I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse. -The Godfather

John had no idea what to do as a King. He would have liked to go after the writer of that article, but he didn't know who to go to- and the same thing for whoever got away with switching him and Arlo. Maybe Isen? But where was Isen? Blyke might know, but where was Blyke?

He shared English with the two of them, that he knew. But Arlo couldn't just walk into a random class and ask for Isen. He could catch him as he was planning to go in to class- IF Isen was going to attend at all. The only other place he knew Isen would be is the newspaper club room.

As the final bells rang to announce school was over, Isen was hurrying down the halls. The few papers he had in hand would need to be immediately typed up into an article format before he could critique a few people's articles and submit his remaining ones. This week he had promised even more people than usual that he would meet with them, and now he was running late.

But the likelihood of ever getting into the club room suddenly dipped as Arlo's voice rang throughout the quiet halls. "Isen."

Arlo hadn't been behind him a second go- and he was not looking at all happy. Isen hadn't even done anything, and here he was in a grumpy mood. He couldn't imagine what it would be like being Cecile. "Y-yeah?"

Arlo stopped and put his hands in his pockets, nodding in signal for Isen to follow him. They went into an empty classroom, and the door was shut. This couldn't be good news. Arlo leaned against the desk and regarded him with a cold look- one that didn't look much like Arlo's, but more like John's glare of hatred. "Isen, you have information on all the kids attending this school, correct?"

Isen raised an eyebrow and averted his gaze. "Well, yeah…"

"I assume you saw the article concerning Sera-phina?"

Whole crowds had gathered around the sheets of paper. He had thought it was weird that it would be posted on bulletin boards and not in the newspaper, but now he knew why. "The one about her ability… loss?"

"Yes. Do you know who wrote it?"

"No. Cecile kept it anonymous."

'Arlo' seemed to be slightly taken aback by this. Had the blonde really expected the writer to proudly announce themself? Isen had assumed the older boy had not wanted it published. "Where can I find Cecile?" Arlo asked hesitantly.

Never before had Isen heard Arlo sound hesitant. Something big must be going on; maybe John had already flipped. "She's in the press room doing some work."

Arlo nodded and thought for a moment. "I need you to get me a list of students with odd abilities. Anything out of the ordinary… or which induces extreme nausea. I want an accurate one shortly. Make sure you've looked through all the new students, understood?"

Recalling the other times he had given his input, Isen wisely held his tongue. "I-I'll do my best."

Arlo scoffed and strolled out of the classroom. Something had definitely seemed off, but who knew with Arlo? It could be anything, and it could very well be nothing. But there was no use dwelling on it; he had a lot of students to look into.

Cecile had been stamping each paper with care. Some were well-written, some had far too many grammar mistakes to be corrected. Unfortunately, the news wasn't that exciting. Where was Isen? Where was her intriguing top story? He promised he would arrive early and help her with the acceptance routine. And yet, when the door finally slammed open, a pissed Arlo stood in the doorway.

Without a word, he walked his way over to her desk and placed a piece of paper down. Daggers shot from his eyes, but he was as quiet as the rest of the room. What did he expect from her? She made the risky move of letting her eyes drop, and finally caught the name of the article. Fall of A Goddess.

"What is this doing on all the bulletin boards?" Arlo asked as Isen walked in and closed the door behind him.

"I-I… I don't know." Cecile stammered. Nobody knew she had anything to do with it. She couldn't be blamed for it. How would he even punish her, anyway? He had no clue as to what he was doing.

"I thought I told you to keep this hidden." he growled. The look Cecile was given kept her from noticing the oddity of that sentence.

"Look, Arlo. I didn't have anything to do with th-"

"You're in charge of all the news, yet this didn't concern you? Come on."

"I swear-"

"Anyway," Arlo said while giving her a warning glare, "You weren't able to do as you were asked to do." He paused to look around at everyone in the room, as if coming up with the next thing to say. "So, you won't be having any more tasks. Isen!"

Still near the door and clutching his papers for dear life, the orange-and-black-haired boy nervously responded with, "Uh… yeah?"

"You will be leading the school press instead."

No. NO! He can't do this! He has nothing to do with the news! Isen was't even in her tier, and he would so easily give her job to that buffoon? He has no right! He couldn't treat her like a toddler! "Arlo! You're going to demote me when my rank is so much higher?" she shrieked.

"Yes."

"That's preposterous! You can't just bust in and do whatever you please!"

Arlo's navy blue eyes began to glow, like a candle lit aflame. A candle which would burn down the house if you didn't choose your next words wisely. "Oh? And are you going to stop me?"

He was challenging her. Mocking her. He only ever used the hierarchy when it worked for him, of course. Not when he could get in trouble. Not when he could face nasty consequences. Not when his secrets could be revealed.

Arlo's eyes registered surprise when she flung up her hand without warning and shot her green energy darts at him, but all it took was a narrowing of his eyebrows and they pecked harmlessly off his barrier- the damage then being reflected onto her. She should have expected it. There had been that tiny hope she would at least scratch up his arrogant complexion. Though the innumerous cuts stung, her pride was wounded more.

"Get out!" he ordered above the din of whispers. "You will have nothing more to do with the press again."

She caught the looks of lower ranking students and breathed out in defeat. If it was his will, Cecile could hardly do anything. Not without help, at least. She met his eye and went to bow.

"Get out!" he roared. The whispers instantly died off, and Cecile kept her head lowered as she passed him. What else could he get mad at her for? Breathing? Everything could have gone so well. How did he know to speak with her?