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TRAITOR ACE TRAPPOLA AU — “THE BOY WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO STAY”
Ace Trappola was never the kind of person people could fully explain even after they knew him for months.
He was loud when he wanted attention, lazy when responsibility appeared, sharp-tongued when bored, and infuriatingly casual when things should have been serious.
That was what everyone saw.
But what they didn’t notice—at least not at first—was that Ace never truly reacted like a normal student.
He never flinched at danger the way Deuce did.
Never hesitated the way Epel did.
Never panicked like Jack sometimes still did when things escalated too quickly.
Never even changed expression properly when Sebek shouted at him, as though loud voices were just background noise he had learned to filter out long ago.
And Ortho—
Ortho didn’t see any of that.
Ortho only saw someone warm.
Someone reliable.
Someone who always showed up.
“Big Brother Ace,” Ortho would say, bright and certain, as if the title had always belonged to him.
And Ace would always answer the same way.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”
Like it meant nothing.
Like it meant everything.
It was the kind of normal that only looked normal if you didn’t stare at it too long.
But people at Night Raven College always ended up staring.
Because Ace Trappola had a habit of being exactly where he shouldn’t be too early, exactly where he should be too late, and somehow still solving problems no one remembered assigning him.
Overblots, magical accidents, disappearing artifacts, sudden crises—he always appeared just before things broke.
Not after.
Not during.
Before.
Deuce noticed first, as most things involving Ace usually started with Deuce noticing something felt wrong before he had words for it.
“You do that thing again,” Deuce muttered one night while they sat outside the dorm after curfew.
Ace didn’t look up. “What thing?”
“That thing where you act like you already knew it was gonna happen.”
Ace gave a small laugh. “Maybe I’m just good at guessing.”
“That’s not guessing.”
“Then don’t think about it too hard.”
But Deuce did think about it.
Deuce always thought too hard when it came to Ace, because Ace was the first real friend he ever had who didn’t look at him like a disappointment or a project.
So when something about Ace felt off, it didn’t sit lightly.
It grew.
Slowly.
Uncomfortably.
Like a crack forming in glass that nobody acknowledged until it suddenly became impossible to ignore.
Epel noticed next in his own way.
“You ever feel like he knows everything before we say it?” he asked Jack once.
Jack didn’t answer immediately.
“…Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I do.”
Sebek, of course, denied everything loudly.
“That human is simply reckless! There is no deeper meaning!”
But he still stood closer to Ace than he did to most people.
Still followed him into dangerous situations without hesitation.
Still watched him too carefully when he thought no one noticed.
And Ortho—
Ortho never questioned anything at all.
Because Ortho trusted him completely.
That was the most dangerous part.
Because trust like that didn’t feel like pressure until it was already too heavy to carry.
Meanwhile, Ace continued behaving exactly the same.
He joked when things got tense.
He complained about homework.
He irritated Riddle, annoyed Vil, bargained with Azul, dodged Jamil’s suspicion, and somehow got away with it all just enough that nobody could pin him down as a real problem.
Even Leona, who rarely cared about anyone, sometimes looked at Ace like he was something mildly interesting that refused to stop existing in his space.
“Brat’s annoying,” Leona would say.
But he never told him to leave.
And that mattered more than it should have.
Malleus, in his own distant way, called him “fascinating,” and began appearing more frequently than coincidence should allow.
The pattern formed slowly.
Too slowly for anyone to stop.
Ace noticed all of it.
That was the cruel part.
He always noticed.
He just never corrected it.
Because correction meant distance.
And distance meant clarity.
And clarity meant remembering what he was supposed to be.
Not a student.
Not a friend.
Not a “Big Brother.”
But an asset.
A monitored variable in a controlled environment.
A subject under observation.
A tool.
The organization that owned his mission never needed to shout.
They only ever sent instructions.
> Observe. Document. Do not interfere emotionally. Prepare for extraction when required.
Ace read them once and didn’t respond with anything dramatic.
He simply said:
“…Yeah.”
And kept living.
Because living was easier than thinking about what it meant to stop.
The turning point did not come loudly.
It came in fragments.
Small inconsistencies that should have meant nothing alone.
A missing report.
A delayed investigation.
A magical anomaly not escalated.
A crisis resolved too quickly for anyone to properly analyze.
And always—always—Ace nearby.
Always slightly too informed.
Always slightly too prepared.
Always slightly too calm afterward.
Like he was calculating something no one else had access to.
Deuce finally snapped one evening after training.
“You always do that!” he said, voice tight.
Ace blinked. “Do what?”
“You act like you already knew everything was gonna happen!”
Ace stared at him for a long moment.
Then smiled.
But it didn’t reach his eyes the same way anymore.
“Deuce… don’t think too hard about it.”
That was the first time Deuce realized Ace wasn’t avoiding the question.
He was avoiding himself.
Ortho, meanwhile, continued to grow closer to Ace in a way that didn’t feel suspicious at first.
It felt natural.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Ortho would wait for him outside classes.
“Big Brother Ace, I saved you a seat!”
Ortho would bring him snacks.
“You looked tired today.”
Ortho would follow him after missions.
“Are you hurt?”
