Hal moved without thinking, his body following a line of thought he didn't remember. All he knew was that he must find a way to prove himself to the man before him. His hand raised, a spell forming from his fingertips, but he couldn't recall what spell he was casting. Mana gushed from within Hal's stomach, flooding the formation in his hand beyond anything he’s ever felt comfortable with prior. The circle spun into being, the mana becoming visible at such a density, and Hal recognized the formation.

Bloated Burning Bombardment, a stupid sounding spell that also happened to be the only Tier Four spell Hal felt confident in casting. Why was he casting that? What happened? Nothing around here posed enough of a threat to Hal for him to use this spell, right? Where was he aiming? Had he checked to make sure no one would get hurt from him doing this? Why couldn't he stop the spell?

Hal asked these questions to himself faster than any other thoughts, and just as quickly, he received answers, but they didn't resemble his normal thoughts. To prove myself, he thought. Nothing strong, but that doesn't matter; another answer came. The only thing to aim at, he thought matter-of-factly. Birnerd's in the way, but he's the target. Why would I stop? I have to prove myself. The responses Hal received from his mind weren't something he felt he'd ever think. They sounded like his thoughts, and he felt like he was the one thinking them, but they weren't something he agreed with.

After he asked the series of questions, his eyes managed to look past the spell at his fingertips to the sight beyond. Birnerd stood frozen, his body shaking from strain but unmoving. Hal could see the panic in his eyes, those same eyes that reflected the blank look on Hal's own face. Out of the corner of his eye, Hal saw the silver-eyed man. At a glance, his face appeared passive, but hidden beneath the surface, Hal saw the light shakings of mirth. Amusement pooled in his eyes, barely evident without pupils, but Hal saw it nonetheless. He enjoyed what he was seeing; he saw it as a game.

Anger surged in Hal's chest. But more than that, fear coiled around his heart. Fear that he would kill Birnerd, fear that someone could make him do something so against his ideals, fear that he had no way to resist. Hal tried to stop his mana, but the foreign feeling part of his own mind resisted. He tried to move his arm, but the grip his mind held on the muscles was too firm. Hal felt tears well up in his eyes, this wasn't what he wanted, but he had no way to resist or prevent it. But Hal wasn't the only occupant of this body.

>INSTINCT, HELP ME.< Hal called out to his brother. His mind was foggy, but not so much that he'd fail at an action he'd trained to do for years.

A painless fire raced down Hal's outstretched arm.

The long sleeves of his cloak obscured his skin, but he was sure the flesh had turned green from Instinct's attention. Hal felt the black nails on his hand extend into razor-sharp claws, but despite Instinct's near-total control of the limb, the mana fueling the spell continued to flow within. The rebel part of Hal's mind fought against Instinct’s control of their arm, trying to prevent him from intervening, but it failed to muster any meaningful resistance. The effort coming from it was unfocused, hazy, lacking any of the intent Hal knew was necessary to force Instinct to let go. Their arm pivoted instantly, readjusting the aim of the spell, turning it away from Birnerd toward an empty section of the room.

>Can you stop the spell? >No.< Hal confessed. His head felt odd, the scene around him fading in and out as he tried to think of anything past his brother.

Instinct didn't continue the discussion, and Hal felt a cold emotion waft off the mind of his brother. It resembled the callous way his mind thought of proving himself by killing Birnerd, but it lacked the madness or the lulled passiveness. Within an instant, Instinct had leveled the spell on the silver-eyed man. His eyes widened in shock at this, and the gleeful look to his smile turned into a cramped one. Outside of this, the man did not move.

>What are you doing?! >He's the one who caused this; he'll either fix it or pay the price. >We aren't here to kill anyone. >That may have been true, but clearly, his goal was for someone to die. I'd argue it should be him. >We don't have to kill him. >Hal, listen to yourself, listen to your own thoughts for a moment, then tell me again not to kill him.<

Hal was confused by what Instinct said. At first, Hal thought he was referring to their conversation, but he found no issue with what he'd said. Then Hal noticed the thoughts coming from the part of him fueling the spell.

>LET GO. LET GO. I HAVE TO KILL HIM. I HAVE TO PROVE MYSELF. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY. LET ME GO, YOU IDIOT. I have to prove myself. I have to. I have to prove I'm strong enough by killing Birnerd; it's the only way. LET ME GO. Please let go; please allow me to kill him. I'll kill you too if you don't let me go. LET ME FUCKING GO.< Hal was appalled at the thoughts, but he could also tell they came from himself. They were desperate, errant thoughts that he had no control over. Yet they still came from his mind, not Instinct’s, nor some intrusive third party. These were the thoughts of Hal, even if he didn't want to admit it.

