Natasha pressed her lips together and felt a pang of frustration. She couldn’t communicate with Wednesday or the others, nor could she predict how they would act without information.
‘Unless…’ she thought, an idea forming in her mind.
An unorthodox and cruel idea. But an effective one that could ensure Gabriel’s death.
The telepathic link was broken. That meant Wednesday must have noticed, and, more importantly, she must have assumed the worst.
Luke was the one maintaining that connection. If the link was severed, it could only mean that something serious had happened to him.
Wednesday had to be wondering what had occurred. Enid, though she no longer shared a telepathic bond with Luke, was still in love with him, it was obvious to Natasha.
So, if when they arrived, chasing after Gabriel, she could confirm their worst fears… If she managed to scream at them that Luke was dead…
The two girls would feel sadness. But above all, they would feel fury. And the only person they could unleash their rage upon would be Gabriel.
Natasha knew it because she had experienced it herself. When Elliot had impaled Luke right before her eyes, she had felt such a crushing sorrow that she could barely breathe. But above all, she had felt a visceral, savage fury.
She reacted that way, then Wednesday and Enid would go insane. And in that state, driven by rage, they would push their abilities to the limit.
‘There might be a real chance to kill him,’ Natasha thought. It was five against one, and among those five, two girls would be fueled by hatred and sheer fury.
…
Wednesday was running at full speed, ignoring her injuries.
Blood trickled down her forehead, seeping onto the collar of her shirt. Her side burned from a deep cut Gabriel had inflicted with a razor-sharp gust of wind. Her left arm trembled, numb from the blows.
The fight had been brutal. At first, it had been a two-on-one battle, Enid and her against Gabriel. And although the Spellman was individually stronger, they had managed to contain him and even gain the upper hand at times.
But when reinforcements arrived, everything changed in their favor.
Lurch, her family’s butler, had shown up with incredible strength. Along with him came her two cousins, Nick and Simon, elemental psychics.
Although she had expected a stronger member of her family to arrive, her father, mother, or uncle, the tide of battle began to shift in their favor.
With a numerical advantage of five against one, victory seemed certain.
But then, Wednesday felt something strange.
The telepathic link with Luke was broken. That could only mean one thing.
She forced herself to suppress the thought. She wasn’t going to assume the worst.
Luke could have broken the link for multiple reasons. Maybe he deactivated it to conserve energy. Maybe he was focused on something else. Maybe he was in the middle of a fight and couldn’t maintain the connection.
Yes. That had to be it. Nothing bad had happened.
But then, Gabriel stopped fighting. He simply propelled himself into the sky with his element and flew toward the city.
That baffled everyone.
Gabriel was heading to the city for a reason unknown to Wednesday and the others. But they couldn’t let him go there and support his brother, who, at least as far as they thought, was fighting Luke. So, they started chasing after him.
As they ran after Gabriel, Enid noticed something strange. Wednesday wasn’t saying anything, but her expression was off.
Throughout the entire fight, she had maintained a cold, calculating look. But now… her jaw was clenched, her gaze was dark, and her breathing was uneven.
She looked worried or even sad, something extremely rare for her.
A chill ran down Enid’s spine. There was only one person who could affect Wednesday like this.
Luke.
‘What had happened?’
Gabriel was getting farther and farther away. He could fly with his wind element, while they could only pursue him on foot. They were losing ground.
But finally, they reached the city.
The scene before them was devastating.
Destroyed buildings. Cracked streets. Overturned cars. The stench of blood thick in the air.
They ventured deeper into the city until Wednesday suddenly stopped and looked up at where Gabriel had come to a halt.
And then they all saw it.
A motionless figure in the middle of the street, surrounded by destruction.
Nick’s eyes widened in shock. “Is that the Spellman patriarch?” he asked, stunned.
One of the strongest psychics, dead. Headless, armless, with a gaping hole in his torso.
Though Nick had always joked around with his brother, this was serious.
The war had begun.
And as much as it thrilled him, this was no time for jokes.
Gabriel descended rapidly and walked toward his older brother, his mind refusing to accept what he was seeing.
“No…” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
“How?” he asked as his breathing quickened.
His brother was dead: Elliot Spellman, patriarch of one of the most powerful psychic families.
Who had the power to kill him?
Luke Poe?
The idea was absurd.
Gabriel knew Luke was strong. No one could deny his combat record. But he was still just a 16-year-old teenager, the same age as his daughters.
Despite his talent, his three auras, and his rapid growth in battle, it shouldn’t have been enough.
And if he did it… what kind of monstrous genius was he?
The silence was suffocating. Even the others, Wednesday, Enid, his cousins, and Lurch, seemed to be in shock, momentarily forgetting they were chasing Gabriel.
And then, from the shadows, Natasha struck.
Her body turned to metal, her arm morphing into a sharp blade.
Gabriel barely had time to react, still in shock and not expecting a sudden surprise attack. He dodged just enough to avoid a fatal wound, but a sharp pain flared as the blade sliced through his side, cutting near his obliques.
“Tsk!” he grunted, staggering back as blood seeped from the wound. His gaze snapped to Natasha, startled.
Before he could react, Natasha shouted, “What are you waiting for?! Attack, damn it!”
