Up in the sanctuary, Red watched the telemetry of Krax’s descending axe. He watched Tyler’s arrogant face twist into a mask of sudden terror.

Seeing that specific expression on Tyler’s face yanked Red violently backward. And once again, he was reminded of a memory he badly wanted to forget.

They bullied him in a way that left no bruises. There were no physical beatings, no stolen lunch money, no public humiliations in the cafeteria.

To Tyler, Jessica, Brandon, Ashley, and the Vance twins, Julian and Julia, Red simply wasn’t human. He was a piece of interactive furniture.

Tyler and Jessica were the golden couple, the untouchable peak of the high school hierarchy. Brandon and Ashley were their constant shadows, enforcing their social will. But the Vance twins, Julian and Julia, were the silent architects of the group’s cruelty.

The Vance family owned the school. They came from generational wealth, and they operated with the absolute certainty that consequences did not apply to them.

Because Red was the quiet, invisible orphan with a desperate need to keep his attendance record spotless for the state group home, they used him. Tyler would drop his heavy gym bags onto Red’s desk without looking at him.

Jessica would hand Red her empty coffee cups in the hallway as she walked by, expecting him to find a trash can. If they had a shared lab assignment, the six of them would leave early, casually telling the teacher that Red had ’volunteered’ to clean up the corrosive chemicals and wash the beakers.

Red accepted it. He kept his head down, did the work, and focused purely on survival.

Until a rainy Tuesday evening in November.

The school was completely empty. Red had just finished locking up the science wing after Brandon conveniently dumped the duty on him to attend a party. Red walked through the dim corridors, heading toward the secluded senior lounge to retrieve his worn backpack.

He pushed the heavy wooden door open.

The lounge was dark, illuminated only by the streetlights outside the window. On the leather sofa in the center of the room, two figures were violently entangled.

Red froze. It wasn’t a secret high school fling. It was Julian and Julia, the twins.

They were half-undressed, completely absorbed and engaged in an incestuous relationship. The sudden squeak of the door hinges shattered the silence. Julian snapped his head up, his wealthy, composed facade completely obliterated by raw panic.

Julia let out a muffled scream, scrambling backward and pulling her torn blouse over her chest.

Julian’s eyes locked onto Red standing in the doorway. The panic immediately morphed into homicidal rage.

Red dropped his hand from the door and ran.

He sprinted down the dark hallway, his worn sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. Footsteps pounded heavily behind him. Julian was incredibly fast, fueled by the absolute terror of his repulsive secret getting out.

"Hey! You deadbeat piece of trash, stop!" Julian roared, his voice echoing off the lockers.

Red reached the top of the main stairwell and grabbed the handrail to swing himself down the steps, but Julian lunged. He planted both hands squarely in the center of Red’s back and shoved with all his might.

Red lost his footing. The world spun into a blur of concrete and steel. He tumbled down the steep flight of stairs, his shoulder slamming into the railing before the side of his head cracked viciously against the bottom landing.

Everything went black.

When Red finally opened his eyes, the school was pitch black. His head throbbed with a sickening pain. He touched his temple to find his fingers sticky with dried blood. It was past midnight. Julian hadn’t called for help, leaving Red at the bottom of the stairs to bleed out.

Red slowly dragged himself off the floor. He ignored the police and the hospital, opting to walk three miles in the freezing rain back to his cramped room at the group home.

The next morning, Red walked through the front doors of the school. Before he even reached his locker, the blaring intercom summoned him directly to the principal’s office.

Red pushed the frosted glass door open.

The room was incredibly crowded. The school principal sat tightly behind his desk, sweating nervously. Julian stood tall and protective by the window, his arm wrapped tightly around his sister.

Julia was sitting in a leather chair, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed violently. Standing behind them were Mr. and Mrs. Vance, practically vibrating with aristocratic fury.

"Sit down," the principal ordered, his voice completely stripped of its usual manufactured warmth.

Red remained standing and looked at Julian. The twin stared back, a faint, mocking smirk playing on his lips beneath the mask of a protective brother.

"Julia has made a very serious allegation," the principal said, adjusting his glasses, entirely unable to meet Red’s eyes. "She claims that you cornered her in the senior lounge yesterday evening after hours. She stated that you became... aggressive and tried to force yourself on her."

Red felt his stomach drop.

"Julian arrived just in time to pull you off her," Mr. Vance interrupted, his voice a venomous growl. "He said you panicked and tripped down the stairs trying to escape. Frankly, the fact that you aren’t in a jail cell right now is a courtesy I am rapidly reconsidering."

Red looked at Julia. The crying girl peeked through her fingers, her eyes completely dry. She was putting on a flawless performance. They had panicked upon realizing Red was the only witness to their sick reality and weaponized their wealth and status to destroy him before he could speak.

"It’s a lie," Red stated. "They were together. I walked in on them, and he pushed me down the stairs."

"I have the proof right here," Julia sobbed. She pulled a stack of printed photographs from her designer bag and threw them onto the mahogany desk. "He took these. He said he would post them online if I told anyone."

Red stared at the glossy paper scattered across the desk. The images depicted Red’s body slumped against Julia. His eyes were closed in every single frame. A streak of dried blood was visible on his temple, perfectly matching the injury from his fall.

Julian had dragged his unconscious body into a staged position to manufacture a blackmail scenario.