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[The Novel is undergoing editing to et quality standards.]

The last wyvern let out a lodramatic screech before plumting, headfirst, into one of Vivienne’s shimring fake clouds. It vanished with a loud PLOP, and for a brief, glorious mont, silence fell upon the battlefield.

Then ca the familiar chi.

WAVE 2: CLEAREDPARTY STATUS: SLIGHTLY TRAUMATIZEDSYSTEM ADVICE: Maybe take a snack break?NEXT TRIAL DOOR UNLOCKED.

Verena flopped onto the ground, spread-eagle and gasping. "If I ever survive this, I’m going to commission a statue of myself. It’s going to have laser eyes and one foot on a wyvern head."

"Make sure to put Vivienne next to you," Isolde teased, sitting down gracefully beside her. "Cuddling your ankle or sothing."

Vivienne perked up, cheeks flushing. "Oh! Can I actually do that?"

"NO!" Verena sat bolt upright, red as a beet. "You’re not allowed to be encouraging about that!"

"I just think we’d look cute," Vivienne pouted, nudging her illusion to form a tiny statue preview of the scene—complete with sparkles and a dramatic wind effect on Verena’s imaginary cape.

"Stop. It." Verena swatted at the illusion, and it poofed into glitter.

Isolde chuckled, watching them with mild amusent. "Okay, but weirdly enough? This might be our most functional team run yet."

"You’re just saying that because we haven’t all emotionally imploded yet," Verena muttered, brushing dirt off her coat. "The bar is in hell."

Vivienne tilted her head. "That’s okay! We can just raise the bar together!"

"Why does that sound like the kind of inspirational quote soone puts on a tote bag?" Verena sighed.

They regrouped, approaching the glowing archway that shimred ahead—Trial Three’s entrance. The pillars around it flickered with magic, and a new line of golden text appeared.

TRIAL THREE: THE MIRAGE MAZEOBJECTIVE: TRUST, TEAMWORK, AND TACTICAL ILLUSIONSWARNING: MISCOMMUNICATION WILL BE PUNISHED.

Isolde squinted at it. "Wait. Punished how?"

Vivienne raised her hand like a student. "In the novel, I think this is where Evelyn got separated from the others and accidentally walked into a mory trap that replayed her most painful rejection on loop for five hours straight."

"...We are not doing that," Verena said flatly. "We are going to finish this trial, stay sane, and collect our damn affection points."

Isolde smirked. "And then what? Make out with Evelyn in a rose garden while fireworks explode overhead?"

"Don’t tempt fate," Verena warned.

They stepped into the Mirage Maze—and imdiately, the world twisted.

Corridors of glass spiraled outward, reflecting dozens of versions of themselves. So were accurate. Others distorted. One version of Vivienne was in full battle armor, wielding an oversized sword. Another showed Verena in a frilly dress holding hands with five girls at once.

"Oh. Oh no," Verena whispered, staring at it in horror. "This is my nightmare."

"This is my dream," Vivienne whispered beside her.

Isolde patted Verena’s back. "Welco to the Trial of Unwanted Fanservice."

And with that, the real challenge began.

3

Navigating the Mirage Maze was like being stuck inside a fever dream curated by an unhinged fangirl with too much ti and magical power.

"Okay, rule number one," Verena muttered as she squinted at yet another mirror that showed her dramatically twirling into the arms of a swooning Evelyn. "No one look directly at the walls. They’re all lies. Pretty, dangerous lies."

"But look at this one!" Vivienne pointed eagerly to a reflection of herself giving an inspiring speech on top of a mountain, rallying crowds. "I look so cool here! I’m crying while being brave!"

"Girl, we just got you to stop sniffling when soone raises their voice," Isolde said dryly. "Pick your battles."

They turned a corner and promptly walked into a dead end—or so they thought. The mont Verena reached out to touch the wall, it rippled like a pond and swallowed her hand whole.

"Nope," she said, yanking it back. "Maze wants us to pick a path based on our feelings, not logic."

"Oh no," Isolde deadpanned. "We’re screwed."

Vivienne stepped forward and closed her eyes. Her aura shimred faintly with the pearlescent glow of Dreamtide magic. "Give a mont. I’ll feel out the right way."

Verena blinked. "Wait... is that actually useful?"

The girl’s hands glided in the air like she was conducting invisible emotions. "This path here feels like sha and self-loathing... that one reeks of pride and... ooh! That one’s resentnt-flavored! We probably need to go toward the path of mutual trust and vulnerability."

