Page 23

In a matter of seconds, The Sisters Three had torn apart everything in my inner core. They shattered the elegance of my ballroom. They shredded portraits holding recent memories with Milo, with the second chance we’d found, and the happiness we had. They smashed images of Charlie and Carlie. They burned every prideful teacher moment I had.

Then they ripped up the floorboards of my shame, my fears, my failures. I fell to my knees, unable to act as they ransacked my mind. Goddamn, they planned on taking every part of my being and breaking it.

“Don’t waste your time, sisters,” the light lilted voice said. “This one swims in his regrets every day.”

“Pathetic.” The raspy-voiced silhouette spat on the memories she’d planned on hurling at me.

Each form of The Sisters Three traipsed about independently while inside my head, their bodies like white marble statues, still merely silhouettes, though. Their faces held no features, and their bodies had curves and a femineity to their build, but they were like dolls. It wasn’t some way to leave things to the imagination. No, it was like even as they stomped through my head, invading my every thought, they didn’t believe me worthy to lay sight upon their true form, their image, their profound being.

“Heeeeey, sisters. Looky here,” the light lilted voice called out as she unraveled the visions Milo had organized. “It’s like a sad little imitation of our connection. Their frequencies are almost there.”

“But this one’s magic is far too weak to handle holding onto another being’s magic,” the raspy voice said, shaking her hips. “Weak, weak, weak.”

“He bores me,” the stern voice said, throwing the visions around my head, letting them stampede across my every thought.

These three sisters each possessed their own psychic magic yet seemed to use the other’s ability as their own. They really were like one entity, one supreme psychic being.

Screams outside my mind called out. Not to me, but to anyone. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the confines of my own inner core that’d been set aflame. Still, the foulest voice in the carnage rose high above everything else.

“You’re ruining my game,” Theodore snapped. “Evergreen is mine to defeat.”

Milo grunted, still lost inside the ocean that was slowly drowning him, but a sharp kick from Theodore made his body react. Theodore’s imagination painted a bloody version of Milo on the ground, the one he sought to bring into reality. But now, when he kicked the enchanter, he couldn’t relish in the whimpering gasp because Milo lay in a daze created by The True Witch. It sickened Theodore, annoyed him.

I ground my teeth, nearly drawn from the trap of my own mind. A palpable, furious desire to snatch Theodore by the throat and strangle him as he continued kicking Milo, waiting for the joy of his sadistic assault to fill his thoughts. But it didn’t. He kicked and punched Milo with passion yet didn’t take pleasure in breaking the unconscious enchanter. Each strike broke a piece of my hope.

Hope that Milo would wake. Hope that Enchanter Evergreen had a plan. Hope that The Inevitable Future would save the day.

“Next time, do not touch what doesn’t belong to you.” The True Witch’s staff beamed brightly as the auras of infinite magics and the souls of their fallen casters shimmered at the edge of my mind, carrying this radiance of pure, unfathomable power.

It reminded me of how the chimera collected branches, hoarding them like a dragon. Amara did the same, devilish in her own right, and she had dropped Milo into an ocean.

“I must clean up this mess now.” Her voice carried disgust for Theodore’s carnage, yet the bone staff’s magics flickered and extended the range and ferocity of Oceanic Collapse. “Because of you, I have to contend with this crowd. I’ll likely need to clear away the entire city since you chose to throw a tantrum.”

“No,” Theodore hissed. “You can’t do that.”

He held contempt for Amara’s threat. Not at the idea of her slaughtering the nearly three million people who called Chicago their home. No. It offended Theodore how she dared to take away his goal, his dream, his vision of a burning city. It was his destiny to destroy it. To stand in the rubble, to kick the ashes of corpses, to smile down at his dying father after besting him in his own home.

And with one slam of the staff, The True Witch cast a ripple across the entire campus. Water raged into the minds of everyone.

Gladiatrix and Enchanter Diaz rose to the top, fighting the currents the hardest before tidal waves swept them away.

Chanelle’s mind called out, a beacon of friendship, as she swam through the torrents of despair.

Every staff, student, and audience member’s mind crashed into each other, trapped so closely in this sea of sorrow, but utterly alone in the depths of water so powerful no mind could escape.

