Val shakes her head, not looking at you. It's Romilly who takes over again.
"It was Fritz," she says, her voice sounding awed. "He…he was everywhere. Every time it looked as though someone was going to get to us, he…he was always there. Eventually, we managed to break through, and we ran back here. That's when…" She gestures to the werewolf's missing arm, the meaning clear.
"And they let you go?" Max asks, surprised. "Werewolves don't give up that easily."
Val shrugs. "Can't tell you. We weren't exactly looking to see if they were coming after us; we were trying to keep Fritz on his feet. He was bleeding like mad, but he kept going."
Max turns to the unconscious figure of Fritz. There's wonder in his orange eyes as he regards the smaller werewolf. "Gods," he murmurs.
"After that, we got onto the main road, and Val brought us into the school," Romilly finishes. "With our headmaster being in the state that he was in…" She shrugs. "It seemed like it was the better option."
"The students attacked you?" Sonia says, her eyebrows raised. "Why would they do something like that?"
Michelle shrugs. "It doesn't seem so unlikely," she says. "Like Romilly said: look at the headmaster. Either there was something affecting his brain, or there's some pretty dodgy hiring practices going on in human schools."
"I mean, there are," Grace says mildly. "But probably not to this extent." She pauses, considering. "Renz…that thing…was affecting my mind," she adds eventually. "I can remember sort of…seeing and hearing things, but I couldn't control myself. It could be the same thing."
There's a pause as you all digest this. It is, you have to admit, the most likely option. Of course, it's also a grim addition to your current reality that you're now apparently facing an entire school full of mind-affected opposition. Until recently, you've had enough trouble from a single mind-controlled headmaster.
On the floor, Fritz gives a soft sigh, shifting slightly. His arm, or what remains of it, has left a puddle of blood on the timber.
"We should get him to Matron," Max says eventually. "Werewolves can lose a good deal of blood, but it's best not to get into the habit of it."
"Where is the headmaster?" Romilly asks, seeming to pull herself back to reality with something of an effort.
"Somewhere in the middle of that damned impossible forest with a splitting headache," Max says.
"Due to a trio of young tearaways kicking the living shit out of him," Sonia says absently. Her focus is still on Val, whose own crimson eyes are fixed on Fritz as Max lifts him, surprisingly gently, in his arms. "It's amazing the sort of things that can happen when the undead move into your neighborhood."
Romilly takes a moment to adjust to this, then she gives a brisk nod. "Right," she says, as though she considers the matter, for now, settled. "We should probably get Fritz some help."
You leave the foyer, following the corridor until you reach the stairs that lead to Matron's domain. You're a strange procession, led by Max, with Fritz lying limply in his arms. Will and Grace walk with Romilly, clearly wanting to offer whatever comfort might be needed. Sonia and Val are also together, with Sonia murmuring quietly to Val as they walk down the corridor. Michelle and Renault bring up the rear, strolling and floating without saying much.
You descend the staircase and keep going, finally pushing through the door and into the lab. Once again, you're struck by the vast emptiness of the space around you, the area that cannot possibly be contained by the exterior's own limits. That, as well as the relentless harshness of the pure white lights illuminating the labs, would be enough to make anyone pause.
As the door swings open, a voice echoes from across the unnaturally large room.
"What is it this time?!" it shouts. "You are interrupting some of the most important scientific work of this generation! I simply don't have time to patch up the aftermath of another stupid turf war or the result of a ridiculous insistence on sleeping upside down—"
"It's us, Matron," Michelle calls, her voice raised. "Got a few new cases for you."
There's a crash, then the sound of footsteps, and then Matron has barreled into view, casting a sharp gaze over your group. Their eyes linger on Fritz's unconscious form, which Max has sat upon a nearby chair, then they turn to look at Michelle.
Matron stops, staring at Michelle's face. "My Gods," they say, the barest hint of a tremor in their voice. "What on earth happened?"
They take a step forward, looking closer at Michelle's cheek. There's a sense that there is a certain distance that politeness demands between the pair of them—one that Matron is keeping themself from crossing.
To your surprise, Michelle shoots you a glance. It's one of the few times you can ever remember seeing her look uncertain. But apparently, she'd like some direction.