Chapter 412: _Nightmare Or Prophecy?

One Week Later, Toronto, Canada

The Hale-Ferguson house had been awfully quiet for some days now.

After Gabriel’s father died, the space god chose solitude and headed to his private residence back in Canada. His mother, brother and even Ambrose and Valentine struggled to get even a few minutes of communication with him.

Valentine especially knew how broken his old friend was.

Sure, his father had been a monumental asshole, and his suggestion for dealing with him at one point always involved dropping him in the Mariana trench.

But that was before he was hospitalized. Before his son began visiting him at his most vulnerable moment.

From the updates Gabriel gave him, his relationship with the old man had been improving. He even called Ambrose Gabriel’s boyfriend without making a confused face.

During Tristan’s wedding, the old man had awkwardly asked whether Gabriel was ever going to make Ambrose his "bride." It had been clumsy. Uncomfortable. But it was also the closest he’d ever come to acknowledging Gabriel’s relationship without disgust.

Now he was... gone.

The Necromancer reminisced about all this as he stepped out of the car Ambrose had gotten for them upon their arrival at the Great White North.

Ambrose, Viktor and Devon also hopped out, the SS-Rank holding Orion in his arms.

All of them were dressed in black, facing the same cathedral they’d attended for Tristan’s wedding. Now they were here again for the wake of the young man’s father.

"Anyone heard from Gabriel yet?" Viktor sighed, slipping one hand into his pocket as they walked.

A solemn crowd of church members, Hunters, friends and family members from far and wide slowly trailed into the building, either pulling close to each other for comfort, sobbing quietly or whispering about how God knew best.

Valentine watched under his sunglasses with a plain demeanour.

Death had a funny way of uniting people.

"He should be inside," Ambrose answered, simultaneously patting Orion’s back to keep him asleep. "Damn. There are way more Hunters here than when it was Tristan’s wedding."

A soft, melancholic melody played from the church’s organ, the choir joining with a chorus that sounded angelic.

Once they got inside, Valentine immediately swept his gaze through the packed church.

Sure enough, he spotted Gabriel at the front seats. He nodded to something an old uncle of his was whispering to him as they moved to their seats.

"I’m off." Valentine pulled away from the group, shooting Ambrose a glance. "Any word from Loki?"

"You know them. Always late. They did say the Pantheon will be on their way too."

Valentine regarded his words with a small nod, continuing to the altar.

"Gabriel." He grabbed the SS-Rank’s arm just as he was about to sit.

The latter froze.

His head and back faced him for a few seconds before he tilted enough for Valentine to see his swollen eyes and the wetness tinting his features.

Without a word, Valentine pulled Gabriel into something extremely rare for him.

A hug.

"Oh, Gabriel," His lips twisted wryly. "I know you’re hurting, but don’t startle us like that again. Okay? We’re your family too, and we just want to know you’re okay."

Gabriel didn’t move.

He didn’t even hold him back.

Until the choir switched to a song that made him shudder. One he’d always heard his father sing and hum at the top of his lungs during weekends when he handled stuff at the garage.

His fingers tightened around the sleeves of Valentine’s coat, every breath suddenly feeling like he was getting pulled underwater.

"B-But I’m not okay," He croaked, not knowing when the tears he thought he was finally done shedding fell again. "Val, I’m not okay. I-I was supposed to be there. I thought I had a few days or a week at least. He... he was looking so much better when I was... oh, my God..."

He buried his face into Valentine’s neck. "My father is actually... gone." His body trembled with every word. "I’m never... I’m never going to see him again."

Ambrose watched everything from the pew several rows behind.

He didn’t interrupt or call Gabriel’s name.

Some moments simply weren’t meant to be shared by everyone.

He adjusted Orion higher against his shoulder, the sleeping boy letting out a tiny sigh as his cheek rested against Ambrose’s collarbone.

Beside him, Devon quietly folded his hands together while Viktor lowered his gaze toward the polished marble floor.

A week.

It had only been one week since Orion woke screaming in the middle of the night.

"You cannot protect them... They will suffer."

Those words refused to leave Ambrose’s head.

He’d spent the past seven days trying to convince himself it had only been a nightmare. That Ramona had merely wanted to frighten Orion into lowering his guard.

But then Gabriel’s father died mere seconds before the nightmare.

The doctors called it a rapid deterioration. An unfortunate complication from prolonged Aether exposure and an already aggressive cancer.

Logically... It made sense.

Yet something about the timing gnawed at him.

Ramona had appeared in Orion’s dream. She’d shown him people he loved getting hurt.

Then, barely moments prior, the first tragedy struck.

Coincidence?

Ambrose desperately wanted to believe it was.

Unfortunately, he’d encountered enough impossible things since transmigrating to know coincidence wasn’t always innocent.

If she truly had accelerated Mr Silverstone’s death... then who would she come for next?

A warm hand slipped between his own, forcing Ambrose to blink from his thoughts.

Devon.

The redhead didn’t look at him. His attention remained fixed on Gabriel and Valentine near the front of the cathedral, but his thumb slowly brushed across the back of Ambrose’s hand in quiet reassurance.

A second later, Viktor reached over from Ambrose’s other side, briefly squeezing his shoulder before withdrawing again.

No words were exchanged.

None were needed.

A faint smile found Ambrose’s lips despite the heaviness in his chest.

Sometimes it amazed him how these idiots always seemed to know exactly when his thoughts were becoming too loud.

The cathedral gradually settled into silence as the priest approached the altar.

The choir’s voices softened into a hymn that rolled gently through the stained-glass hall while six pallbearers carried the polished mahogany casket down the centre aisle.

Every person present rose to their feet.

Heads bowed.

Prayers murmured beneath trembling breaths.

Gabriel remained standing longer than everyone else, his eyes never leaving the coffin that held the man he’d spent years resenting... only to lose him when reconciliation had finally begun.

When the time came for him to speak, he walked to the lectern on unsteady legs.

His eulogy wasn’t loud or dramatic.

Yet every pause, every crack in his voice, and every moment he stopped to gather himself carried more weight than polished words ever could. Some mourners quietly wiped their eyes while others lowered their heads, allowing the grief of a son saying goodbye to settle over the cathedral like a blanket.

When Gabriel finally stepped away from the podium, Valentine was already there waiting for him.

Without hesitation, he rested a steady hand against Gabriel’s back and guided him gently to his seat.

Ambrose watched the exchange in silence.

Then his gaze drifted back to Orion’s peacefully sleeping face.

’Please, don’t let that nightmare become a prophecy.’