The school bell rang echoed across the campus as the final homeroom period of the year arrived. As legions of excited students tore through the hallways - some already loosening their ties and throwing off their blazers in anticipation of the coming summer - Cobalt stood alone in the staff bathroom, staring hard at himself in the mirror.

He remembered the first time he stepped in here, at the start of last year. How he peered at himself, all bright-eyed and excited, a new teacher with hopes for the future. How innocent and naive he was.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

It was clear from a glance that Cobalt had changed. He had lost weight; his clothes were hanging off him, and he had to put a new notch in his belt just to keep his trousers up. His skin - which once bore the slight iridescence of a healthy Lust Demon - had paled to sickly, matte shade. When he rolled up his sleeves he found his hands riddled with scars and his arms covered in bites, and once glance at the warped, burned skin on his legs was enough to force his gaze away. And despite all the damage he had borne witness to himself, he found deterioration that had escaped his notice up until that moment. The rips in the membrane of his wings. The chip missing from the spade of his tail. The nicks and scratches that lacked an origin.

Cobalt stared at his face. His face. It had changed most of all. His hair, having been neglected, had overgrown, and his face was beginning to grow a fine stubble. It did little to hide the marks on his face that hadn't quite yet healed; the two scars on his cheeks from where Lilith had stabbed him during his possession by Immoderata. But his eyes drew his attention most of all. His mother always taught him to be proud of them. Amber wasn't the most common colour.

He gazed at him. Tones of orange flecked with red, his eyes burning with something indescribable.

Beneath his feet, he could feel himself walking on the knife's edge. One way or another, he was living his last days. He could feel it in his bones, and no amount of preparation could soften the impact of that fact. Brass' words a few night ago on the back porch helped settle his tumultuous mind, but with his resolve bolstered, Cobalt found himself ready to take the plunge and sever the last few connections tying him down.

Whitney and Karazelle. They couldn't cling to him any longer. He had to get them to back off, no matter the cost.

He could suffer the heartbreak so long as they were safe.

"Cobalt..." Lilith said, sounding distant.

The Devil had her opinions, but her words could sway him no longer. She knew it as well as he did; this was the final strait.

"I'm late for class," he breathed, picking up his satchel and stepping out of the bathroom.

B.I.D... when had it grown so alien to him? The stark stone walls covered in posters and noticeboards, the ancient floors covered in cheap linoleum that was scuffed daily by hundreds of shoes, the grand iron muntin windows that flooded the halls with the afternoon sun's golden light... As he walked down the empty corridor towards his classroom, a chill ran down Cobalt's spine.

This was it, wasn't it? His last homeroom class, and he was just as late to it as he was to his very first.

It was funny how these things worked.

He reached the door and stopped for a moment. The Language classroom on the second floor. His core class homeroom. A place where so many of his most beloved memories had been made.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The students all fell silent as Cobalt slowly made his way up towards the teacher's desk. Some were sitting on their desks, some held their phones, some were even standing and leaning against the walls; just as they had been on his very first day. Izzbelle sat down the back, feet on the desk as ever, glaring at the Incubus with a look of barely-disguised rage. Jelli was close by, hiding her face the moment Cobalt entered the room. Whitney sat up straight at his approach, her desk sitting apart from everyone else. Lottie smiled and tried to wave, only for Quinn to grab her hand and shake her head sternly. And the only Succubus in the class, who had stared so intently at him from day one...

Her seat lay empty.

Nobody said a word as his footsteps echoed off the floor. Coming to a stop at the teacher's desk, Cobalt set his satchel down and took a breath. He turned to gaze at Class 3-F.

"This is it," he said quietly, leaning against the desk.

Nobody said a thing. Funny... not that long ago his class would be tripping over themselves just to interrupt him.

"End of the line... Listen. The final exams will be taking place next week in the assembly hall. I'm sure you'll all do fine."

He took a deep breath.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"You'll be fine regardless. Pass or fail, you won't be seeing me anymore. There's a cold comfort in that, right?" the Incubus continued with a slight smile.

Among all his students, only Arnn Srenth deigned to speak up. He look around at his peers before clearing his throat and raising his hand.

"Uh... What do you mean?"

"... Don't worry about it. Just know that school isn't everything. When you all move on with your lives and fulfil your dreams - be they related to family, careers or anything else - you'll find that your time at B.I.D. will be little more than a blip."

His smile faded.

"In fact, you might feel like you don't even remember being here at all..." he murmured.

"Sir...?" Whitney called, worry clearly written upon her face.

Cobalt shook his head and continued.

"In the two years I've spent with all of your, through everything that I've brought down upon your heads, you've all managed to develop into such fine demons. As your core teacher, I couldn't be prouder."

At the back, Izzbelle snorted deridingly.

"I was your second core teacher. But you are all my first students. So thank you for being so patient with me."

He bowed his head.

"It... It has really been nothing short of an honour," Cobalt said, gazing hard at the ground.

