Betrayal tasted like ash. Alaric’s face, once a pillar of support, morphed into a mocking grin in Orlando’s memory. Every word of guidance, every calculated push, now revealed a deeper, more insidious trap. His mind reeled. The Alpha wasn't just an unseen enemy; it was a system, a network of predators. Alaric was merely one of its fangs, perfectly positioned. Through the transparent wall, Kane swayed. His opponent, a hulking brute named ‘Goliath’, slammed another fist into his gut. A sickening thud echoed, even through the soundproofing. Orlando pressed his palms against the cold barrier. His knuckles whitened. A desperate, inarticulate plea formed on his lips, but the chamber swallowed it whole. Lights flickered, intense and disorienting. A high-pitched whine scraped against his eardrums. The Re-education Chamber amplified his helplessness, twisting the knife of guilt deeper into his core. Kane stumbled back. Blood trickled from his nose. His eyes, even from this distance, held a flicker of desperation Orlando knew too well. Every punch landed on Kane felt like a blow to Orlando's own chest. A visceral ache bloomed, a familiar agony he hadn’t felt since childhood playground fights, when he’d thrown himself in front of his twin. Goliath grinned, revealing a missing tooth. He wound up for another strike, a heavy, club-like arm arcing through the air. Kane was slow, too slow. Fear, sharp and cold, seized Orlando. It wasn't just fear for Kane's life; it was the raw terror of absolute impotence. He was trapped. He could only watch. His breath hitched. He pounded on the glass, a frantic, desperate rhythm. "Kane! Get up!" Of course, no sound escaped. The chamber kept him isolated, a prisoner in his own torment. Then it happened. Goliath’s fist connected with Kane’s jaw. A sickening crack. Kane’s head snapped back. His body went limp, collapsing to the ground like a broken marionette. A raw, primal scream tore from Orlando’s throat. It wasn't a sound of pain, not his own physical pain, but a terrifying, overwhelming impotence. It ripped through his chest, shredding the carefully constructed emotional barriers he’d built over a lifetime. The scream shattered something inside him. It was the sound of a brother's soul breaking, and with it, the facade of the composed, brilliant lawyer. Childhood memories flashed. He remembered scraped knees, bullies twice their size. He remembered the burning rage, the instinct to protect, even if it meant getting hurt, even if it meant unleashing something feral within himself. That rage, that animalistic urge, had been buried, locked away under layers of academia, logic, and self-control. Now, it clawed its way out. His vision narrowed. The world blurred, sharpened only on the inert form of his brother. A cold, terrifying resolve ignited. His blood ran hot, then strangely, chillingly cold. This wasn't just about winning anymore. This was about retribution. This was about ripping apart anyone, anything, that dared to touch his brother. The rage was pure, unadulterated. It wasn't the measured anger of a lawyer calculating his next move. This was the fury of a cornered animal, a beast unleashed. His hands, pressed against the glass, began to tremble. Not from fear, but from a surge of dormant power, a violent energy he hadn't known still resided within him. He saw the world differently now. The Alpha's game, Alaric's betrayal, the chamber's torture—it all coalesced into a single, crystalline target. Kane groaned, stirring weakly. Goliath stood over him, a foot raised, ready to deliver a final, crushing blow. Orlando’s eyes fixated on the brute, a predator’s gaze settling on prey. Another memory surfaced: a younger Kane, crying after a fall. A younger Orlando, picking up a jagged stone, eyes narrowed, ready to face down anything. That Orlando, the protector, the avenger, had never truly gone away. He had simply been dormant. He hammered the glass again, harder this time. A hollow thud resonated. He wanted to break through, to tear Goliath limb from limb. The urge was so overwhelming, so absolute, it felt like a physical force. The chamber lights pulsed violently, matching the frantic beat of his heart. The high-pitched whine intensified, but he barely registered it. His focus was entirely on Kane, on the threat, on the escalating violence. He saw the weakness in Goliath’s stance now, the slight overextension, the momentary lapse in balance. He saw the opening, the vulnerable points. It was a cold, calculating analysis, devoid of emotion, yet fueled by a profound, terrifying rage. Alaric's offer of escape, which he’d dismissed as manipulation, now seemed like a grotesque invitation. An invitation to descend. An invitation to embrace the very ruthlessness that defined this world. No. Not an invitation. A challenge. And Orlando, in this moment of shattered control, was ready to meet it. He would not just escape. He would dismantle. He would destroy. He watched Goliath bring his foot down. Kane rolled, barely, the boot grazing his shoulder. A gasp escaped Orlando’s lips, a sound of sheer frustration. Kane struggled to his knees, spitting blood. His body shook. He swayed, defiant, refusing to stay down. That resilience, that stubborn spark, was so fundamentally Kane. So fundamentally *theirs*. Orlando felt a terrifying clarity. He would not just fight for Kane. He would fight *as* Kane, channeling every ounce of his brother’s spirit, amplified by his own awakened brutality. The chamber's internal temperature plummeted. Orlando saw his breath condense, forming a single, frost-covered word on the glass wall, a word he thought long forgotten: 'Monster'.

A Brother's Scream