//------------------------------// // Chapter 15 - To the Victor // Story: Second Chances: A Redemption Story // by Cyrano //------------------------------// Adagio stepped out of the rain and into a familiar diner. The downpour had begun mere minutes after she had left Twilight’s house and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. She wasn’t surprised—no, if anything she’d have been surprised if it didn’t rain, given the situation. Things had happened as they were always going to: the villain had betrayed the hero, and the tragedy of Twilight Sparkle was nearing its conclusion. All she had to do now was take a bow and wait for the curtains to close. She’d won, after all… Hadn’t she? No, not yet. Her hands still trembled beneath her hoodie (though whether it was from the cold or the apprehension she couldn’t tell), tightly grasping her prize. A waitress took a dismayed look at the puddles Adagio was leaving in her wake, but the Siren paid her no mind. She shuffled over to a booth and slid inside, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of sitting in wet jeans as she withdrew the amulet from beneath her shirt and placed it on the table before her. Miraculously, the device had managed to remain relatively dry—a sacrifice she had paid for dearly—but as she looked down on it droplets of water dripped from her nose and hair down onto its polished surface. Adagio cursed, wiping her hands on the the fabric of her seat before grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser to dry her face. There was too much water for it to have any real impact, but one small mountain of soggy, discarded napkins later, and at least she wasn’t dripping anymore. “Can I get you a menu?” The waitress had returned, and was tapping a small clipboard with the end of a pen while eyeing the growing stain beneath Adagio as the moisture from her jeans leached into the seat beneath her. “No.” “Coffee?” “No.” The waitress sighed and put a hand on her hip. “Look, honey, I don’t want to turn you back out into the rain, but if you don’t order anything the boss is going to make me.” “Fine,” hissed Adagio, “coffee.” The waitress nodded and sauntered over to the counter. “Hey, Dark Roast, one black coffee!” A man’s voice responded. “One black coffee, coming right up!” Adagio turned her attention back to the device before her. Carefully she opened the clasp and, mimicking what she’d seen Twilight do just hours before, wedged her nail into a groove. It was harder than Twilight had made it look, and for a moment Adagio was afraid she was going to break the thing (perhaps, if there was any justice in the world, she would have), but in the end she managed to pry it open. Inside was the gemstone… or what remained of it, anyway. The shard had been drained of its magic and its lustre, and what was left was nothing more than a withered shell—an empty facsimile of what once was. Adagio could relate. Slowly, and without daring even to breathe, Adagio reached inside and took hold of the shard. She’d barely managed to get it out when it crumbled into ash, blackening the tips of her fingers and spilling between them onto the table below. It seemed that Twilight Sparkle’s amulet was all that had been holding it together. Adagio shook her head. There was still work to be done. She reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp of her necklace for a moment before finally managing to remove it. She held it out before her, watching as the flourescent light of the diner danced and twinkled within the little red gem. She remembered thinking that this piece of the gem was flawed and dull, but if that had indeed been the case there was no evidence of it now. But that wasn’t the only memory she had of the necklace. The chain had been given to her by Sugarcoat, and while at the time Adagio hadn’t understood why she had done such a thing, now the answer seemed incredibly obvious. In her own way, Sugarcoat had wanted to be her friend. She scowled. If tonight had taught anyone anything, it was that being friends with Adagio Dazzle was a grave mistake. She took the chain in one hand and the gem in the other and pulled. The shard came free with an audible snap. The next step was deceptively complex. She had to maneuver the gem into place and reconnect the electrodes, making sure not to miss any or risk catastrophe. For all she knew, one out-of-place wire could fry the whole device, rendering all the work Adagio had put in, everything she’d sacrificed (and everyone) completely worthless. It didn’t help that while Twilight Sparkle had almost assuredly assembled the device with cutting edge equipment, Adagio was forced to perform the operation with her fingernails and a set of cheap diner cutlery. But