Her voice rang with desperation as she locked eyes with Wednesday and Enid.
“Luke is dead!” Natasha roared. “KILL HIM!”
If Luke were conscious, he wouldn’t be able to resist applauding Natasha’s incredible performance.
Wednesday’s thoughts froze for a moment. Natasha’s words shattered the last barrier of denial in her mind. Her worst fear had become reality.
Gabriel blinked at Natasha’s declaration. There was only one explanation.
His brother and Luke Poe had killed each other.
Gabriel clenched his teeth. There was no point in staying here.
He had to leave.
His priority now was to retrieve Elliot’s body and get out of this damned place before things got any worse.
But just as he was about to move, two people were already upon him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Gabriel barely had time to turn before Wednesday was on him.
There was no strategy. No calculated coldness in her eyes. Only rage.
From the other side, Enid lunged at him in her lycan form, her eyes glowing with pure killing intent, an animalistic fury Gabriel hadn’t felt from her in the entire previous battle.
Wednesday and Enid, both ignoring their wounds, charged at him with such intense wrath that even Natasha was taken aback. Their reactions far exceeded what she had initially imagined.
Wednesday was the first to strike.
Her scythe of darkness had already formed, its edge wrapped in a blackness that seemed to consume the light around it. Gabriel quickly raised his hand, conjuring a razor-sharp wind blast to stop her.
But Wednesday didn’t stop.
She shifted just an inch, just enough to avoid a fatal wound, but not enough to dodge completely. A deep gash tore open her side, blood spilling freely, yet she didn’t even flinch.
And then, her scythe came down.
‘Shit! Crazy bitch!’ Gabriel thought, realizing he couldn’t dodge in time.
The black blade sank into Gabriel’s chest, piercing skin, muscle, and organs with terrifying ease. His blood sprayed into the air, just as Enid arrived.
In her werewolf form, she crashed into him with unstoppable speed. Her jaws clamped down on his neck, ripping through flesh and arteries in a brutal bite.
Gabriel tried to react, his body igniting in flames to drive these lunatics away, but Wednesday didn’t give him the chance.
She let go of her scythe, leaving it embedded in his body, and with chilling precision, drove her fingers into his face.
Her nails pierced his eyeballs, digging deep.
“AHHH!” Gabriel screamed in agony, but Wednesday didn’t stop.
Her fingers plunged deeper, fueled by an indescribable fury, until they reached his brain. Gabriel tried to scream again, but his voice drowned in a gurgle of blood.
Then, Wednesday unleashed her darkness.
It spread from inside Gabriel’s skull, obliterating his brain.
Gabriel’s body convulsed in one final, violent spasm.
Wednesday pulled her fingers from his face, now dripping with dark blood and remnants of brain matter. Slowly, she lowered her hand, her face completely emotionless, but her eyes burned with inhuman hatred.
Enid, still in her werewolf form, hadn’t let go. Her fangs remained clamped around Gabriel’s neck.
With a low, guttural growl, she delivered one final, brutal bite.
Skin and flesh tore apart with a wet snap. Enid ripped out a large chunk of his neck, feeling the warmth of his blood on her tongue before spitting the remains onto the ground with disdain.
Nick and Simon watched the scene with respect, and, though they wouldn’t admit it, a certain fear toward their cousin and even the lycanthrope girl.
Wednesday, her pale hands covered in blood and small bits of what seemed to be Gabriel’s brain, felt an emptiness settle in now that there was no one left to unleash her fury upon.
Slowly, she turned to Natasha, her face still impassive, but her voice carrying a tension she had never shown before.
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Where was Luke’s corpse?
Enid also turned to Natasha, her eyes filled with tears, waiting for an answer. As painful as it would be to see Luke’s body, she had to see it with her own eyes.
Natasha looked at Wednesday with an uncomfortable expression.
“Actually… Luke didn’t die,” she replied.
Before she could explain further, Wednesday moved swiftly, summoning another scythe of darkness. It materialized beside her with a chilling hiss, freezing in the air, aimed directly at Natasha.
“What do you mean by that?” Wednesday asked, her voice utterly devoid of patience.
“Luke is unconscious. I hid him… After killing Elliot, let’s just say he suffered another PLPE, and he told me we needed to protect Elliot’s body because it’s crucial evidence to incriminate the Spellmans,” Natasha answered, unfazed by the scythe pointed at her throat.
Wednesday stared at Natasha. The pain, the emptiness, and the rage she had felt just moments before began to fade.
Luke is still alive. She repeated it in her mind.
“Where is he? Take me to him,” Wednesday demanded, still pointing her scythe at Natasha.
‘I’m not an enemy…’ Natasha thought, observing the strange state Wednesday was in. She didn’t blame her, after all, she had reacted the same way when she thought she had seen Luke die.
Enid, still in her werewolf form, had tears in her eyes, but her body was no longer as tense as before.
“Follow me. He’s close,” Natasha said, turning around. But before she moved, she glanced at Wednesday’s cousins and Lurch.
“You. Protect Elliot and Gabriel’s bodies at all costs,” she ordered. The cousins nodded seriously, while Lurch simply let out a huff.
After that Natasha guided Wednesday and Enid to the place where she hid Luke and now he is resting.
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