Despair smothered the room. They stood there numbly, huddling next to the ornate doors that either lead to salvation…or destruction. Too afraid to find out which.

Eventually, Millie broke the silence.

“It…it has to be a bluff, right? Nothing happened when we passed the time limit, so…”

She tried to be encouraging but faltered. Her voice trailed off into a mumble as she saw the shock plastered across the faces of the group. No one could meet her eyes.

She didn’t blame them. The feeling of guilt that this was all somehow her fault was nearly overwhelming. She didn’t want to believe that, of course, but…she also couldn’t dismiss the thought. Everyone had risked life and limb to help her. To protect her.

People had died for her.

No, she thought. Not for me. They did it because I’m pregnant. They don’t even know me. She almost laughed. It was absurd. Was this just biology? An innate drive to protect the next generation? After all, if a decent person sees a pregnant woman standing on the train, won’t they give up their seat for her? How much more would they do for a pregnant woman in an alien death trap? Wouldn’t they throw themselves into the fire to save her?

That was…ridiculous. For one thing, it wasn’t a fair comparison. For another, she could hardly believe anyone would even be that altruistic. Millie was pretty sure she wouldn’t be willing to go that far. But there had been hundreds of people in the pit. And of the hundreds, it was those who were most willing to protect a helpless mother who had rushed to her aide. Who had stayed with her. Who would presumably now die alongside her.

Was it all for nothing?

“We should’ve just fucking left like I said!”

Millie’s bitter thoughts were interrupted. The group turned to see D’marco arguing with his sister, their words quickly growing heated. The beautiful woman recoiled at the sudden shout, only to square her shoulders and glare back at her brother. Something unspoken passed between the two, but Isabella eventually turned away with a grimace. That only seemed to incense the slender boy more though. He cursed loudly, only to be answered by a roar from the beast in the tank. D’marco refused to stop shouting, even as several members of the group tried to shush him, and in his fury, he ignored everyone and marched over the glass tank. Then he kicked it.

“Stupid fucking fish, you can—fuck!”

D’marco wheeled back when the creature slammed into the glass in retaliation. As he backpedaled, his sister lunged forward, pulling him back by his shirt as the rest of the group instinctively huddled against the walls. The translucent material of the beast’s cage vibrated ominously. But in the end, it held. After a while, the room fell quiet once more.

After a nervous breath, Isabella spun her brother around to face her. She then punched D’marco on the arm. Hard.

“Don’t be a god damned idiot.”

“But—”

“Shut it!” She hissed softly. “This is what’s happening now so deal with it.” Isabella then looked over the rest of the group before her eyes settled on Raj. “Hey—big guy. Any thoughts on what do we do now?”

Raj hesitated before glancing over at Millie, but Millie couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He sighed and turned back to Isabella.

“We keep going if we can. Since we haven’t died yet, for all we know there isn’t a limit and they were just getting us going. A bluff, like Millie said. And if not, maybe there’s just a penalty. We’ll deal with that if we have to. Either way, we can only go forward.”

The rest of the group nodded solemnly in agreement. Taking their support, Raj then approached the ornate doors. He took a deep breath to steady himself, before reaching forward to grab the handle. He paused, before twisting slowly. A second later, a loud click rang out. Millie held her breath, alongside most of the others, before letting it go as the door swung open.

“We’re not locked in. That’s encouraging, at least,” Raj muttered, before looking over his shoulder to the group. “Okay, marching order everyone. Isabella and D’marco, you can stand—”

“Fuck off,” D’marco said, before stomping forward. Raj, however, laid one large hand on the tall boy’s chest and stopped him dead in his tracks. From the strain on D’marco’s face, he was clearly trying to manhandle his way through, only to look confused at how easily Raj stopped him.

“For all we know there could be another trial, kid,” he told him. “Stay with your sister.”

D’marco glared incredulously at the shorter, muscle-covered man before letting out a mirthless laugh.

“You better get your hand right the fuck off me, shit-lips. Now.”

Raj raised an eyebrow at the insult—clearly more amused than intimidated by a boy he probably could’ve twisted into a pretzel—but before the situation could escalate further, Isabella glided up next to her brother, stood on her toes, reached up, and yanked down on his ear. D’marco protested, loudly, but she ignored him as she proceeded to drag him back.

