only evidence he had ever been there.

But just as he left, the wall next to the pillar he was standing distorted, turning into a black swirling ellipse before a person walked out of it, clad in an all-black assassin clothes, staring at the departing back of Zyrrak with a sharp light flashing past their gray eyes.

The next second, with asured and light steps, that person followed behind Zyrrak, their intentions unclear, but one thing was sure: this person was stronger than soone Zyrrak could hope to win against.

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