>Do you get it? I can hear all of them; it's like your, not you, and he's the reason for that. So if he refuses to stop this, I'm making sure he's the one that gets hurt.< Instinct's voice was monotone, but Hal picked up the hints of rage hidden beneath the surface. Instinct was livid at the situation, and nothing Hal said would alleviate that. Especially not while another part of him was screaming about killing a man.

Hal felt the mana in the spell congeal at the center. Given a few more seconds, that gooey center of the magic would erupt, sending a mass of liquid flame-spewing orbs across the silver-eyed man. Hal had seen what the spell could do to the flesh of a monster, what it could do to the environment, and neither was something he wished to see here today. But he had to agree with Instinct's reasoning. Not only because he had no way to stop his brother, but because he tasted Birnerds fear in the air, and he felt the disgusting satisfaction of the man behind the desk when that fear became visible. Even with his mind foggy from whatever the man had done, Hal could tell he thought of this as a game. A game where those in front of him were not the players, but the toys.

"Well, that's not how I intended for this to go." The empty-eyed man spoke, unease in his voice. "I'd prefer you don't point such things at me." His voice was smooth, almost slimy, but it lacked the compelling tune it carried before.

>I’m making sure I can't hear him, Hal, what's he saying?<

Hal's head throbbed, an ailment he'd begun to realize was not shared by Instinct. Still, he gathered his foggy mind to relay what the Silver eyed man was saying.

>He said this isn't going how he expected.And that he'd prefer we aim somewhere else.<

No different from all their other internal conversations, this one occurred as fast as they could think, taking no more time than the pause between the sentences of the pupilless man.

"I'd prefer you aim your spell at Birnerd." The man's voice once again flooded Hal's mind, preventing him from thinking, compelling him to obey.

>Hal, what did he say?Hal?HAL?< Instinct yelled, but it fell on deaf ears.

Thinking of a way to obey, Hal raised his other arm, another, weaker, spell forming on his fingertips as he did so. Unlike before, however, the command did not carry the undertone of killing Birnerd. As such, upon leveling a visible spell formation at Birnerd, Hal stopped, keeping the spell held firmly just before release. Having obeyed the command, Hal felt the haze over his mind fade partially. The order to prove himself still retaining a portion of his mind, but the section he'd used to call out to Instinct returning to him.

>HAL?What happened, Hal? >He's messing with my head.< Hal Mumbled out, the throbbing in his head growing worse as time went on.

Instinct didn't ask for any further clarification, or maybe Hal hadn't conveyed his thoughts the way he'd intended. Either way, Instinct was almost aggressive when he took control of all but their shared head. That same painless flame raced down Hal's arm, the muscles within bulging, the bones creaking from the change. But like before, the mana controlled by Hal continued to flow along the unseen veins within, unhindered by Instinct's grasp on the appendage. Redirecting Hal's newly formed spell to point directly at the silver-eyed man, Instinct remained silent, but Hal felt a cold determination waft off of his brother.

>Don't Instinct didn't respond.

"Well, well, well, this is more than outside my expectations. How are you doing that?" The man with no pupils seemed to beam at seeing yet another spell directed at him. "If I believe Birnerd, you aren't resisting me by having a higher tier class than I do, so how are you managing that?" The man sounded genuinely curious about the predicament, his cramped smile replaced by the look of someone with a new toy.

Hal felt the larger of the two spells directed at the man reaching completion, stepping past the point where he'd be able to retract the mana and stop the magic from casting.

"I wonder how much you can resist." He sounded ecstatic. "I mean, you listened at first both times, so what would happen if I did this?" He stood from his seat behind the desk but didn't step to either side. "Lower your arms." His voice crashed into Hal's mind, crumbling all of his thoughts, but Instinct kept both spells trained on the man.

Hal reeled in the mental space constructed by him and Tinct. He couldn't think, the pain from his head leaving his mind a blank white void. Hal could tell the man was still talking, saying something, but the words sounded like dull thundering drums, not the voice of a man. Hal wanted to scream, but his tongue refused to move. He wanted to cry out to Instinct, but his thoughts refused to align. The drums continued, dun doon dun tum ton, they boomed in Hal’s mind until another spike ripped out from the drums into Hal's psyche. From this spike, Hal found a slight reprieve from the pain in his ability to stop the second of the spells he was fueling, but then the pain redoubled at Hal's inability to stop the other spell.

Crack

Hal felt something give, and the image of a hand reaching from a void flashed across his mind before the pain vanished. The white emptiness created by the headache remained for a moment, but when his senses returned, he found the room in a vastly different situation. The wall to the right was now a burning hole, the liquid flame from the spell rapidly fading in the remains. And to Hal's left, he found the silver-eyed man, grasping at his throat that Hal held in an iron grip.