The instant Verena stepped through the glowing exit, the heavy astral hum of the labyrinth faded. In its place ca the faint chatter of reunited students, the soft buzz of nervous laughter, and the distant clatter of spells and swords still echoing from far-off trials. The waiting area beyond the Trial Gates was carved into the bedrock beneath Irasios Academy itself—a grand atrium glittering with star-forged stone, the vaulted ceiling above etched with shifting constellations that glead like living ink.
She wasn’t alone.
Clusters of first-years were sprawled across the marble floor and benches, so slumped in exhaustion, others chattering excitedly about their trials. Teachers and proctors in embroidered navy robes observed from the edges, faces unreadable, clipboards floating beside them as they scribbled evaluations into glowing ledgers.
Verena’s gaze swept the room—and imdiately landed on her.
Evelyn.
The girl stood at the far end of the hall, flanked by Sera, Isolde, and Beatrice. They looked rough around the edges, covered in gri, a few bandages here and there—but alive. And judging by the subtle shimr of achievent notifications floating faintly above their heads, victorious.
Saphira, still coiled around Verena’s wrist, flicked her tongue. Well, look at that. Your disaster harem made it through alive.
Verena snorted under her breath, the tight knot in her chest loosening slightly. "Hilarious."
Before she could take another step toward them, a blur of pink barreled into her side.
"VERENA!!"
Vivienne latched onto her like a limpet, arms wrapped around Verena’s waist, her face buried against her shoulder.
"You—you made it! You didn’t get eaten by space or drowned or—"
"Breathe," Verena interrupted, patting the girl’s back with half-hearted exasperation. "I’m not that easy to kill."
Isolde’s sharp voice sliced through the reunion from across the hall. "Tch. She collects strays like lost socks, I swear."
Beatrice only smiled softly, while Sera gave a teasing thumbs-up.
Evelyn, though...
Her eyes locked onto Verena’s, bright and steady, with an emotion Verena couldn’t quite na. Pride? Worry? Sothing else entirely? Whatever it was, it twisted sothing warm and unfamiliar in Verena’s chest.
But the brief comfort of victory shattered as Headmaster Calla’s voice rang out through the atrium.
"Attention, all participants."
The hall fell silent.
Calla stood upon an elevated platform, her white uniform practically glowing under the astral light, golden cuffs gleaming as her hands clasped behind her back. Her expression, as always, was unreadable—a calm sea hiding untold depths.
"Congratulations on surviving the Labyrinth of Ascendance," Calla began, her voice carrying effortlessly. "You have faced your reflections, your fears, and your limits. But this was rely the first proving ground."
Verena’s stomach sank.
Of course there was more.
Calla gestured, and behind her, the constellations on the atrium ceiling shifted, realigning themselves like a cosmic clock ticking forward. The familiar zodiac patterns burned brighter—except this ti, several of them flickered ominously in shades of crimson.
"The Convergence," Calla announced, eyes narrowing slightly. "The astral rotations have accelerated. Those of you attuned to the weave may already feel it."
A ripple of unease passed through the students. Verena stiffened.
The Convergence—when the leylines and constellations crossed at dangerous angles, amplifying magic, warping fate, and throwing the entire academy into temporary chaos. It wasn’t supposed to happen this early.
Calla continued, "As such, the trials will not conclude with the Labyrinth alone. Selected students will advance to a supplental test—an evaluation of adaptability, unity... and survival."
Murmurs broke out across the atrium.
Saphira hissed softly beside Verena’s ear. They’re accelerating the plot. That wasn’t supposed to happen yet, was it?
"Nope," Verena whispered, lips pressed tight.
The worst part? She could already guess which students they’d single out for the next round.
Calla confird it a heartbeat later.
"The top-ranked individuals and teams will participate. Nas are listed—review them."
A glowing list appeared in midair. Verena’s na glead near the top.
Beneath it: Evelyn. Isolde. Sera. Beatrice. Vivienne.
Her entire disaster squad.
Verena groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I hate being right."
From across the room, Evelyn was already walking toward her, a determined glint in her eye.
The next storm was already here.
Evelyn stopped just short of Verena, her expression calm, but her eyes practically vibrating with pent-up energy. She was clearly riding the high of survival, of success, of the impossible idea that sohow, she wasn’t entirely the ek girl from the start of the sester.