somehow, against all odds, she did it. She must have examined the device for ten minutes ensuring that nothing was out of place. In that time the waitress had returned with her coffee, and though she’d given the device a curious look she hadn’t asked any questions before returning to the counter, whistling as she wiped it down with a rag. Eventually, Adagio decided that if there was anything wrong with the circuitry now she was either too blind, stupid, or tired to see it, and closed the little compartment, before snapping the amulet itself shut. She then stared at the amulet and, for ten agonizing seconds, nothing happened. And then: light. Adagio couldn’t believe it. It hadn’t exploded or electrocuted her, it had just… worked. A wicked smile tugged at her lips and she couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe and disbelief for what could have been hours. The device had worked, and now there was only one thing left to do. She picked the chain up off the table and laced it through the loop at the top of the amulet. It felt somehow wrong to use the chain Sugarcoat had gifted her in this way, but it was somehow fitting: another piece of a fractured friendship bound up into the instrument of Adagio’s triumph. Not that it mattered, anyway, the chain (like the friendship that had bore it) was but a temporary measure, dainty, weak, and prime to be replaced once something better came along. Adagio frowned, forcing the unpleasant thoughts from her mind as she prepared for the final test. She picked the amulet up by the chain and placed it around her neck. It was heavy—much heavier than her pendant, which had practically weighed nothing—and seemed to thrum with power and hunger, the same hunger that had haunted Adagio long before she’d ever stepped foot into this cursed world. Yes, this was her magic alright, and all that was left was to see if she could still wield it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to sing. “Ahh, ah-ah ahh...” The notes flowed with practiced ease from her lips. She could feel the ravenous magic surround and envelope her, before extending outwards like tendrils, probing blindly in search of unsuspecting prey. Across the diner, Adagio heard the waitress cry out. “Gosh darn it, Roast, you left the burner on again!” “Excuse me? After all the times I’ve wiped down the counter after you forgot?! Why I—” The bickering was drowned out by a flood of ecstasy. The amulet acted like a valve, funneling the magic from the outside in. She could feel her toes curling and her back arching—oh, how she had missed this!—and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or simply bask in her victory. The flood began to slow into a trickle. For a second Adagio felt like an addict, desperate to get another fix, but she forced herself to calm down. There was only so much magic to be had in this world, she recalled, and while it seemed that more and more was finding its way here from Equestria, it was still a resource too valuable to be squandered. That meant staying away from her enemies (Twilight now counting amongst them) until she was confident enough that she could defeat them, and that meant moving quickly. She’d return to Crystal Prep, gather Sonata and Aria (who, upon seeing that Adagio’s plan had come to fruition, would finally fall in line) and, together once more, the three Sirens would leave Canterlot and… And what? Adagio shook her head again. It didn’t matter—she had the amulet, she had the magic, and everything else was just details. With the power she now wielded there was nothing that could stand in her way. She stood up, not bothering to pay for the untouched coffee she left behind. Dark Roast and the waitress were too caught up in their bickering to notice her leave, and for the second time in her life, Adagio Dazzle walked out of that Canterlot diner with visions of glory dancing in her head. It was almost enough to make her forget about the rain. It may have been morning when Adagio returned to Crystal Prep Academy for what would (hopefully) be the final time, but the endless sea of dark clouds that loomed on the horizon kept any light from reaching the accursed campus. Her first stop was the dormitories. Though she had no interest in running into Sugarcoat or anyone else who might be lurking in the halls at this hour, the waterlogged state of her clothes made the risk an unpleasant necessity. But fortune smiled once again on Adagio, and the door to the building was unlocked and, when she returned to her room, Sugarcoat was nowhere to be found. Adagio let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and felt silly for doing so. Sugarcoat posed no threat to her—even if the girl had noticed the amulet while Adagio got changed she