Even Theodore’s unconscious crew had their thoughts struck by the dark waters.

The True Witch’s branch offered mercy to none, preparing to wash away the lives of every person in Chicago after she finished off those who dwelled at Gemini Academy.

One by one, I found my students’ minds, wishing I could help them. Carter Howe. Jennifer Jung. Yaritza Vargas. Layla Smythe. Caleb…

I stopped looking for them. I’d already failed them. I couldn’t continue… I couldn’t bear watching my homeroom coven gasp and drown while trapped inside their own heads.

With Milo dying…

With everything falling apart…

With The Sisters Three tearing apart my mind…

I had nothing to offer the world, nothing but more failure. Unable to witness another second, I collapsed into the depths of my own subconscious, desperate to become lost in the abyss of darkness where maybe I’d forget everything, and all these deaths wouldn’t haunt me.

“This is where you choose to hide,” the light lilted voice asked, diving into my subconscious.

“He’s so tragic,” the raspy-voiced sister added.

Both carried a white radiance from their forms, illuminating the shadows of my hidden depths.

“Please.” I fought back tears. “Please just kill me.”

I wanted to die first. I knew this was the end, that this was the worst possible outcome to a future that even Milo hadn’t seen coming. There was no victory here. There was no breaking the hold of thousands trapped under the heavy weight of Oceanic Collapse. There was no resisting The Sisters Three who’d outmaneuvered me. But if I died first… I wouldn’t have to hear everyone else’s demise. I wouldn’t have to carry that sadness.

“But you should carry it,” the stern-voiced sister spat her words. “Perhaps we should carry you with us.”

What?

“Ooooh, his form is cute,” the light lilted voiced sister squealed.

“He looks like he requires a lot of upkeep,” the raspy-voiced sister turned up her nose at the idea of possessing me.

Wait. I heard her thoughts.

They’d spent so much time professing their superiority, easily overwhelming me and keeping their minds secured from my telepathy. Yet now… Now, the raspy sister’s thoughts rang loudly against my magic.

Her name was Lachesis, one of many names she held but a personal favorite she’d had over the course of history. She didn’t want to abandon her current host, having finally organized the mind exactly to her liking, and she found my head disgraceful for a supposed psychic. But she knew her sister, Atropos, had a familiar glint in her gaze, a vengeful stare. Guess that was why her voice always sounded stern and aggressive. Atropos considered any slight an absolute offense and would demand recompense.

I’d offended her?

Because I had the audacity to ask for a merciful death, she’d keep me locked inside my head for the next century just to spite me.

She’d possess me until I was old and broken and could no longer contain the glory of The Sisters Three. That was their secret to longevity over the centuries. They always jumped into a new body, a vessel, a new host for their magnificence. But when magic had vanished, when it’d been expelled from this world the sisters slept in silence, waiting for the return of power. Waiting for the Celestial Coven to truly reign.

“Sister, guard yourself better,” the light-lilted voiced one said. No, Clotho said. That was her name. Despite becoming aware of how I sifted through Lachesis’ mind, she lacked the ability to hide her own thoughts either. “I don’t lack anything!”

She pouted, her face forming on the blank head of her silhouette. That made her turn away, shameful and feeling suddenly small for a goddess. They hid their form from those they invaded because the glorious beauty of a divine being was far too spectacular for weak mortal eyes. The way I looked at her face, capturing every detail of her stunned expression, sent a whirl of doubt through Clotho’s head.

“You really do believe you’re gods.” I scoffed. “The arrogance. Literal hubris.”

“We are gods. We are divinity incarnate. We are prophecy. We are infinite,” Atropos shouted, her booming voice rippled through the abyss of darkness. “You hide down here because you’re too weak to face us. You hide down here because you’re pathetic and alone.”

“He’s not alone,” my angry-voiced persona bellowed from the shadows as his rage towered.

“Personas,” Lachesis hissed. “Pathetic. They hold no power except to hide in darkness.”

“Then let us remove the shadows.” Atropos waved a hand.

“Yes. Let’s show him how it feels to look upon someone else without permission.” Clotho uncovered her face, shining brightly beside her sisters as the three unleashed white light across the furthest reaches of my abyss.