"You ready?" Evelyn asked, voice softer than expected but steady. There was no teasing in it—just quiet, unshakable resolve.
Verena almost laughed. "Absolutely not."
Evelyn grinned. "Too bad."
Sera, predictably, arrived like a stormcloud rolling in, slinging an arm around both their shoulders without asking permission. "Hah! We made it! Kicked that labyrinth’s ass—what’s one more trial?"
"About five more near-death experiences," Verena muttered, peeling Sera’s arm off her neck like it was so invasive vine.
Beatrice and Isolde trailed behind, Beatrice smiling faintly as always, but Isolde... Verena caught the sharp, assessing glance the woman shot her way. The kind of look that said, I know you know sothing’s off here.
And it was. The accelerated Convergence, this "supplental trial," the crimson-flickering constellations... It wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Not from what Verena rembered of the book, and certainly not from the systemic whispers and pop-ups that had been haunting her every choice.
Before she could voice any of those concerns, another figure approached—their ever-familiar snake of a headmaster.
Calla had descended from the platform, gliding across the marble floor like she was above the concept of walking. Her eyes swept the group, lingering a second too long on Verena, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Novas Covenant," Calla greeted smoothly, addressing their team na. "You’ve... exceeded expectations."
Verena’s spine locked rigid. Complints from Calla were never good.
"Is that... good?" Beatrice asked carefully, as if already sensing the catch.
Calla’s smile sharpened. "That depends on your tolerance for suffering."
Sera groaned loudly. "Oh for—just say it! Don’t do the cryptic ntor thing!"
Ignoring her, Calla produced a glowing sigil—an astral seal bearing the twelve zodiac emblems arranged in a spiraling ouroboros. It pulsed faintly, threads of starlight tethered to the ceiling’s shifting constellations.
"You will be briefed in thirty minutes," Calla stated. "Your next trial will not wait. Rest if you can. Trust ... you’ll want the clarity."
And with that, she was gone, vanishing into the crowd like mist.
The mont she was out of earshot, Saphira popped her head from Verena’s collar, tongue flicking in agitation. She’s enjoying this way too much.
"No kidding," Verena muttered, running a hand down her face.
The group migrated toward one of the marble benches, half collapsing onto it. Beatrice sat with folded hands, Evelyn plopped down beside Verena far too comfortably, and Sera sprawled like she owned the damn academy.
Only Isolde remained standing, arms crossed, gaze sharp as ever.
"So," Isolde began, "What aren’t you telling us?"
All eyes shifted to Verena.
Caught.
Verena lifted both hands. "Hey, hey, I’d love to lie, but I’m way too tired. I genuinely don’t know what this supplental trial is. It’s not part of the... curriculum I reviewed."
Not technically a lie. She hadn’t read that far ahead. Because the plot never went this way.
Isolde didn’t look convinced, but before the interrogation could deepen, the sigil Calla left behind pulsed, casting a projection into the air.
An elaborate arena materialized in the display—a forest of obsidian pillars, crystalline fog weaving through the air, fragnts of floating platforms that drifted like broken puzzle pieces.
Verena’s stomach twisted with recognition.
Oh. That wasn’t supposed to happen yet.
It wasn’t part of the first sester trials. It was endga content. A late-volu death trap ant to cull the weak and fracture alliances.
She’d only skimd the details in her hazy mory, but one thing was clear: the survival rate wasn’t generous.
The group collectively stared.
Sera whistled low. "Hah... Looks fun."
"Your idea of fun worries ," Verena deadpanned.
Evelyn leaned her head on Verena’s shoulder, that sa quiet, hopeful smile lingering. "We’ll be fine. We’ve made it this far."
Verena wanted to believe that.
But the pit in her stomach told her... surviving this was going to cost them sothing.
Verena forced a crooked smile, but her fingers twitched against her leg. The projected arena hovered above them like a cosmic threat, its eerie glow casting long shadows over their group. She could feel the weight of it settling on her chest—the kind of pressure that ca before everything went downhill.
Saphira, still curled at her collarbone, hissed softly, voice threading into her ear. You know that place. You’ve read it.
"Yeah," Verena whispered under her breath. "And I rember how many people died there."
But the others were watching her now—Evelyn’s hopeful gaze, Sera’s reckless grin, Beatrice’s quiet concern, even Isolde’s suspicion. They were ready to walk into it together.
So, no choice but to fake confidence.
Reviews
All reviews (0)