could merely charm her (magically, of course) into believing whatever Adagio wished. This thought brought with it a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of Adagio’s stomach, similar to how she’d felt when she’d imagined Twilight as a thrall to her power, and she quickly dismissed it. These feelings were remnants of her former self, weak and powerless—a self she had left behind the moment she had stolen the amulet. With her casual clothes not an option, Adagio had no other choice than to change into one of her Crystal Prep uniforms. The irony that her ultimate betrayal of Abacus Cinch and reneging on their deal while dressed in the very outfit that Cinch had used to try to strip away her identity was almost enough to bring a smile to the Siren’s face. She dumped out the contents of her backpack, allowing Twilight’s notes and books leftover from their study sessions to spill out onto the floor before stuffing her soggy clothes (her only other possessions that she cared even a little for) into the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. As she turned to leave the dorm room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dark bags hung under her eyes just as the heavy amulet hung from her neck. The amulet seemed to have taken on an ominous (and familiar) red glow that hadn’t been there previously, though whether this was some indication that there was magic stored within it, or some interaction with her own Siren physiology (if such a thing existed in this world) she didn’t know. Whatever the case, the combination of the glowing and her own dark features cast her in a sinister light befitting the villainy that had brought her, and that which was still to come. She had the sudden urge to break the mirror. Without thinking she picked a textbook up off the floor and hurled it at the offending object. Shards of glass exploded outward and Adagio instinctively held her arms up to shield her face. After a moment she lowered them and surveilled the results of her outburst: cracks spiraled out from where the book had impacted the mirror, segmenting it into long slivers that each reflected a pair of angry, distorted eyes back at her. Below it, covered in hundreds of razor sharp glass shards, sat the book, opened to a page sporting one of Twilight’s numerous annotations. ‘This is really important,’ read the note, ‘don’t forget it!’ Anger boiled up within Adagio’s chest and she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Across the hallway was the room belonging to Aria and Sonata, and while it would be easy to simply knock on their door and enlist them right now, Adagio felt herself hesitate. Knocking at their door, allowing them to watch her through their little peephole and consider whether or not they wanted to speak with her… no, it felt too much like groveling. Adagio Dazzle did not grovel, and her victory would be on her terms. She took one last look back at her own room, and saw something that she’d been too preoccupied to notice on her way in: that someone had, once again, vandalized their whiteboard. ‘TRAITOR,’ it said, scrawled crudely in thick, black letters. She didn’t bother to erase it. The door to Twilight Sparkle’s lab creaked open, the light from the hall casting a narrow beam onto the dusty equipment within. Adagio reached into the darkness and flipped the switch, filling the room with the steady hum of fluorescent bulbs as she stepped inside. Yes, it had to be here. The very place that Twilight had created the amulet would now serve as the spot where Adagio would use it to get back everything that had been taken from her—yet another one of destiny’s little jokes. She crossed the room, dropping down into her usual chair which greeted her with a familiar squeak. The motion must have bumped the desk, as the computer monitor flickered to life and, before she could move to stop it, Adagio found herself face-to-face with the static image of Spike. She stared at it for a moment, her eyes drawn to the little box prompting her for a password. She was tempted to see if she could guess her way into the system but, knowing Twilight, the password was probably some incomprehensible string of characters or some impossibly long chemical compound that Adagio had never heard of. But even if she did get in, what then? It wouldn’t matter if the computer had schematics for the amulet since she already had it, and hadn’t Adagio hurt Twilight enough already without access to whatever secrets she had locked away in there? Adagio scowled and pressed a finger to the monitor’s power button, turning it off. All this thinking  was distracting her from her victory. She spun her chair around to face away from the desk and pulled her phone from her backpack. It was a bit damp but, after wiping the screen on her skirt, Adagio was glad to see that it still worked. The first thing she noticed was the multitude of texts from Twilight. Adagio swiped past them, forcing herself not to read any as she pulled up her contact list and tapped on Sonata’s name. There, too, were a legion of unread messages, though containing much less punctuation and a liberal use of emojis, which Adagio ignored as she composed a text of her own. ‘I’m in the lab and I have our magic.