Page 29 of Academy of the Wicked: Year Three

The distinction might seem semantic, but it's crucial. Death is one thing. Absorption into primordial void is something else entirely. One ends existence. The other erases the very concept that you ever existed at all.

They all turn to look at Gabriel, who responds with a shrug that somehow manages to be both childish and ancient.

"My sister seems to like you lot of weak fools." His tone suggests he finds this preference inexplicable but undeniable. "If she hasn't forsaken you, it should mean she wishes to protect you, despite your uselessness."

"You're gonna be the annoying brother-in-law," Atticus says, finally achieving vertical stability, "who makes it difficult for anyone to go near your sister, huh?"

Gabriel doesn't dignify this with a response.

Instead, his attention shifts to Nikki with an intensity that makes her shift uncomfortably.

The silence stretches as he stares at her, those impossible eyes seeing something the rest of us miss. The scrutiny is so complete that color rises in Nikki's cheeks, the blush visible even in this realm of shadow.

"What?" she finally asks, unable to bear the weight of his gaze.

He continues staring for another heartbeat, then speaks with unexpected directness.

"On land, you'd have a better chance as male. In water, you can revert to your feminine nature."

The statement hangs in the air like a prophecy or prescription.

Nikki's confusion is evident.

"Why?"

But Gabriel has already dismissed her, turning away as if the conversation never happened. The dismissal is so complete it's almost impressive.

Nikki huffs in frustration, looking to the rest of us for explanation. We share a meaningful look—none of us fully understand, but all of us recognize the weight of his words.

"Listen to him, Nikki," I say carefully. "It's not to outcast your true nature. I believe having duality in these realms will come in handy until we can reach the academy gates."

She frowns, genuine nervousness replacing frustration. Her gaze drops to her hands, and I notice the tremor there—fine shaking that speaks of fear deeper than our current circumstances.

Gabriel has moved while we talked, positioning himself directly in front of where Nikki still kneels. She notices his proximity and shifts back to sit on her heels, creating what distance she can.

"I just... need a moment," she says, but the excuse rings hollow.

Gabriel continues staring at her shaking hands.

When he speaks, his voice carries something it hasn't before:gentleness.

"Why are you afraid?"

The soft tone draws all our attention. This is different from his dismissive comments and ancient irritation.

This is... care? Concern? Something that doesn't fit with what we've seen so far.

Nikki meets his gaze, and something passes between them that makes my chest tight. When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm an abomination... so... why would I return to my true form if it's but blasphemy to everyone around me?"

The words hit like darts against a board. The self-hatred in them, the acceptance of others' judgment as absolute truth—it speaks of trauma that runs soul-deep.

How many times has she been told this…or better yet, how many times has she believed it?

My heart drops, recognizing the kind of wounds that don't heal easily. Maybe don't heal at all, just scar over enough to function.

Gabriel doesn't speak immediately.