The lab had been cleared out not too long ago. Now it hummed with the sound of machines running silently in the background. The cold metal floors had gained a dull sheen from the low, pulsing light that spilt from the incubator. It was a soft pinkish glow that bathed the room in an otherworldly light, soft shimmering runes lining its metal casing.

  Gabriel could feel the strange magic in the air, but that wasn’t what held his attention. No, his mind was still fixated on the transparent board and the writing in black.

  "It can raise the dead."

  It sounded impossible. He wanted to ask how that was even POSSIBLE! But here he was alive in the body of a barely pubescent boy.

  He was alive!

  That very fact was proof that the machine worked. It made no sense, yet here he was... Alive. So he asked;

  "And that's a bad thing how?"

  Ansel opened his mouth to speak, likely ready to drop one of his usual detached, clinical responses. But before he could, Rivera raised her hand to halt him, signalling that she wished to speak.

  "There are laws in this world, Gabriel," she said, her voice steady but with an unusual tone, one Gabriel couldn’t quite place. "Laws that are absolute, that cannot be broken—not because they can’t be, but because breaking them is tantamount to damnation."

  Her words, spoken with an odd cadence, sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine. He could have imagined it but as she spoke there was this apologetic tone.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d heard about the fragility of life and death, but the weight of her tone made the words feel dreadful.

  "There is a fundamental wrongness in raising the dead," Ansel continued, his glasses gleaming a soft pink. "And with all things, nature and reality must find a way to restore balance... consequences.”

  Ansel said as he stared at the chalkboard. Gabriel was about to say something, but his mouth went dry, and he found himself staring at the words again, trying to wrap his mind around what they were saying.

  'Of course... consequence.' Gabriel thought, the bitter realization sinking in. He was dead. A part of him already knew that.

  Ever since he had awoken there's been this feeling—this strange sensation, this darkness that churned in his soul.

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  He felt it once after the Hero named Bulk had put a hole in his chest. Inevitably much a part of him as any of his limbs.

  "This consequence?" Gabriel was about to ask but Ansel beat him to it.

  "Is as varied as the stars, but the outcome is always death. More than there ever was. Or ever should've been"

  Gabriel’s chest tightened. For a second, and only for a second, he couldn’t breathe.

  Ansel began erasing a part of the board, cancelling out the words "Nill Vault," and Gabriel felt a growing sense of unease. There was more—so much more—that he didn’t understand.

  "Truthfully, we have very little issue with your father," Rivera interjected, her voice more resigned than before. She sighed deeply, rubbing her belly as though the conversation were weighing on her as much as her belly. "We just want to find the damned thing."

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. "Is it with him?"

  Rivera shook her head, looking exhausted. "We’re not sure. But if we have him, it could lead us to it."

  Ansel chimed in, his voice colder, "Having him in our custody won’t hurt either. He is a dangerous man."

  Gabriel’s eyes lingered on Ansel’s face, suddenly more aware of the growing gap between them. It was getting harder to convince himself that Ansel shared no semblance of likeness with the professor.

  His eyes were dull blue, like a void—unyielding and emotionless. The memory of his own father flashed in his mind as he glared at Ansel. So he got to raise another son? The thought sent a bitter pang through Gabriel’s chest.

  "Pearl would’ve been glad...Pearl?" Gabriel muttered under his breath.

  "Of course, Pearl," Gabriel repeated. "If there's one person who always knows where the professor is, it’s Pearl."

  "Pearl?" Ansel’s brow furrowed in thought. "My sister," he clarified.

  Rivera looked at Gabriel, and then back at Ansel before she sighed. "Listen, kid. We’ve tried all sorts of ways to track him down. But it's like he disappeared off the face of the earth. Even the diviners can’t find him."

  Gabriel frowned, feeling an unfamiliar surge of defiance well up inside him. "Nothing’s hidden from the face of the sun."

  Ansel’s lips split as he suddenly replied. "Don’t fool yourself."

  The words stung. Gabriel’s fist clenched, and for a moment, he considered lashing out. But before he could act on it, Rivera raised her voice, and a subtle pressure emanated from her, forcing both Gabriel and Ansel to settle down.

  "The truth of the matter," Rivera said, her tone calm but commanding, "is that Professor Allen is terribly good at hiding."

  Gabriel suddenly asked; "And torturing me is the only way to find him?"

  "No," Rivera replied quickly, standing and walking toward the incubator. "That’s what Cerba is for."

  Gabriel’s eyes followed her, and as she pointed at the device, his gaze narrowed. The soft pinkish light of the incubator caught his attention again. He had noticed it before but as he walked up to it behind Rivera, the shimmering runes etched into its surface seemed to hum with energy. He could feel the magic—it was...

  "Spell tech!?"

  "Mhm"

  Rivera nodded as she walked towards it Gabriel following behind her.

  "Ansel built and designed it for struggling heroes and their offspring."

  "Struggling heroes?" Gabriel muttered, eyes still on the incubator. "You don’t mean—"

  "Rust," Ansel finished, stepping forward, his voice as cold and detached as ever.

  "The thing that corrodes the very soul."

  Rivera added, what could be defined as a sad smile lining her lips.