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Bring Aria.’ Satisfied, she hit ‘send’ and stuffed the phone back into her bag. Now it was up to them to come crawling back to her, and all she had to do was wait. And so she did. A sudden banging on the door made Adagio start. She snapped to attention, blinking her bleary eyes to focus them and forcing herself to stand. She hadn’t fallen asleep—not quite, anyway—but if the idiots had taken any longer she certainly might have. She took a second to compose herself. Yes, she was tired, hungry, and felt like she’d been hit by an emotional bulldozer, but there was still one last hurdle she had to cross before she reached the finish line. She took a deep breath, put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door, ready to assert her dominance once and for all. “You did it.” Sonata spoke in barely more than a whisper. She stood in the doorway, staring not at Adagio but at the amulet that hung around her neck, its red glow reflecting in her eyes. “You did it, you did it, you did it!” Each word that left her mouth was louder than the last, and by the end Sonata was practically screaming with excitement. She surged forward and Adagio stepped quickly out of the way, unsure whether the girl planned to hug her or make a grab for the amulet. “I could feel it in the hallway. I knew you’d do it, ‘Dagi, Aria didn’t think you could do it, but I told her, ‘Dagi, I told her you—” Adagio tuned out Sonata’s excitement, looking instead to the empty hallway behind her. “Where’s Aria?” she snapped. “I told you to bring her.” That shut Sonata up. She adopted a nervous expression and turned away, though not so much as to take her eyes off the amulet. “She didn’t want to come,” said Sonata. “What?” Sonata winced at Adagio’s harsh tone. “I told her what you said, that you had our magic back, but…” Sonata’s brow furrowed, and she finally managed to tear her eyes from the amulet to give Adagio a look of confusion and the beginnings of panic. “She said she didn’t care and told me to come alone. It doesn’t make any sense, ‘Dagi, how can she not care? It’s our magic, it’s…it’s—” “Where is she?” hissed Adagio. “She’s in the gym. I told her she could play basketball whenever she wanted and that this was, like, super important but—where are you going?” Adagio had stepped past Sonata on her way to the hall. “I’m going to talk to her.” The color drained from Sonata’s face and she leapt to put herself between Adagio and the door. “Wait!” she cried. “I, uh, don’t think that’s a good idea right now. She’s still really mad about the Rainboom-bed thing—even though I told her that it had to be part of ‘the plan’—but maybe if we waited a couple days for her to cool down—” “A couple days? Sonata, we’re not waiting for anything. We’re leaving.” “Leaving?” Sonata’s panic was now in full effect. “But what about Aria? What about getting revenge on the Rainbooms with Principal Cinch?” Adagio scoffed. “Cinch? You didn’t really believe any of that, did you?” Sonata gave her an uncertain nod. “We were using her, Sonata!” shouted Adagio, her patience having finally reached its limit. “We were using her just like I used Twilight Sparkle!” “Who?” “The Rainboom!” Adagio tried to move around Sonata, only for the other girl to block her. “Wait!” Adagio focused all of the loathing and fury she was feeling into a baleful glare. “Get out of my way, Sonata.” “Just listen for a second, please! Aria doesn’t want to talk to you, but maybe if I bring her the amulet, let her feel the magic…” Sonata reached hand tentatively towards the amulet, only to have it viciously slapped away by Adagio. She flinched back, clutching her hand to her chest and looking pleadingly at Adagio. “’Dagi—” “I will talk to Aria,” snarled Adagio. She’d had enough of this nonsense. There was no chance that she would send Sonata to grovel for Aria’s return, and even less than no chance that she’d allow her to lay so much as a finger on the amulet. This was her moment, and she would be the one grasp it. “But what if she won’t talk to you?” “Then we leave her behind.” Sonata’s eyes went wide, and the first of the tears that had been threatening to fall since the slap began running down her cheek. “But we can’t—” “We can and we