Cross Conviction

Max closed the twenty-five-meter distance between himself and the swordsman in one second flat before bounding into the air, ready to strike. In response, Sturm swiftly dropped his hand from Emmy's hair to her shoulder and threw her upward into his assailant. The girl collided with Max in the air, launching them both backward. After a brief flight, Emmy's unconscious body landed atop Max a fair distance from the clash.

"H-hey..." groaned a stunned Max, "wake up, Emmy. Are you okay?"

She did not respond. As Sturm slowly approached the incapacitated knight candidates, Max rolled out from underneath Emmy and began to shake her frantically.

"Ya gotta wake up!" Max shouted centimeters from the girl's face. "Come on, Sturm's lost his mind!"

With Emmy still totally unresponsive, Max scrambled to his feet and put himself between the swordsman and his knocked-out ally.

Sneering uncharacteristically, Sturm held his teammate at his blade's end. "Is something troubling you, friend? Could I trouble you to wait for your turn?" the swordsman inquired, motioning with his saber for Max to step aside.

Max was totally at a loss. Something about Sturm's appearance was off-putting, and though an ominous suspicion gnawed at the boy's subconscious, he could not identify its exact cause. Perhaps it was Sturm's mannerisms. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Desperate for any explanation, Max hazarded the first assumption that came into his mind. "So what, did you run into a psychic and get might-controlled or something?" Max pushed, "I thought you were better than that!"

Sturm scoffed. "The honest truth?" started Sturm, "Perish the thought. This was my intention all along. Infiltrate, foster complacency, and burn this school to ashes. And, of course, take as many of you down as possible in the process."

"Burn the school?" Max questioned with a tilt of his head, "It's massive and made of brick and stone! How the hell would you do that?"

"Quite easily, really," Sturm continued, "A few well-placed incendiary explosives will sear the wooden innards of this complex, leaving behind nothing but a charred husk."

"But why?!" cried Max.

Grinning, Sturm shook his head dismissively. "For the revolution, of course."

"The revolution...?" Max repeated in awe, "You're talking like a damned red!"

"I am a 'red', friend," Sturm replied matter-of-factly.

Max's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Yeah fuckin right, man. At least I know who the scumbags responsible for taking over your brain are, now."

"Ha!" laughed Sturm, "As I already explained, no one has 'taken over my mind', friend.

"Hey, shut the fuck up, man!" Max exclaimed aggressively, "I don't give a shit what else you have to say, alright!"

In truth, the possibility that his teammate had been an enemy operative troubled Max greatly. He didn't want to believe it, but the more he considered such prospects, the more he realized that he might not have known Sturm as well as he believed. After all, the two had only met weeks prior. They got along well, but did he really know Sturm well enough to call him a friend?

A sudden coughing alerted Max. Emmy returned to consciousness, jerked up to a sitting position, and cleared her throat.

"Max? What's going on? Where is Metzeld?" she groaned in confusion.

Careful not to take his eyes off of Sturm, Max answered the girl without looking back. "He's still down the hall... past Sturm."

"Sturm?" Emmy inquired curiously as she rubbed the side of her head, "He's okay?"

Sturm chuckled through a sly grin.

"No, he isn't," Max replied, "There's something wrong with him. I... think he's the one who messed up your buddy."

Emmy's eyes widened in shock. "What? W-why would he do that? H-he promised he'd help him..."

"I don't know," said Max, "He knocked you out and almost... got you good. I think someone is controlling him- making him act like a weirdo. We gotta find a way to snap him out of it!"

"Tsk-tsk," Sturm clicked, "As I have already informed you, there is not a thing that I need to be snapped out of!"

Max balled his hands into fists. "Quit talking like that before I knock your teeth-"

Jumping to her feet, Emmy grabbed Max by the shoulder and cut him off. "Stop it, Max! We have to try and get through to him! If he's being controlled, he must still be in there somewhere."

A bead of sweat ran down Max's brow as he gritted his teeth anxiously. "W-well what the hell do you suggest, then?!"

"Perhaps if we remind him of who he really-"

"Nah," said Max abruptly, "You were out cold so you haven't seen what a dick this guy is, yet. He's just talking about stupid shit."

Emmy glanced back and forth between Sturm and Max. "Um, w-well, maybe that's because you're not talking to Sturm... you're talking to the person who took over his mind."

Max squinted one eye skeptically. "Yeah, obviously. Like I said, someone else is in there."

"But then... what if we try speaking past that person," she proposed, "What if we try addressing Sturm directly?"

"You mean like saying his name?" asked Max.

Emmy nodded. "Mhm, exactly."

Though he had strong doubts, Max decided that anything was worth trying if it might avoid a direct confrontation. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his closest ally.

"Alright," said Max, "I'll give it a try."

Raising an eyebrow, Sturm cocked his head and lowered his blade somewhat. "Please, do make your best attempt. I will pre-emptively warn you of its futility, however. You had best not raise your hopes."

Brushing off the heckling, Max attempted to reach his friend's psyche. "Hey, Sturm! You in there, man? Some jerk snagged your body and is making a total joke out of you! Ya gotta push him out of there!"

The smirk was lifted from Sturm's face but he was otherwise unresponsive.

