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The Prefect Council Room was a massive circular chamber filled with polished marble floors and tall stained-glass windows. A long table sat in the center like the throne of bureaucracy itself.
At the head of the table sat Rayne Ames. He looked exactly as he always did: perfectly composed, expressionless, and so intimidating that even the chandeliers seemed nervous about making noise.
Rayne folded his hands together.
Silence. Absolute silence. Then the door exploded open.
Music blasted into the room.
BWAAAAAM.
A floating piano drifted through the doorway as though it had every right to be there. Seated dramatically on top of it was Margarette Macaron.
Margarette slid one hand across the keys. “Ah, Rayne… I felt the rhythm of authority calling me.”
Rayne stared. “You are late.”
Margarette gasped theatrically. “Late? My dear sword-wielding bureaucrat, music arrives precisely when the soul demands it.”
Rayne paused. “This meeting began thirty minutes ago.”
Margarette tapped a key. “Then the soul demanded a delay.”
Across the table sat Abel Walker. He had already been there the entire time. Perfect posture. Perfect calm. Next to him sat a small porcelain doll.
Abel quietly sipped tea. “Margarette Macaron,” he said without looking up, “your existence is loud.”
Margarette grinned. “And your existence is boring.”
Abel took another sip. “Correct.”
Rayne pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he pulled out a stack of papers. “Today’s meeting has three objectives.”
Margarette leaned forward dramatically. “Ah yes, the sacred ritual of paperwork.”
Rayne continued ignoring them. “First topic: dorm disturbances.”
Margarette raised a hand. “I blame the children.”
Abel raised a hand. “I blame the poor.”
Rayne closed his eyes. “Neither of those are official categories.”
Rayne read from the report. “Yesterday the Lang dormitory hallway exploded.”
Abel nodded calmly. “Yes.”
Rayne stared. “Yes?”
Abel placed his tea down. “A student was being noisy.”
Margarette leaned forward eagerly. “And?”
Abel said matter-of-factly: “I turned him into a puppet.”
Rayne flipped through the report. “It says the hallway collapsed.”
Abel nodded. “The puppet resisted.”
Margarette burst out laughing. “Rayne, surely discipline requires structural damage.”
Rayne continued. “Second incident.” He turned to Margarette. “You summoned an orchestra during curfew.”
Margarette looked offended. “It was a rehearsal.”
Rayne read. “The report says the orchestra consisted of…” He squinted. “...forty exploding violins.”
Margarette shrugged. “Art demands sacrifice.”
Abel murmured: “It demanded the east wing.”
Margarette smiled proudly. “Beautiful acoustics.”
Rayne moved to the next paper. “Final issue.”
Both Abel and Margarette watched him.
Rayne spoke very quietly. “Someone released twelve rabbits into the council room this morning.”
Margarette leaned back. “How charming.”
Abel sipped tea.
Rayne slowly looked up. “Those were my rabbits.”
Margarette gasped. “You brought rabbits to a prefect meeting?”
Rayne responded flatly. “They help me focus.”
Abel looked at the floor. There were indeed rabbits everywhere. One was chewing on the meeting agenda.
Margarette picked up a rabbit dramatically. “Ah! A creature of pure musical innocence!”
The rabbit bit their finger. Margarette paused. “It has passion.”
Rayne nodded slightly. “They are well trained.”
A rabbit hopped onto the table and knocked over Abel’s teacup.
Abel stared at it. The rabbit stared back. Silence.
Abel lifted his wand. “Marioness.”
Invisible strings wrapped around the rabbit. The rabbit dangled in the air like a puppet.
Margarette clapped. “Marvelous! A ballet!”
Rayne stood up. “Release the rabbit.”
Abel sighed. The rabbit dropped onto the table and immediately started chewing his sleeve.
Margarette leaned forward. “Rayne, tell me something.”
Rayne waited. “Why are we here?”
Rayne blinked. “To maintain order.”
Margarette spread their arms dramatically. “Order is the enemy of creativity!”
Abel calmly added: “Order is the enemy of chaos.”
Margarette pointed at him. “You see? Even the puppet tyrant understands.”
Abel stared. “I literally said the opposite.”
Suddenly, the wall exploded. A giant fist punched through the stone. Dust filled the room. The rabbits ran everywhere.
Margarette gasped excitedly. “Ah! A dramatic entrance!”
Rayne turned slowly.
Through the hole in the wall stepped a very confused boy holding a cream puff. (The reason for the hole will remain unexplained.)
Rayne looked at the wreckage. Then at the agenda. Then at the rabbits. Then at the other prefects.
He sighed. “This meeting is adjourned.”
Margarette cheered. “Finally! Freedom!”
Abel stood up calmly. “I accomplished nothing today.”
Margarette grinned. “Then it was a perfect meeting.”
The boy holding the cream puff blinked. The room blinked back.
Dust slowly settled through the enormous hole in the wall like very confused snow. One rabbit hopped directly into the crater and sniffed the edge of the broken stone.
Mash Burnedead stood there with his usual blank expression. He looked at the hole. Then at the council room. Then at the cream puff in his hand. He took a bite. Crunch.
Rayne stared at him for a long moment. “Mash Burnedead, explain yourself.”
Mash swallowed. “I was walking.”