will,” said Adagio coldly. She shoved past Sonata and, without looking back, stepped into the hallway. “Wait here,” she said, “we’re leaving when I get back—with or without Aria.” “Please, ‘Dagi!” begged Sonata, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to do this!” Adagio let the door slam closed behind her. The halls were empty as Adagio stormed towards the gym. It wasn’t surprising, despite everything that had happened it was still the weekend after exams, so everyone (teachers included) were probably staying as far away from school as they could manage. Except for Aria, anyway, and Adagio and Sonata… Cinch was probably around, too—Adagio had her doubts whether she ever left the school—but failed to show her wrinkled face before Adagio reached the gym. A pity, really, she wouldn’t have minded tearing a strip off of her before she got to the main course. Adagio threw open the door. There was Aria, shooting free throws on the other side of the gymnasium, dressed in the same stupid jersey she’d worn at the basketball game Sonata had dragged Adagio to two long weeks ago. She stopped mid-shot, tucking the ball under her arm and turning to face Adagio. She didn’t look surprised, nor did she make any effort to approach. Normally, the insolence of making Adagio go to her would have made Adagio’s blood boil, but this was different. Adagio closed the distance between them with a slow, confident stride, each step accompanied by a sway of her hips and the echo of her flats connecting with the wooden floor. The amulet hung tantalizingly from her neck, swinging ever so slightly in a manner that must have been simply hypnotic to watch. Aria may have made Adagio come to her, but rather than a walk of shame, Adagio had turned it into a victory parade. For her part, Aria did better than Sonata—managing to cast only the occasional glance at the amulet while otherwise keeping her eyes firmly planted on Adagio. If Sonata had felt the magic from through door and into the hallway then there was no question of whether Aria could feel it now, and knowing that she had just turned down the chance to to have that power for herself… Adagio allowed herself a cruel smile. It must have been unbearable. She came to a stop a few feet away from Aria, and several seconds passed as the two Sirens stared at one another, daring the other to make the first move. Aria broke first. “So,” she said, her voice not betraying any hint of emotion, “looks like your plan worked.” “Yes,” said Adagio, “it did.” They lapsed into silence once again. Adagio was a little disappointed, there had been none of the crying or apologizing she had hoped for, but then again Aria did always like to make things difficult. She waited a little longer, but when it became increasingly obvious that Aria had no intention of moving the conversation towards its inevitable conclusion, Adagio decided to move things along herself. “Do you know why I’m here?” Aria nodded. “I think I have an idea.” “Then I’ll cut to the chase. After much thought, and despite the little temper tantrum you threw last week, I’ve decided to be the bigger Siren and forgive you.” “You forgive me,” Aria parroted back to her. “That’s right,” said Adagio. “You forgive me.” “Yes, and believe me it wasn’t easy. See, Aria, you might be an arrogant, entitled brat who doesn’t think about anyone but themselves, but for some reason Sonata likes you. And, since I’m going to take her with me now that I’ve retrieved our magic, having you around to make her slightly less intolerable seemed like a prudent choice.” Aria didn’t respond. Adagio bristled. “You need me to spell this out for you? Fine. Aria, I am making you a once in a lifetime offer—to conveniently forget all your scheming and treachery, and to give you the opportunity to let things go back to the way they used to be: the three of us, together, with our magic.” She held out her hand. “What do you say?” Aria looked at her hand, then at the amulet, then into Adagio’s eyes. “No,” she said. Adagio’s arm dropped limply to her side. “What?” “No,” repeated Aria. “What do you mean ‘no’?” Aria sighed. “Are you going to make me say it again?” Adagio couldn’t believe her ears. This was not how things were supposed to happen! She was supposed to get her magic back, get Sonata and Aria, then leave. That was the plan. There was not, and had not been, any room in those calculations for this. “You’ve lost your mind,” said Adagio. “This is magic, Aria, our magic. Remember? After everything we’ve been through in this wretched world, how can you say ‘no’ to that?” “I’m not saying ‘no’ to our magic, Adagio, I’m saying ‘no’ to you.” Adagio sputtered. “So... what? You’re just going to throw away your future because you’re still angry over