"Come on," Max continued, "We need you, buddy! This freak used your body to bang up Whirlwind and Emmy. I'm gonna need your help to get everyone out of here."

A slight twitch became apparent in Sturm's right eye. Picking up on this, Emmy joined in to help free the swordsman's consciousness from the grip of the unknown perpetrator. 

"I believe in you, Sturm," she added, "That's why I trusted you to help Whirlwind in the first place. I know you can break free..."

Amazingly, their pleas seemed to have some effect on the young knight candidate who, with a trembling hand, sheathed his saber and took a hobbled step toward the two.

Max's face lit up optimistically in response. "There ya go! I knew you were in there, buddy! You got this, you're the toughest guy I know!"

Though he cringed in apparent pain, Sturm managed to push on, walking up to Max before gripping the boy's right arm firmly. With an excited smile, Max eagerly patted his friend on the back, drawing him closer.

"We got ya, man," said Max, "You feeling better, now?"

"Y-yeah..." Sturm groaned quietly, "I think so..."

"Great! Think you can help me carry Whirlwind back to-" Max gasped suddenly, his words cut short by a sharp pain shooting from his lower left torso.

From behind, Emmy was unable to see what had caused Max's pained exhalation. "Max? What's wrong?" she inquired anxiously.

With slow and shaky movement, Max tilted his head downward. To his shock, he found that Sturm had plunged a knife into his flesh. Sudden panic overtaking him, Max jerked backward, pulling the knife free, before stumbling a few steps to the right and slumping back against the wall.

"Shit..." Max growled, "Shit, shit..."

Horrified, Emmy placed a hand over her mouth. "Oh no..." she uttered under her breath. 

"Now then..." started Sturm, flicking the blue blood coating his knife onto the tile floor at Emmy's feet, "You and I have some unfinished business to return to, my dear. Would you be so kind as to stay perfectly idle as I resolve my original intentions?"

Emmy ignored the swordsman and quickly rushed to Max's aid, dropping to her knees next to him. She then places her palms atop the dark blue stain showing through Max's grey jacket and sucked the heat energy from the area, freezing it. The hasty nature of the heat extraction, however, had the unfortunate side effect of burning the girl's hands a raw red. As the flesh surrounding his wound was numbed, Max's pained expression subsided somewhat. 

"No way..." Max said with a wince, "I had no idea you could do that. That's crazy..."

There was no time to spare. Emmy put her arm around Max and helped him back to his feet. Though his footing was awkward, Max managed to strike a defensive pose alongside the girl as calcified blades erupted from both of his sleeves. 

"Careful, Max," Emmy warned, "If your movements are too sudden, the ice crystals will damage the surrounding tissue."

Max's eyes narrowed. "The what?"

"I-I mean it'll get worse," she reaffirmed.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind the two injured knight candidates. "Worse than this? I have my doubts."

Knowing the gruff tone all too well, Max quickly turned his head to meet the new arrival. "Captain?!" he exclaimed.

Indeed, the man who had just rounded the corner was none other than Captain Scharf. His one eye darted around the hall, swiftly taking in every detail of the scene unfolding before him.

"Finally here to offer your assistance?" Sturm called out mockingly.

Scharf simply crossed his arms, walked across the hall, and leaned against the wall. "I don't think so," he answered nonchalantly. 

"What?!" cried Max frantically, "You're going to stand there while your students get killed?!"

The captain said nothing.

"Um, Max..." Emmy said quietly, "Captain Scharf doesn't know what's going on here. We're fighting your teammate, remember?"

"Damn it..." groaned Max. "Captain, please! Someone brainwashed Sturm and he's trying to kill us!"

Scharf shrugged. "Looks like you already let him get you. Were you taken by surprise?"

"Yes!" shouted Max, equal parts panicked and annoyed, "We almost talked him out of the mind control, but he stabbed me at the last moment..."

The captain's brow furrowed. "Why the hell would you think you can talk someone out of mind control?"

Max's jaw dropped. "B-but, we just thought..."

"That's completely absurd," Scharf snapped, "The only way to stop mind control is to incapacitate the controller."

Though taken back, Emmy gathered the courage to interject into the conversation. "Excuse me sir, but even now Sturm is hesitating. Isn't that a sign that he's fighting against the controller?"

Scharf shot the girl his trademark one-eyed, antagonistic glare. "Rarely is a puppet aware of its puppeteer. If you think someone is under the psychic influence of another, you either kill them or kill the influencer. Those are your options."

"Are you out of your mind, captain?!" Max protested, "We're not killing Sturm!"

Catching a curiosity in Scharf's words, Emmy pressed him for clarification. "With all due respect, captain, it almost sounds like you're not convinced that Sturm is mind-controlled in the first place."

"Who knows?" Scharf answered callously. 

Max gritted his teeth in anger. "Are you kidding me? That's all you have to say? We've been praying for you to show up and help us!"

"How do you expect me to help?" Scharf inquired, "They made me turn in my guns last night, just like the candidates."

Defeated, Max shook his head and returned his focus to Sturm. "Alright, buddy... If you're not going to listen then I'll just have to knock your ass out until we can find the piece of shit who did this to you."

"Alas, I doubt your ability to accomplish such a feat, my friend," Sturm chuckled, "Though I might find entertainment in your attempt."