"Are you sure it’s not just the lingering scent of our trauma?" Verena muttered.

"Only one way to find out!" Vivienne chirped and stepped into the passage of "mutual trust." The wall accepted her, no dramatic explosion necessary.

"Alright, she didn’t explode," Isolde said. "That’s a good sign."

Verena sighed and followed, Isolde right behind her.

They erged into what looked like an open forest glade—except the trees bent at unnatural angles, the sky shifted colors like an oil spill, and the air buzzed with the sound of... giggling?

"Welco, brave challengers," a voice echoed around them—soft, sultry, and vaguely annoying. "To pass this stage, you must confront your deepest trust issues. The maze will now separate you and present a scene where your emotions will be tested!"

"Hard pass," Verena muttered. "Can I roll to skip?"

Too late. The ground beneath them shimred, and all three were yanked into separate illusionary bubbles.

Verena found herself standing in front of Evelyn—except not the real Evelyn. This one had glowing eyes, windswept hair, and the dramatic lighting of a protagonist in an emotionally manipulative confession scene.

"I’ve always loved you, Verena," the illusion-Evelyn said, reaching out. "But I can’t be with soone who won’t open up."

Verena blinked. "Okay, wow. The Maze really is out for my emotional kneecaps."

Sowhere else, Isolde faced a vision of Verena walking away, saying, "You’re too perfect. I can’t compete."

And Vivienne? She faced herself. Crying, shaking, whispering, "Everyone leaves."

Well. So much for a low-stakes puzzle room.

Navigating the Mirage Maze was like being stuck inside a fever dream curated by an unhinged fangirl with too much ti and magical power.

"Okay, rule number one," Verena muttered as she squinted at yet another mirror that showed her dramatically twirling into the arms of a swooning Evelyn. "No one look directly at the walls. They’re all lies. Pretty, dangerous lies."

"But look at this one!" Vivienne pointed eagerly to a reflection of herself giving an inspiring speech on top of a mountain, rallying crowds. "I look so cool here! I’m crying while being brave!"

"Girl, we just got you to stop sniffling when soone raises their voice," Isolde said dryly. "Pick your battles."

They turned a corner and promptly walked into a dead end—or so they thought. The mont Verena reached out to touch the wall, it rippled like a pond and swallowed her hand whole.

"Nope," she said, yanking it back. "Maze wants us to pick a path based on our feelings, not logic."

"Oh no," Isolde deadpanned. "We’re screwed."

Vivienne stepped forward and closed her eyes. Her aura shimred faintly with the pearlescent glow of Dreamtide magic. "Give a mont. I’ll feel out the right way."

Verena blinked. "Wait... is that actually useful?"

The girl’s hands glided in the air like she was conducting invisible emotions. "This path here feels like sha and self-loathing... that one reeks of pride and... ooh! That one’s resentnt-flavored! We probably need to go toward the path of mutual trust and vulnerability."

"Are you sure it’s not just the lingering scent of our trauma?" Verena muttered.

"Only one way to find out!" Vivienne chirped and stepped into the passage of "mutual trust." The wall accepted her, no dramatic explosion necessary.

"Alright, she didn’t explode," Isolde said. "That’s a good sign."

Verena sighed and followed, Isolde right behind her.

They erged into what looked like an open forest glade—except the trees bent at unnatural angles, the sky shifted colors like an oil spill, and the air buzzed with the sound of... giggling?

"Welco, brave challengers," a voice echoed around them—soft, sultry, and vaguely annoying. "To pass this stage, you must confront your deepest trust issues. The maze will now separate you and present a scene where your emotions will be tested!"

"Hard pass," Verena muttered. "Can I roll to skip?"

Too late. The ground beneath them shimred, and all three were yanked into separate illusionary bubbles.

Verena found herself standing in front of Evelyn—except not the real Evelyn. This one had glowing eyes, windswept hair, and the dramatic lighting of a protagonist in an emotionally manipulative confession scene.

"I’ve always loved you, Verena," the illusion-Evelyn said, reaching out. "But I can’t be with soone who won’t open up."

Verena blinked. "Okay, wow. The Maze really is out for my emotional kneecaps."

Sowhere else, Isolde faced a vision of Verena walking away, saying, "You’re too perfect. I can’t compete."

And Vivienne? She faced herself. Crying, shaking, whispering, "Everyone leaves."

Well. So much for a low-stakes puzzle room.

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