a stupid photo?” “Future?” scoffed Aria. “What future? One where I get to go back to being your lackey? You didn’t even make amulets for Sonata and I, did you? What, were you planning to keep all the magic for yourself, siphoning off just enough to keep the two of us in line?” Adagio barred her teeth. Aria continued. “I meant what I said, Adagio: I’m done with you. Sonata might not realize what a horrible, toxic person you are, but she will. I mean look at you!” She made a sweeping gesture at Adagio. “Sunken eyes, unkempt hair… what happened to you?” “I won,” spat Adagio. “Did you?” asked Aria. “Well, congratulations, here’s your prize: a lifetime supply of loneliness.” “I already got my prize,” said Adagio, clutching the amulet in her hand and holding it out towards Aria. “Magic,” said Aria. “Right. Tell me, does it fill that frigid hole where your heart should be?” Adagio’s hands balled into fists. She could her blood pumping in her ears, and feel the thrum of magic from the amulet, compounding her anger with every pulse. “I never liked you, Adagio, but there was a time that I trusted you. But after last week… well, I thought I hated you, but seeing you now I realize that there’s nothing there to hate. You’re just an empty shell that sucks the life out of everything it touches, and never again will I make the mistake of thinking that you could ever change.” Every inch of Adagio’s body was shaking with rage. She wanted to rip into Aria, tell her just how worthless and insignificant she was, but when she couldn’t find the words to express just how truly and deeply she despised Aria, she settled instead on a threat. “You’ll regret this.” “No,” said Aria, “I don’t think I will.” Adagio opened her mouth to respond, but Aria held up a hand to cut her off. “Just go, Adagio. I have nothing left to say to you.” With that, Aria turned her back on Adagio and began lining up a shot. Adagio watched her, wanting desperately to say something—anything—but couldn’t. Words had failed her… in more ways than one. She turned on her heel and made for the exit. She didn’t run (though running was exactly what she wanted to do right now) but instead forced herself to keep an even pace. As she stepped the toward door she heard the whooshing sound of a basketball sailing through the air and into the net. Adagio slammed the door shut behind her and, blinded as she was by her fury, nearly missed the three figures that awaited her in the hall. Flanking her on either side of the doorway were Nurse Tough Love and her gym teacher, and standing in the center of the hallway with her arms tucked neatly behind her back was Principal Abacus Cinch. “Adagio Dazzle,” she said, “I see you have something that belongs to me.” “I’m not in the mood, Cinch,” growled Adagio. As fired up as she’d been earlier to take on the principal, now all she wanted to do was go. “That’s Principal Cinch, Miss Dazzle, though despite your insolence I must say I am pleasantly surprised. I wouldn’t have taken you in if I didn’t believe there was some possibility of you succeeding at your task, but I must say I had my doubts. But here you are, and there it is.” She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Now, hand it over.” “Not a chance,” said Adagio. Cinch sighed. “A pity,” she said. “I am a woman of my word, Miss Dazzle, and while I would have offered you all the rewards you were promised, I will not suffer this treachery.” Adagio had heard enough. It was time to show Abacus Cinch exactly how terrible a mistake she had made in allowing a Siren to reacquire her magic. Adagio closed her eyes and opened her mouth, beginning the first few notes of a magically infused melody. It wasn’t much—she might have had some magic, but it was still nothing compared to what she’d had at the height of her power—but it was enough to lull Cinch and her cronies into a stupor for just long enough for Adagio to grab Sonata and get out of there. Or, at least, it should have been. When Adagio opened her eyes she was not faced with the stupefied principal she’d been expecting, but a fully cognisant Abacus Cinch. Adagio took a step back. “What is this? What’s going on?” Desperation had found root in her voice, and she placed a hand on the amulet, shielding it from Cinch’s view. She could still feel the magic thrumming within it, within her, so what had gone wrong? Abacus Cinch nodded to Tough Love, and Adagio felt a meaty hand come down on her shoulder. Tried to pull out of its grip but to no avail—with one hand the burly nurse had effectively pinned her in place. “You seem to be having trouble understanding what has happened here, Miss Dazzle, so allow me to explain. You have spent your entire time at Crystal Prep Academy underestimating myself and