Thousands of personas stood as a legion throughout my subconscious. Each was some variation of my emotions, my fantasies, my musings. While their eyes didn’t normally glow, each one radiated with a defensive purple hue. They craved the darkness, the quiet, and The Sisters Three had dared to disrupt the routine.

The magic of my personas pulled at the shadows that had vanished, seeking to push away the light and replace it with the abyss.

Magic. My magic.

“Give me my magic,” I whispered.

“Personas don’t have magic, you fool,” Clotho said. “They’re simply projections of identity.”

“This one doesn’t understand even the simplest things,” Lachesis said. “Hardly a psychic of any merit. I highly recommend we don’t waste time possessing such a brittle body.”

“You don’t know me.” I stood, shuddering every time a tiny pulse of purple light struck me, infusing me with more of my magic.

“How are you…” Atropos quieted, studying the personas who wilted like flowers past their prime. Those who’d returned my magic went to sleep. “They cannot all possess magic. How did you do that?”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m self-sabotaging. I’ve always had too much power, so I broke off a lot of it and dropped it down here.”

“You can’t do that,” Clotho whined.

“Not possible,” Lachesis hissed.

“Maybe for you.” I waved my arms, washing the abyss in a sea of purple light before returning to the shadows.

The strength of my magic, the full extent of my branch, was incredible. The first thing I did was restore my mind, my memories, my inner core above. The Sisters Three had trashed everything, but it didn’t take long to sort. In fact, even the visions gained from Milo were easy to condense, to bind down so they didn’t float wildly in my head. A few months ago, I couldn’t manage to suppress a few visions and now I handled thousands with grace.

Once I salvaged the mess in my head, I linked to The Sisters Three, grabbing ahold of their thoughts, their minds, their long lifetime of memories. They were so pliable, insignificant when locked in my grasp. In my mind, I ruled with unmatched supremacy. Squeezing the sisters tightly, I snapped the tether that connected each of them to the body of the woman they’d possessed for more than a decade now.

I searched through the memories behind this woman’s crime, the offense she’d struck onto The Sisters Three. A giggle floated in Atropos’ thoughts, carrying with it the voice of the woman who’d wronged them. Debra Anderson had laughed during a palm reading The Sisters Three offered, jokingly adding how she found psychic readings a bit silly since no one could truly control the future. That one comment, one explanation, one chuckle at destiny offended Atropos enough to break Debra’s mind and keep her trapped inside the deepest cellar of her inner core.

They’d done this to countless others, dating back so far that I struggled to hold all the memories. But I wanted them. I wanted to grab every single memory The Sisters Three held. With them, I’d unravel a way to break the four pillars of the Celestial Coven.

The Sisters Three held no individuality. Not really. Their memories were entangled. They’d fused their minds and magics so long ago, even they didn’t recall the days before they weren’t one deity. As such divine witches, they sought greatness and joined the Celestial Coven, becoming the Southern Pillar of the Four Corners thanks to their tremendously potent psychic branch.

Three branches, really, that became forever entwined due to their fusion: retrocognition, telepathy, and clairvoyance. But I had an expertise in those three magics, twisting and turning their power back onto them the same way they’d done to Milo, done to me. I’d shatter their being for daring to touch Milo, but I needed answers first. All the answers.

I demanded them.

To become a pillar of the most powerful organization, a witch required immortality, exceptional skill, and an understanding for shaping reality.

Enchanter Wadsworth likely continued fighting against Lazarus and Grim at the MDC. The Sisters Three held intel on those two pillars, the magic they each possessed, the monikers they held, the legends their existence had sparked.

Lazarus had lived life almost as long as the sisters, possessing the ultimate rejuvenation magic of resurrection. He could die, but he always healed, always returned, always worked as the Eastern Pillar of the Four Corners. Even if he seemed to prefer a solitary existence outside of the coven.

Grim possessed the foulest augmentation branch according to the sisters, who considered him a beast, perverse and unsettling. His magic allowed him to grow and control his bones in unique ways. By seeping his being—magic and mind—into his bones it allowed Grim a version of immortality. So long as he performed rituals, old magics that the Celestial Coven prided themselves upon, then Grim found himself eternal.