His students stared on in silence, stunned by his words. With nothing left to say, Cobalt picked up his satchel and left the room. As he made his way down the hall, the school's bell rang for the last time, signaling the end of the educational year. All around him, doors opened with resounding clangs as demons of all stripes spilled out of the rooms, fixing to launch right into their summer break without another thought. But as students rushed past and faculty called after them, Cobalt kept his head low and his stride broad. If he wished to continue with a clear head, then he couldn't linger too long.

He heard rapid footfalls behind him.

"Is that, like, it?!" cried a sharp voice, startling everyone in the corridor.

The Incubus came to a halt.

"Whitney," he breathed, peering over his shoulder.

The Nymph stood in the centre of the hallway, gasping for breath after having just ran all the way after him. Holding her hand to her chest, the Nymph gestured to Cobalt with the hook of her prosthetic.

"What the Hell was that, sir?! You've been worrying me sick, and this is all I get from you?!"

"... Go home, Miss Brode. Get some rest. I'm sure you've earned it by now."

"What's the matter with you?! Why are you doing this?!"

He frowned. Cobalt could feel the burning gazes of students all around him, and yet for some reason... they no longer bothered him.

"Doing what-?"

"Don't treat me like an idiot, sir! I thought we were past that!"

She marched towards the Incubus, grabbed his shoulders and rapidly flipped him around, forcing him to gaze straight into her eyes. She looked angry, but beyond that... hurt.

"Izzbelle and Jelli, Quinn and Lottie, Hell, even Elya... what happened?! Why are they acting like that?!"

Her voice was edged with a tone of desperation.

"Whitney, please. You're making a scene," Cobalt mumbled in response, glancing around at the amassing crowd.

"I could give a rat's ass about making a scene, sir! Just tell me! Why is everyone acting so weird?!"

The Incubus took a deep breath. He could feel the beginnings of regret spark in his gut, but he quashed the feelings down as far as they would go.

"Whitney, it's the end of the year. The end of your tertiary education. As of a few minutes ago, your education has ended. You really needn't worry yourself with-"

"Then what's your answer?!"

Cobalt froze up.

"... What...?" he breathed, cocking his head.

The Nymph stared him down, her one hand balled into a fist.

"Back at my house, you told me that you'd give me your answer when I graduated. The answer to a question you said you couldn't ask. Seeing as my education is over, like you said, then tell me what it is!"

Her impassioned demand stunned him, prompting her to continued with conviction he had never before seen in Whitney.

"If you won't ask that question, sir, then I will! After everything you've done for us - everything we've been through together - do you love us?! Any of us?!"

Cobalt swallowed hard.

"... This isn't a very appropriate line of questioning, Miss Brode," he breathed, struggling to keep his cool.

"Bullshit, sir! With all due respect! You saved our lives, over and over again! If that's not love then what is?!"

"That's-"

"What about that thing with Izzbelle and the wedding?! Or when Elya tried to kill Quinn last Halloween?!"

"Whitney-"

"And Jelli with that big icicle?! What about the Devils that attacked us?!"

"That's enough-!"

"Diate?! That guy with the rifle?!"

"Miss Brode-!"

"What about the Devil that did this to me, sir?!"

She raised her prosthesis, allowing the metal hook to glint off the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"I was going to die that night, sir. But because of what you did, I got another chance to live. Same with all the others; everything you did for them, you did not do out of, like, obligation or whatever. Because if that's not love, then I don't know what is."

The Nymph took a deep breath.

"I'm not stupid, Cobalt. I know what your answer is gonna be. But it's the fact that you can't even say it that bothers me, even as everyone is drifting away. Don't you get it? If you don't say something, then-"

"I did it."

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

Reaching forward, Cobalt grabbed the yellowed plastic casing of Whitney's prosthetic arm and pulled her forward. Holding it up to her face, he fixed her with an intense stare.

"I devoured your arm that night, Whitney," he told her, keeping his voice as flat and to-the-point a possible.

The colour drained from the Nymph's face as she completely froze up. She tried to pull out of his grasp, but his kept his fingers locked firm.

"It was a spur of the moment thing. But that Devil only attacked you in an effort to get to me. And as a result of my actions, you lost your arm, which I ate in order to put him in the ground. The fact that you need this..."

He stared hard at the prosthetic.

"... is my fault. Everything that you've all been through has been my fault," Cobalt breathed, letting go.

She stumbled back, pale as a sheet as she clutched at her arm.

"Wh- What happened to you, sir?" Whitney asked, her voice quiet and shaking.

Looking away, Cobalt adjusted his tie and picked his satchel back up.

"I suggest you get some rest and finish up with any study you have left. The exams will be on you before you know it."

He turned and left, unable to stomach the hurt look on Whitney's face any longer.

That was that, then. The end of the line in more than one way.

Only a single student remained, and she was the one he had been dreading confronting the most.