Adam's eyes widened as Quintella collapsed on her knees. Fingers digging into her forehead, tears filling her palms, her voice cracked louder than the laments of a banshee.

Discomfort and fury over his girl's body pushed aside, he pulled her into a hug, her sobs tearing at his heart. "Don't worry, Quintella," he murmured in her ear with a soft, reassuring voice. "Everything will be fine by tomorrow."

He lowered her hands gently, locking his assured gaze with her pink eyes. Grief had replaced the usual naïve and eager spark that characterised them. And it made him tighten his lips in a thin line.

She tried to answer, but only managed to stutter gibberish through her tears, her strained breathing, and the drumming of her heart.. He simply nodded at everything for a moment before she recovered enough to form a comprehensible sentence.

"I-I don't want you to become... my big sister." Her trembling arms tightened around his ribs. "It can't happen. I won't let it happen."

Beside them, Mathilde clapped, her cheerful voice belying her non-existent empathy. "You should be happy, Quintella. Look! Your big brother can stay with you tonight. Tomorrow and the next, too. Isolde can make her curse permanent as long as we request it."

Adam pulled back, only to see Mathilde's nose raised as if she were awaiting heartfelt thanks.

Now calmer, he frowned. She couldn't be serious. No one could be this clueless about someone else's feelings. A forgotten face flashed through his mind: Nathan, whose flaw made empathy an alien concept that rolled off his skin like rainwater. But even then, the utilitarian noble understood the consequences of his actions and their impact on others full well. He just chose to overlook or use them to his benefit.

But Mathilde? Mathilde was something else, someone so sure she had done good that she smiled and prided herself all the while ignoring the very sight of her devastated friend. Something was wrong... extremely wrong.

His moment of pondering shattered when Quintella snapped her face toward Mathilde. Jaw clenched, knuckles white, voice a lament that tried to sound aggressive, she screamed.

"Get lost!" She strained against Adam's torso, waving her short arms to hit Mathilde. She continued as the girl took a confused step back. "I never asked for this—not wanted it! You're not a friend, not a human, not better than the Witch of the W—mmph!"

Eyes wide, Adam covered her lips—just in time to stop her from talking about things from beyond the sea. "Let me handle it," he reassured as he pulled back from the hug.

Towering over Mathilde, a muscle in his feminine jaw twitching, he waved toward the door. "You heard her, heard me. A newborn virus we'll quickly remove from our lives, a child we want nothing to do with." His eyes narrowed into slits, his voice turning icy. "That's how we see you—what you are. Don't ever approach us again."

Mathilde's lower lip quivered for a fraction of a second before she forced a laugh. "Can't you see I've sacrificed a hundred points to help you without blinking? How can you chase me out?"

Adam simply stepped forward, hand blurring to Mathilde. Before the girl could react, he grabbed the back of her collar, raising her as if she were a snake that had intruded on their space. "A hundred points belonging to the students of our House. Not yours. Your help is poison. No one wants it."

While Mathilde's legs dangled powerlessly as he carried her to the door, Quintella nodded with a vindictive smile. The desire to threaten her with how Adam could end her life with a single spell, a single slap, seared her tongue, but she swallowed everything down. Adam covering her mouth had reminded her not to talk too much. Instead, she barked. "You're lucky, Mathilde. Pray it doesn't run out."

"You heartless newcomers!" Mathilde's voice rose a pitch as she clawed at Adam's wrist. Mana began to rumble in her circuits, spells forming at the tip of her fingers to protect her dignity. Yet, she never launched them. Rather, her mana sparked and died before her spell could be triggered. Even her trained and reinforced body couldn't affect Adam's deceptively soft skin. "What in Leviathan's name is happening?!"

With a smirk, Adam opened the door, dropped her behind it, then slammed it in her face without answering. The door rattled in its frame, outraged screams echoing before more joined it.

"You think you can dismiss me? Ah! You cost us all a hundred points. You're already an outcast everyone scorns!"

"I'll skin whoever screams this late!"

"Shut up before I come out, Mathilde!"

Adam's chaotic circuits, which had been gulping the ambient mana like a starved Behemoth, pulsed as he covered the room in mana threads. The voices were instantly silenced, and his attention shifted to Quintella.

"Good riddance." She hugged him, and he lifted her against his chest. She sank between two soft mounds that made her bite her lip as much as her eyes widened... Big... but she preferred the comfort of his broad and firm muscles. "I don't want to see her again."

"That's impossible. Try your best to ignore her..." Adam answered before a surprised gasp tore through his words. He lowered his face, only to see Quintella grabbing his chest with a conflicted grimace. Now that he had time to check his body, he instantly frowned. He couldn't see his legs by lowering his face... Too big... The sensations too weird.

For a moment, he remained silent, letting his aching heart settle into calm. Then, he sighed, repeating that it would only be for a day. Still, Isolde's curse defied everything he knew about magic. He had tried to unmake it even as it transformed him, in vain. Shapeshifting and transmuting his muscles failed, too.

The curse was absolute, locking his form for the next twenty-four hours until it faded on its own. That was the magic he came to learn—ancient, dangerous, inescapable. Though he wouldn't curse others, he could find ways to preserve himself from them, and that was all that mattered. But rest came first, even if he doubted he'd find sleep with how frustrated he was.

As he walked to bed, a pensive frown creased Quintella's brow, as if she were debating something with herself. She nodded after a few seconds. "I don't like it, big brother, but you look... so pretty." She shook her head. "Not just pretty. You're heroic like a fairy cultivator with perfect curves. Very stylish."

If Adam frowned at first, disgusted by the hero label, the stylish part unexpectedly dissipated part of his anguish. His lips curved, and he chuckled as he placed her on the bed. "I might as well die if I lose my style."

Pulling the blanket over her, he winked. But she grabbed his hand, refusing to let go. "Since we are both girls, we might as well sleep together," she said, her voice low and hesitant.

Adam raised his brow. "Are you beginning to enjoy this?"

She shook her head, pulling the blanket up to cover everything but her bright pink eyes. "I hate it. But things are already like this, so..."

Adam rolled his eyes, yet the corners of his lips curved slightly. "It's not like you won't sneak on the couch if I sleep on it, anyway." Her delighted smile warmed his chest as he lay next to her. She instantly hugged him as if he were a human-sized plushy. "Your worry touched me. But don't cry so much next time, alright?" He patted her soft hair.

"I'll never forgive Mathilde and Isolde." She pursed her lips. "I don't want to marry a woman..."

Adam froze for a moment, words failing him. In the quiet and warmth, he eventually rolled his eyes. So that was why she had cried as if her world had ended! She was still determined to marry him after growing up! Not happening.

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AN: A longer chapter. Hope you'll enjoy Adam's chaotic day tomorrow... :D