And Ace would always answer gently.
“I’m fine.”
Ortho believed him every time.
One night, Ortho said something that stayed in Ace’s mind longer than anything else had.
“You are the most human person I know, Big Brother Ace.”
Ace froze.
Just for a moment.
Then laughed lightly.
“That’s weird coming from you.”
“I am not human.”
“I know.”
“…That’s why I said it.”
Ace didn’t respond after that.
Not properly.
Something in his expression tightened and then released too quickly to notice unless someone was already watching closely.
And no one was.
Not yet.
The order came later.
After too many anomalies.
After too many delays.
After Ace had become too integrated into a system he was never supposed to belong to.
The message arrived without emotion.
> Final phase initiated. Return asset Ace Trappola immediately after data completion.
Ace read it once.
Then a second time.
Then looked around.
Deuce laughing.
Epel arguing.
Jack quietly standing guard nearby.
Sebek shouting about something pointless.
Ortho running toward him with that same bright smile.
“Big Brother Ace!”
Ace waved back.
“…Hey.”
And something inside him cracked.
Not loudly.
Not visibly.
Just enough that everything after that felt slightly unreal.
The day everything collapsed did not arrive with warning.
It arrived as a containment breach.
A magical anomaly that forced all students into emergency assembly.
Housewardens present.
First-years gathered tightly together.
And Ace standing just slightly behind them all, as he always did.
But today—
he wasn’t joking.
Deuce noticed immediately.
“Ace…?”
Ace didn’t answer.
And then the voice came.
Not loud.
Not physical.
Just absolute.
> “Asset Trappola confirmed.”
Silence hit instantly.
Riddle stiffened.
Vil narrowed his eyes.
Azul adjusted his stance.
Jamil frowned.
Leona clicked his tongue.
But Deuce—
Deuce just looked confused.
“…Asset?”
Ace exhaled slowly, like he had been holding his breath for years and finally stopped trying to survive underwater.
Then he said it.
Calmly.
Casually.
Like it was nothing.
“Yeah.”
Beat.
“That’s me.”
The world didn’t break.
But something inside the people who heard him did.
Deuce’s voice cracked immediately.
“What are you talking about?”
Ace looked at him properly for the first time that day.
Really looked.
And smiled.
Not the usual grin.
Something smaller.
Weaker.
More tired.
“You guys really didn’t figure it out?”
Ortho stepped forward immediately.
Confused.
“Big Brother Ace…?”
Ace flinched.
Just once.
Barely visible.
And that was worse than any confession.
“…Yeah,” he said quietly.
“I guess I wasn’t just that.”
The explanation didn’t come cleanly.
It came like blood seeping through fabric.
“I was sent here to observe NRC.”
Silence.
“To monitor magical instability.”
Silence.
“To report anomalies.”
Silence.
“And make sure this place didn’t become something worse.”
Silence.
Then softer:
“And I wasn’t supposed to care.”
That line broke the first-years.
Not the seniors.
Not the housewardens.
The first-years.
Because they were the ones who believed they mattered to him in the simplest way.
Deuce’s hands trembled.
“So everything… was fake?”
Ace shook his head immediately.
“No.”
That surprised them.
“No?” Riddle repeated sharply.
“I did the mission,” Ace said. “That part was real.”
Beat.
“I just wasn’t supposed to become part of it.”
Epel’s voice was small.
“So… you were lying the whole time?”
Ace hesitated.
Then shook his head again.
“…No.”
Jack narrowed his eyes.
“Then what was it?”
Ace looked away.
And when he spoke again, his voice wasn’t joking anymore.
“I was trying not to make you all real to me.”
Silence swallowed everything.
Because that was the truth that hurt most.
Not betrayal.
Not manipulation.
Attachment that had never been allowed to exist.
Ortho’s voice broke softly.
“…So you will leave?”
Ace didn’t answer immediately.
Then nodded.
“…Yeah.”
Ortho’s expression didn’t turn angry.
It turned confused.
Like something foundational had stopped making sense.
“…Big Brother Ace,” Ortho said gently, “did you ever want to stay?”
Ace froze.
Just for a second.
Then smiled.
But this time it didn’t survive his eyes.
“…Yeah,” he admitted.
“More than I should’ve.”
And that was it.
No more explanations were needed.
Because everyone understood now.
Not the mission.
Not the organization.
But the part that mattered most.
Ace had stayed too long in a place he was never supposed to love.
The extraction began.
No explosion.
No spectacle.
Just absence.
Like the world forgot how to hold him.
Ortho ran forward.
“Big Brother Ace!”
Deuce shouted his name.
Epel reached out.
Jack stepped forward.
Sebek yelled something furious.
Riddle called sharply.
Vil said nothing.
Azul watched carefully.
Jamil frowned.
Leona clicked his tongue again, but softer this time.
And Ace—
Ace smiled.
Small.
Soft.
Final.
“…Don’t wait too long, okay?”
Then he was gone.
And the silence that followed was not empty.
It was occupied.
By everything he had left behind in people who suddenly realized—
they had never just been watching Ace Trappola.
They had been keeping him.
And now he was something they could no longer hold.
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