Page 95 of Academy of the Wicked: Year Three

I lean against the door, needing its dubious stability while processing.

"Collapsed how?"

"Into this."

His mental gesture somehow encompasses the floating maze beyond my door.

"A labyrinth of memory and possibility. Every room that ever existed in the Academy now exists simultaneously, connected by paths that follow emotional rather than physical logic."

The explanation makes too much sense for something so impossible.

"And everyone else?"

"Scattered. Like you, we each woke in individual rooms. I've been able to establish mental contact with the others, but physical reunification has proven...challenging."

Challenging. Academic understatement for 'impossible without help.'

"What do we do?"

Another pause, this one weighted with hesitation that makes my stomach drop.

"I can manifest physically in your space. The distance between our rooms is simultaneously infinite and nothing—the paradox of dimensional collapse. But manifestation would require..."

The silence leaves me wondering of all the possibilities, but it seems when it comes to these trials, there’s one common dominator that shows up again and again.

"Bond initiation,"I finish, understanding immediately.

We're the only two of our group who aren't formally bonded. Everyone else carries my mark in some form—neck, chest, wrist. Zeke is our guide, which may also be deemed as some sort of connection, but Mortimer has remained separate, scholarly distance maintained despite growing closeness and obvious circumstances.

"I'm not worried about that,"I tell him, surprised to find it's true.

His hesitation grows rather than diminishes.

"It seems as though the bonds have been placed upon you, versus giving you the privilege of forming them yourself."

The observation stings because it's accurate.

Each bond formed through circumstance rather than pure choice—Cassius during our first trial, Atticus through blood exchange, Nikolai through magical accident. Would I have chosen them without external pressure? Probably. But the choice was never purely mine.

"True,"I acknowledge,"but if I were truly against it, I could have said no."

Even through extremity, even with survival at stake, I could have refused. The bonds might have formed through circumstance, but I chose to maintain them. To nurture them. To want them even when wanting became complicated.

"I know the circumstances I've entered with each one. But I don't regret any of them."

The truth of it surprises me. Despite the complications, the shared consciousness with Gabriel, the constant danger, I don't regret the connections we've forged.

"And truthfully, it would be odd to have you not involved in whatever this is."

Mortimer has been a constant guide when we're lost, knowledge when we're ignorant, and calm when everything else is chaos. The thought of not having him formally connected to the rest of us feels wrong.

"Though I've never dated someone centuries old, so I'm clearly inexperienced."

The attempt at levity falls flat even in my own mind. But I feel his amusement anyway, warm like hearthfire despite the mental distance.

"Very well. Prepare yourself."

The warning, which I can’t deny makes the pits of my stomach flip with unexpected need and flutters, is all I get before reality ripples in front of me.