Margarette leaned sideways over the piano bench, fascinated. “You walked through a wall?”
Mash nodded. “There was a shortcut.”
Abel slowly placed his teacup down again. “That was the outer fortress wall.”
Mash shrugged. “Still shorter.”
The rabbits, sensing chaos, began multiplying across the room like fluffy agents of disorder. One climbed onto Mash’s shoulder.
Mash looked at it. The rabbit looked at the cream puff. Mash broke off a piece and handed it over.
Rayne’s eye twitched. “Do not feed them cream puffs.”
Mash paused. “Too late.”
Six rabbits were now eating pastry.
Margarette clutched their chest dramatically. “Rayne! Your rabbits have discovered sugar!”
Rayne muttered quietly: “This will end badly.”
Margarette slowly approached Mash like a scientist studying a newly discovered species. They circled him once. Twice. Mash continued eating.
Margarette suddenly slammed a dramatic chord on the floating piano.
BWAAAAAM.
“YOU.”
Mash looked up. “Yes.”
Margarette pointed at the hole in the wall. “You shattered reinforced academy stone with raw physical force.”
Mash nodded. “Yes.”
Margarette’s eyes sparkled. “You are fascinating, my dear.”
Mash shrugged. “I’m just walking.”
Abel watched the scene with quiet interest. His porcelain doll sat beside him like a silent observer. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You destroyed a fortress wall.”
“Yes.”
“Without magic.”
“Yes.”
“And you thought this was normal.”
Mash tilted his head. “I thought the wall was weak.”
Margarette whispered dramatically: “Rayne… we must keep this one.”
Rayne sighed. “That is a student.”
Margarette placed a hand over their heart. “Exactly.”
Rayne stepped forward. The temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly. Even the rabbits paused.
“Mash Burnedead.”
Mash looked up. “Yes.”
“You are not permitted to destroy academy infrastructure.”
Mash considered this. “What if I fix it?”
Rayne looked at the wall. The wall looked back. “You cannot fix stone.”
Mash walked over to the crater. He grabbed two massive broken slabs. And casually shoved them back into place.
CRUNCH.
The wall was… mostly wall-shaped again.
Mash dusted his hands. “There.”
Margarette slowly clapped. Abel stared in silence.
Rayne closed his eyes.“I am developing a headache.”
Margarette jumped onto the piano dramatically. “THIS IS DESTINY!”
They pointed at Mash like a conductor commanding an orchestra. “A creature without magic standing before the pillars of magical authority!”
Mash blinked.
Margarette spread their arms. “Let us fight!”
Mash finished his cream puff. “Why?”
Margarette froze. “For glory.”
Mash shrugged. “I have cream puffs later.”
Margarette clutched their chest again. “Rayne! He rejected my dramatic challenge!”
Rayne replied instantly. “Well done, Mash Burnedead.”
Abel quietly lifted his wand. “Marioness.”
Invisible strings shot toward Mash. The strings wrapped around his arms.
Mash looked down. “Again?”
Abel tugged the strings. Nothing happened. He tugged harder. Still nothing. Mash flexed slightly.
SNAP.
All the strings shattered. Abel slowly lowered his wand. “Interesting.”
Margarette whispered excitedly: “Puppet tyrant, you broke your toy.”
Abel stared at Mash. “Your body is interfering with the magic.”
Mash nodded. “I do sit-ups.”
Rayne suddenly noticed something. “Mash Burnedead.”
Mash turned. “Yes.”
Rayne pointed at the floor. The rabbits had gathered around Mash. All twelve. They were staring at him.
Mash pulled another cream puff from his pocket.
Rayne’s eye twitched again. “Where did you get another one.”
Mash answered simply. “I always carry emergency cream puffs.”
Margarette whispered: “He’s a genius.”
Abel muttered: “He’s a disaster.”
Rayne looked at the rabbits. Then Mash. Then the cream puffs. Then the rabbits again. “They like you.”
Mash nodded. “They’re nice.”
A rabbit climbed onto his head.
Margarette burst into delighted laughter. “Rayne! Your rabbits have chosen a new leader!”
Rayne went very quiet. “That is not how rabbits work.”
Another rabbit climbed onto Mash’s shoulder. Then another.
Mash stood there covered in rabbits like a fluffy suit of armor.
Abel quietly observed. “He has become Rabbit King.”
Margarette slammed the piano keys triumphantly. “ALL HAIL THE RABBIT KING!”
BWAAAAAM.
Rayne turned and walked toward the door. Slowly. Silently.
Margarette called after him. “Rayne! Where are you going?”
Rayne answered without turning around. “I am ending the meeting.”
Mash raised a hand. “Can I keep one?”
Rayne stopped. Long pause. “No.”
Mash looked disappointed.
Margarette leaned over the piano and whispered to Abel: “This academy is falling apart.”
Abel adjusted his sleeve calmly. “It fell apart when he walked through the wall.”
Behind them Mash finished his final cream puff. And accidentally punched another hole in the wall while stretching.
CRASH.
Margarette slowly smiled. “Here we go again.”
Rayne walked out silently while rabbits followed him like a small fluffy army.
Behind him Margarette began playing the broken piano.
Abel muttered: “I preferred the hallway explosion.”