He was the youngest of the four, but he’d also walked this earth for more centuries than they could count, and he ruled beside them as the Western Pillar of the Four Corners.

The final member, the leader of the Celestial Coven, was Amara. The True Witch. The founder. The Northern Pillar of the Four Corners. She led their coven through this world, shaping it, preparing it, protecting The Sisters Three and other witches when the magic of the world disappeared.

The True Witch worked to bring back magic, worked to bring back the world she loved, worked to bring back her godhood.

“How does she extend her life? Who is she really?” I looked down on The Sisters Three, each white silhouette crumbled on the ground, reaching out to one another, but incapable of moving under the weight of my psychic energy.

I hadn’t realized how heavily I’d hit them, how much force boomed off my being.

“Tell me,” I roared, carrying a demand that ripped open each of the sister’s minds.

They shrieked and cried and presented every memory of their being, incapable of resisting my will and helping me scour for memories that held intel on The True Witch. But they didn’t have the answers I looked for. They didn’t know how Amara extended her life. They didn’t know how to remove her oceans from everyone’s minds.

“I see you do know a lot of other things, though.” I stared at the seemingly infinite number of memories on display, holding a trove of knowledge. “I’ll sort through this later.”

“You speak as if you could grasp our glory, our—”

“Quiet.” I thought past The Sisters Three, ignoring their feeble attempt to challenge my magic, my psychic power that overwhelmed their minds, and I searched outside this room. Everyone was still alive, still holding on despite the power of Oceanic Collapse.

It’d merely been a few seconds since The Sisters Three had delved into my mind and attempted to torture me.

I needed to be rid of The Sisters Three and then contend with The True Witch. With all my magic fully restored, it might be enough to shatter the oceans from some minds. No. It’d be enough to free everyone. I’d see to it.

“But first, I need to remove you.” I stared down at the sisters. “I can’t keep you in my head. Well, I could, but I don’t want to. You’ve been here less than a minute and proved to be quite the fucking headache. However, I can’t simply let you leave. You’d jump back into poor Debra or some other unsuspecting soul. No. Neither is much of an option. I’ll have to end you here and now. Strip away your psychic energy until it’s completely depleted.”

“You can’t do that. You’d be killing us.” Clotho had this confusion in her voice. “We don’t die. We are forever.”

“You’ve had a long life, longer than most.” I shrugged. “Mainly by taking from others, might I add. Taking their body, their will, their future.”

“It was ours to have,” Lachesis said, truly perplexed I’d question the justification of a god.

“Sisters, join me.” Atropos reached out her hands, hoping to harness their magic and escape.

I chuckled.

The idea of fighting me actually frightened them. Three witches who declared themselves goddesses fused as one being, a deity of the psychic branch, was afraid of little ole me.

I turned my gaze onto them. “And you should be. You should be very afraid.”

Atropos grabbed her sisters’ hands, attempting to merge into their solitary form, but with a wave of my hand, they flew to opposite sides of my subconscious.

“You think I’d allow you to escape? Let you live? After you wormed your way inside my boyfriend’s head. After you attacked the love of my life. After you harmed the best person I’ve ever known.” I snapped my fingers, shattering Clotho into nothingness; her light lilt carried a sad, sour note as she faded away. With a flick of my wrist, Lachesis joined her sister in the ether of nothingness. “Maybe there’s an afterlife. If so, I hope Hell is kind to you three because I sure as fuck won’t be.”

“You can’t do this. We foresaw…” Atropos widened her eyes, her face fully forming as her memories and magic fizzled to nothing. She couldn’t see anything, no futures, no pasts, no thoughts outside the few dwindling ones in her head. “Why?”

“Because you had the audacity to fuck with me. To threaten my future, the happiest ever after that Milo has worked so hard to create.” My words carried an echo of authority, a furious snarl.

It shoved Atropos out of my head and to death’s door which had long awaited her knock.

Now that I’d ended the Southern Pillar of the Four Corners, I stepped out of my subconscious and returned to the auxiliary gym, where I planned on saving everyone’s life by ending The True Witch and Theodore Whitlock.