the influence I hold, while I have never once underestimated you.” She turned her head, and poking out of her ear was the end of what Adagio immediately recognized as being an earplug. She glanced to her left and right, confirming her suspicion that both Tough Love and the gym teacher were similarly equipped. She cursed herself for not having noticed earlier. “Yes, reading lips is a talent that I’ve found particularly useful in my profession. Picking out the words of students in crowded cafeteria or their whispering during assemblies… though I must say this is a particularly novel use.” Adagio lurched forward, hoping that the sudden movement would surprise her captor, but earned herself only a jolt of pain. “There’s no need for that,” chastised Cinch. “You are beaten, Adagio, your little act of treason itself undone by an act of betrayal much closer to home.” Adagio’s struggling ceased as her eyes fixed on Cinch. ‘Much closer to home’ could only mean— “She set me up,” breathed Adagio. It all suddenly made sense. It hadn’t just been a power play to have Adagio come all the way to the gym to confront Aria, it had been to lure Adagio into this little ambush! Aria hadn’t begged for Adagio’s forgiveness not because she was strong willed enough to resist the call of their magic, but because she was already planning to steal it all for herself! “Yes,” said Cinch, “she did, and she will be handsomely rewarded for her loyalty. But if it comes as any consolation, Miss Dazzle, I assure you that the revenge against Canterlot High will go ahead as planned. You have served as a vital component to your vengeance, but have given up the opportunity to see it play out firsthand.” “Wait!” said Adagio. “Let’s talk about this, we can—” “I’m afraid the time for talking is over,” said Cinch, and she nodded to the gym teacher who began closing in on Adagio. Adagio swiped at her with her nails, keeping her at bay for a moment until Tough Love readjusted his grip, grabbing her by the arms and pinning them at her side. She felt the teacher’s hands fumbling for the clasp around her neck, and began shaking her head wildly like an animal caught in a trap, but it was no use. The gym teacher finally succeeded in undoing the clasp, removing the amulet from Adagio’s neck. It was worse than the Battle of the Bands. At least there it had been quick, like ripping off a bandaid her magic had been there one moment and gone the next. But this was different. It was slow, like someone had something within her and began to pull, dragging it out of her inch by inch as her entire body fought to keep it where it belonged. The gym teacher turned and made her way over to Cinch, and with each step the agony grew worse and worse. “Stop!” shouted Adagio. “Please!” Cinch accepted the amulet, giving it a quick once-over before tucking it into a pocket and out of Adagio’s sight. “Now then, I believe our business together has come to an end.” Cinch looked at Tough Love and tapped her ear, indicating for him to remove his earplugs. One of Adagio’s arms was suddenly freed as he let go to perform the deed, prompting Adagio to immediately throw herself at Cinch. It didn’t work, of course. Tough Love was more than capable of restraining her with one hand, as she’d already experienced, and Abacus Cinch didn’t so much as flinch at the feeble attempt. “Please escort Miss Dazzle off the premises. Security will meet you at the gate and ensure she does not find her way back inside.” “You won’t get away with this!” Shouted Adagio as Tough Love began marching her past the principal. “I already have,” said Cinch, dismissively. Adagio took another swing at her, failing miserably as her attempts became more erratic. Desperation had taken over completely and she began flailing violently, forcing Tough Love to drag her down the hallway. Abacus Cinch gave her one last look before she disappeared around the corner, not of arrogance or smugness, but of boredom. To her, Adagio had not been a nemesis to outplay but an obstacle to overcome on her own quest for vengeance, and now that she’d done it she was simply going through the motions. Adagio went limp. She stared at the ground, watching tile turn to wet pavement as Tough Love effortlessly moved her out of the school and into the parking lot. Wind and rain buffeted her, the storm having somehow gotten worse since she’d arrived at Crystal Prep, and before long Adagio was deposited unceremoniously on the ground on the side of the road. She lay there, stunned by the sheer magnitude of what had happened. She’d had it all, and in the blink of an eye it was all gone. She had nothing. No one. Nowhere to go, no plan to fall back on. Behind her, Adagio heard Crystal Prep’s magnificent gate slam shut. It was over.