(AFK WORM) CHAPTER THREE

Taylor’s training would have to wait.

It wasn’t that Shemira didn’t see the importance of it. Quite the opposite, in fact. She wanted her daughter to be able to protect herself in a world where monsters wore human faces, and heroes were sometimes little better. But the Heberts were still recovering, both financially and emotionally, and the bills piling up on the kitchen counter were reminder enough that sentiment couldn’t come before survival.

So, for now, the Graveborn mage set aside plans of arcane practice and self-defense, and instead returned to her moral obligations: a life of lectures, papers, and classrooms filled with restless students.

Brockton Bay City College—or BBCC, as said students called it—was no place of prestige. It wasn’t one of those New England storied campuses, where ivy crept up sandstone walls and the air smelled faintly of old paper and even older money. No, BBCC was practical, utilitarian, and perpetually under renovation. The architecture was a patchwork of decades: concrete blocks from the seventies, glass-and-steel expansions from the nineties, and modern classrooms that looked like they’d been dropped from the sky last week.

But there was a strange charm to it all. Students came here because they had to—because tuition was cheap, or because family tied them down to Brockton Bay—but many stayed because they found something worth learning. And for that, Shemira respected it.

Her return to campus, however, came with unspoken complications. Because one of her students wasn’t just another face in the sea of young adults trying to scrape by. She was Crystal Pelham, Laserdream of New Wave.

Shemira had recognized her the moment she walked into the lecture hall. The Pelham girl carried herself with the poise of someone raised under both spotlight and scrutiny, polite, attentive, and always ready to help her classmates. The kind of student teachers quietly prayed for.

And yet, Shemira couldn’t help but see danger there.

It wasn't because Crystal was dangerous, though she undoubtedly was, but because she could see. Capes had instincts honed to notice what others missed. They had to, to survive. And Shemira was walking around in a borrowed life, wearing Annette Hebert’s face but guided by a soul that was only half hers.

It had been easy enough to fool ordinary people. Danny’s eyes lingered on her sometimes, soft with confusion and concern, but he didn't press. Taylor... Taylor had withdrawn, silent and wary, as if trying to reconcile her mother’s voice with the foreign thing beneath it. But they were family and they loved her, so they tended to ignore any difference, even those that were glaring.

Crystal, though... she would know.

Shemira could already imagine the headlines: Professor Hebert Mastered? Or worse, New Wave Exposes Doppelganger in Brockton Bay College.

She took a deep breath as she approached the classroom door, smoothing her blouse with a motion that was more Annette’s than her own. One wrong word, one slip of tone, and New Wave’s righteous spotlight would fall directly on her. And she wasn’t sure what would happen to Annette’s family if that occurred.

But when the door opened, confetti exploded into the air.

“Welcome back, Professor Hebert!” someone shouted.

Shemira blinked as a burst of color filled the air. The classroom had been decorated hastily but warmly, with streamers in mismatched colors tapped at odd angles, a paper banner that read We Missed You!, and a modest chocolate cake sitting proudly on her desk. The students beamed at her, phones out, grinning like the children most forgot they were.

Even Crystal smiled, that wholesome, genuine kind of smile that made Shemira’s chest ache with the faintest pang of guilt for her earlier thoughts.

For a moment, Shemira could only stand there, caught off guard.

“Oh,” she breathed, and then, with a small, startled laugh, “you shouldn’t have.”

One of the students—tall, nervous, and clearly the ringleader—grinned sheepishly. “We got permission from the administration because we had to. You nearly died, Professor. We missed you!”

She let her gaze sweep across the faces before her, warmth blooming in her chest despite herself. They weren’t like those that came to her, grateful for her husband’s help, soldiers or nobles or spirits bound by oaths; they were simply students, ordinary, hopeful, and painfully genuine in their earnestness to build something in such a broken world.

And for a second, even if it wasn't directed at her, her chest was filled with a warmth she hadn't felt in years.

But then, Crystal approached after the laughter died down, as the class settled into the familiar rhythm of chatter, and the cake was being divided among everyone. “It’s good to have you back, Professor,” she said sincerely, her blue eyes bright, and her tone as polite as ever. “You seem… well.”

Shemira smiled, though she could feel the careful scrutiny behind those words. “I’m getting there. Still finding my footing.”

Crystal nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Accidents like that change people, I guess.”

They do, Shemira wanted to say. They change everything. But instead, she merely replied, “Yes. They certainly do.”

And so as Crystal turned away to help pass out plates, Shemira let her smile fade, just a fraction. The room’s laughter washed around her like a tide she stood apart from.

It was too soon to tell if the girl truly suspected anything, but she’d spoken a truth nonetheless. Accidents did change people, and in a world like Earth Bet, that change was rarely just psychological.