Page 78 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

“What’s happening?” Vincent’s eyes widened when the portal opened back up.

“Impossible,” Ernesto creaked. “I sealed it. How’d she do that?”

“You think someone of my caliber can’t punch a hole through the cosmic plane? Oh, honey.” Gladiatrix made quick work of Vincent and Ernesto before either had an inkling of how to contend with the strongest woman in the world.

Once again, I found myself awed by Gladiatrix’s capabilities, even attempting to latch onto her steady and confident mind during this tumultuous attack on Gemini Academy. Her surface thoughts beamed brightly, revealing the missing minutes since I’d last seen her and the other members of the Global Guild.

The Chicago enchanters worked to contain the situation at the MDC. They restrained inmates and offered aid to the injured. Far more injured than expected.

A man leapt between Gladiatrix and Grim. He wore a bloody, ripped shirt. There was something familiar in his set-in scowl. Grim aimed his sickle for the exposed hole of the man’s shirt, shattering the blade when it met the finely tuned telekinesis buzzing over the skin.

“Even if you could land a strike with your feeble magics,” the man spoke in this gruff annoyance while tearing off his tattered shirt. “You can’t harm me in this state.”

His literal ten-pack abdomen flexed, every muscle of his body tightened, and with a quick jab, he knocked Grim’s head off his shoulders.

“It’ll take more than that.” Gladiatrix sighed at the laughing skull. “Unfortunately.”

“I know how to handle so-called immortals,” the man spat before breaking the bones of Grim’s body in such quick succession that even Gladiatrix strained to follow the blurred movements.

“About time you came to play, old man.”

Old man? Wait. This was Enchanter Wadsworth. This guy who appeared in his absolute fucking prime with muscles I didn’t even realize were physically possible to achieve was Wadsworth. Wow. The impatient, elderly enchanter who lay dying underground with a huge hole in his chest had used his rejuvenation, his healing, to literally turn back the clock on his cells, restoring his vitality on a level I couldn’t fathom. No wonder he still ranked among the top ten Global Guild witches while in his seventies.

“Grab the psychic and bear boy witches,” Wadsworth said. “I’ll deal with this bone brat and the other pillar. I need you to find The True Witch.”

Gladiatrix listened to the battles outside, the fight between Enchanter Diaz and The Sisters Three had ended when the psychic pillar fled after reinforcements showed. She heard Milo’s battle against Lazarus. She extended her senses beyond the MDC, stretching them over every chaotic noise throughout the city, and honed in on the ensuing assault on the academy.

“I have an idea of where the witch is,” Gladiatrix said before parting ways with Enchanter Wadsworth.

She zipped through the MDC, snatching Enchanter Evergreen in her grasp. Turning on her heels, she raced in the opposite direction and found Enchanter Diaz with his familiar Priscilla, grabbing them with a telekinetic hold. Bracing them with her magic, Gladiatrix bolted across the city, landing at Gemini Academy in a flash.

Having arrived at the campus, it didn’t take long for the three Global Guild witches to assess the situation and neutralize dangers where Diaz hacked apart demons and Milo beat down Theodore.

I blinked away the memory and watched Gladiatrix bolt from Tara’s side, having defeated the three warlocks that surrounded my student. She moved from place to place, leveling the playing field and eliminating threats in seconds.

Enchanter Diaz soared between students, hacking down fiends with his sword that banished them on contact, using his glowing glyphs in a deliberate pattern to lure demons away.

While her human worked, Priscilla snatched up everyone in her path, holding damn near a hundred people in her telekinetic grip as she trotted across the auxiliary gym to carry them to a safe location.

Everything was working out. Not like planned, but I slowly composed myself. The erratic emotions were becoming more manageable, especially with Milo nearby serving as a lifejacket amidst this carnage.

Milo had grabbed ahold of Theodore’s arm, bending it behind his back to the breaking point. He twisted until Theodore dropped to his knees, gritting his teeth and stifling a wince.

“Of all the places, of all the choices you could’ve made.” Milo tightened his grip, lacing telekinesis down Theodore’s arm. “You picked this?”

“Go big or go home, they say.” Theodore chuckled, pretending the pain didn’t burn across his skin. “I don’t have a home, so pretty easy choice.”

“Now, you’ll have nothing. No choices.” Milo contemplated wrapping his telekinesis around Theodore’s throat, choking the life out of him, or snapping his neck. “No futures.”

If he killed the warlock, he’d ensure nothing like this ever came to pass again, ever held a possibility in the future Milo sought to paint. Another part of him remembered the plan—despite all the horrible hiccups that’d occurred—where Theodore Whitlock would be taken into custody by the Global Guild, dropped into a hole so deep and dark the world would never sense his presence again. Milo knew this because of the warlock’s connection to the Celestial Coven and Enchanter Wadsworth’s tenacious need to eradicate anyone affiliated with The True Witch.

I wanted to tell Milo to stop. I wanted to keep that spark of joy lit in his heart forever. I wanted to take the burden and kill Theodore myself. But I froze. I hesitated. The Sisters Three materialized out of nowhere behind Milo, and I didn’t know what to do.

“The Inevitable Future, I presume.” The Sisters Three slinked through purple smoke. “Pale, cheap imitation, sisters,” the raspy voice declared. “Difficult all the same,” the light-lilt voice added. “We see you weaving your silly little possibilities, desperately clawing at the happiest ever after,” the stern voice held utter contempt for the words. “But we have come to only grant zero happily ever afters.”

They grabbed Milo by the temples, bombarding his mind with every past regret as they ripped up the floorboards of his inner core. Next, they set their sights on the many vaults where Milo stored visions and sorted futures. I stumbled forward, struggling against the trepidation that struck the tether wheremy thoughts and Milo’s remained linked. The continuous fear and raging emotions of so many people in the auxiliary gym didn’t help.

The Sisters Three attacked the hundreds, the thousands, of staticky screens set up in the Fateful Viewing of Infinite Possibilities, where Milo observed visions. God, how he loved that silly little name, the one that reverberated through his broken thoughts as The Sisters Three smashed each screen, scattering glass and leaving shards at Milo’s feet.

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