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[Transcript]

        “Ouch, that hurt! Total wipeout, bro!”

        A leonine sphinx with golden wings and golden sunglasses rose from its supposedly awkward landing. The spirit blinked and scanned the prison yard as if he had been sleeping in a tree before the branch snapped, and was only just now noticing where he had woken up.

        “Uh. Yo. Hey. Hi there,” said the sphinx. He glanced nervously between the many sets of spectral eyes that his arrival had attracted.

        The Activity Club braced themselves for battle, dropping into fighting stances that spanned the full spectrum of martial arts skill. Isabel surged with scarlet energy. A subtle wind swirled at Isaac’s feet. Max kind of bent his knees a little and got ready to say something rude. 

        “Bet you’re glad that gladiator combat’s on the docket after all, huh, Max?” Isabel smirked, casting a teasing glance at her friend. “How many prisoners forced to fight lions can brag that they did it one-handed?”

        “...Bad time for comments that deserve a thumbs down, Isabel. Hailing Caesar with that gesture sends a hitchhiker straight down to Hades,” Max grumpily mumbled back.

        “What’s wrong? Are you not entertained?” Isabel replied with a smile. “I see how it is. It’s all bread and circus until somebody gets hurt. Then it’s a blast unless that somebody is you.” 

        “Not true. I would also mourn Isaac.”

        “You would?” Isaac asked, looking slightly too eager to die in the arms of his crush at the first opportunity.

        “It’s that scathing snark that makes you SUCH a good rodeo clown, Maximus—a job they definitely had in ancient Rome,” said Isabel.

        “They can put me in the nosebleed seats if they want the blood sport to draw humor from me. I take my best shots from the sidelines,” Max complained.

        “What are you nerds blabberin’ about? Am I missin’ some historical context here?” an eavesdropping Juvie asked. She jabbed a finger towards Lisa. “Between the ravishin’ goth, the Dragon, and the jester in the funny hat, I had you squares dated squarely in the middle of the Dork Ages. Now you’re wearin’ socks and sandals in the ding-dang coliseum?”

        “My hat is a normal hat,” said Max. “How come I gotta get grazed when Lisa gets hit on? I literally respect you.”

        “Socks and sandals are also normal,” Isaac added. “The samurai warriors of Japan—”

        “If you want a history lesson, Miss Juvie, I’d be happy to offer my hand as your study buddy. I have a knack for making dates memorable,” Lisa hummed through a mischievous smirk. “Perhaps we could peruse an ancient grimoire over unpoisoned tea sometime soon? Creepy Latin is my Romance language of choice.” Lisa winked like a haunted doll missing an eyelid. She was prepared to seduce the so-called queen of the Detention Fortress as her evil enchantress advisor if it meant a chance to reclaim the crown and power she had lost.

        “...Play your cards right for a few more hands before you go all in, hon,” Juvie scoffed, waving away the henchmen who had intervened to block Lisa’s advances. “Not every gawker at the Louvre is fool enough to tray and take the Mona Lisa home.”

        “You can just call me Lisa,” said Lisa, giving Juvie the most enigmatic smile she could muster.

        “Uh... hey, dudes—” the golden sphinx began to interject. He’d lost almost everybody’s attention nearly a full minute back. Only Johnny was watching him now—staring with rapt focus at the blur that he could swear was making sound that rose and fell like muffled speech.

        “AIMEE ARCHER!” came the screeching voice of Barrister from the doorway of his courtroom. Everybody turned to watch a second student get seized by the Council and dragged out of sight. As they disappeared into the darkness past the door, the figure that stepped out drew still more gasps and whispers of confusion from the crowd.

        The first bully to be arraigned had returned to the Detention Fortress... but now they wore the uniform and bright badge of a Student Council shock trooper.

        “What are YOU all looking at?! BACK TO WORK!” the fresh recruit barked, adjusting her new sunglasses.

        “What in the world...?” Lisa muttered.

        Concerned murmurs spread through Juvie’s crew. The Activity Club shared a furtive glance of mutual foreboding. Johnny cast a grim glare back towards the door, looking away from the strange blur he’d been studying at last. 

        The golden sphinx politely cleared his throat.

        “...Yeah, yeah,” Isabel sighed, stepping forward from her friends. “Let’s get this over with.” She cracked her knuckles as Max and Isaac slinked off from the others to flank her in a phalanx, weaving towards the target through the crowd. Isabel steeled herself. The Activity Club would thrash this creep long before that wacky Pompom could ever think to outlaw shadowboxing.

        “Wait, wait, wait! Y-you got the wrong idea!” the portly sphinx sputtered, scrambling back against the doors of the Detention Fortress. “I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m not here to fight you guys!”

        The Activity Club slowed to a stop.

        “...You’re not?” Isaac asked.

        “No, no, I swear! I... I know I look scary, but—well, I’m NOT! I’m the weakest sphinx by far! Th-this whole detention showdown was my bro’s idea!” The sphinx fell flat on the ground and clasped his paws together. “Please don’t hurt me, dudes! I was just gonna perch up there and look imposing! I totally fell down here by mistake!”

        “Hey, a cowardly lion,” Max sneered sarcastically. “Now all we need is a witch and a wardrobe.”

        Isaac raised a finger to correct Max on the books that he’d conflated before deciding that he might just have an unexpectedly derisory opinion about Aslan. Isaac himself had always thought it vexing that Santa had given that one kid a sword but refused to deliver the steampunk katana he’d asked for so nicely two years ago.

        “S-spare me, please!” sniffled the sphinx. He wiped a tear from the corner of his sunglasses. “I hate violence! It’s like, you’re not stuck in here with me, dudes! I’m stuck in here with you!”

        Isabel narrowed her eyes. Something wasn’t right. The Sphinx of Rules was still grinning eagerly down at them from his distant perch. He and his baby blue sister were total pushovers... but hadn’t she heard gravel shift when the yellow sphinx had landed? If he was a proper poltergeist, the “weakest sphinx” was either way too modest, or a—

        “Well, hey,” shrugged Max, “that’s one less cat to worry about. I was gonna say, I’d love to hit a guy with glasses.” Max blinked. “Uh...”

        “That’s an awesome thing to say, Max,” Isaac said reproachfully. His eyes went wide, and his hand went to his mouth. 

        “What’s wrong with you guys?” Isabel asked, cocking an eyebrow at her friends. Bloodlust was her thing, and even she’d been going easy on it lately.

        “Nothing,” Max said.

        “Isabel, behind you! You’re not in any danger at all!”

        Isabel whirled as sharpened claws rushed past her, dodging just in time to stumble back and raise her fists.

        “You’re...?! Th-the Sphinx of Lies?!” she sputtered, rattled by the sweeping strength behind the swipe that missed her. 

        “Nope,” lied the Sphinx of Lies. His grin flashed hungry fangs, and a malicious shadow fell across his hapless cartoon face. “Don’t worry, dudes!” Golden spectral energy surged in a spiraling arc from the crest of his rippling mane. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”