“Stop acting like a little shit,” she said, her voice rising in anger. “Get in line or so help me I will beat your ass so badly that fucking worm won’t even find you worth eating!”

The creature roared, possibly in protest to her suggestion it would pass up a free meal, but most likely because of the noise. Isabella ignored it, however, and lined up with her brother in the back, who sulked as he rubbed at his ear. The beast drifted to the glass, almost seeming to stare at the group longingly, but they turned away from it, forming a line, two abreast. Raj motioned for everyone to head out, stepping forward as Liam followed a half step behind and to his side.

Unsurprisingly, the door opened up to another portal. The black, yawning abyss was still as nebulous and distressing as always, but one by one the group crossed through, disappearing from view. Once Millie joined them, she found herself in a rather unremarkable stone tunnel.

It was similar to the ones they’d seen in the labyrinth but lacked torches. It was also narrower and better maintained. No rubble or ruin could be seen, but it was also nearly pitch black save for a light off in the distance. As such, Millie had to hold out a hand to feel the wall on her side to keep herself oriented. Her feet padded softly against the cold floor, clueing her in on the fact that she had lost her second shoe in the chaos.

But at this point, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She liked being barefoot more anyway.

After a few minutes of walking—Raj holding a phone someone handed him to watch the floor for pressure plates—the light at the end of the hall grew more vivid and its shape became apparent. It was a white portal, the first of its kind they’d seen. An unspoken urgency swept through the group, and they picked up their pace and reached it quickly. Much like the portals from before, those that stepped through seemed to disappear. But as Millie joined them, walking past the glowing threshold, the tunnel gave way to a huge room filled with the sound of...music?

Before them was a sprawling amphitheater. It was larger than the concert hall in the Sydney Opera House that Millie had visited as a child. Its seating was comprised of stone benches that swept across the ground and surrounded an empty middle stage in a crescent arc. Beyond the stage were rows upon rows of robotic beings. Hundreds of them. Those at stage level played instruments, many of which looked normal at first, only to reveal strange variations and designs upon closer inspection. Above the band were tiered seats filled with a robotic choir all singing softly. Millie didn’t recognize their song, beautiful as it was, but it sounded like a piece of celebratory, classical music.

They weren’t alone, however. Around them, Millie saw survivors milling about on the flat outskirts of the amphitheater. They clustered around makeshift-looking tents, tables, and seats more at home with a humanitarian crisis camp than a theater. Metallic beings bustled to and fro, speaking with survivors, handing out food, drink, and the occasional glowing hand that left survivors speechless and far less bloody. Along the wall that faced the amphitheater, were dozens of other white portals, one of which blinked out as a survivor came staggering out.

Millie glanced backward—suddenly concerned that their portal might cut off before everyone made it past—but the Navarro siblings appeared without issue. And just after they did, the white portal winked out. In its wake though, Millie stared at a glass wall framed by dark wooden struts, and through the glass was an unfamiliar, yet breath-taking starry sky. Millie’s eyes trailed upward to find the walls give way to an arching ceiling that enclosed the entire area. Thankfully, there was no sign of the dark clouds that had hung over the pit where they’d first arrived. Instead, murals dominated the view above, with lights strategically placed along the scenes as though to highlight the action. But Millie snapped out of her observation when she noticed a robot approach their group.

“Welcome, and congratulations for completing the Initiate’s test!” It said. “If you require nourishment, please direct your attention to the area to my right. If you require medical attention, please see to my left. Otherwise, at the conclusion of the initiation test, the Headmaster will appear to commence the welcoming ceremony.”

The metallic being spoke with a perfect customer service voice that would have put any call center to shame. Her warm smile seemed inviting and kind at first, but it covered her face with too much intensity. She looked as though she were in the midst of the best day of her life, but her eyes were glassy and empty. It was an unnerving mixture of callous boredom and manic rapture.

“Gee, thanks,” Liam said, before turning to look at Millie and Katelyn. He gestured off to the side, towards the medical area. The message was clear—even if it came from him—and Millie met Katelyn’s gaze briefly before the two of them broke off to head towards the medical zone. CJ and Catherine followed, but Millie could hear Raj begin to question the robot behind her.

“So, is there a…punishment for us being late?”

“Hm? Oh, you aren’t late Initiate,” the robot answered quickly. “The test is still ongoing: fifty-six minutes and twenty-two seconds remain. Please, make yourselves comfortable and see to your needs until its conclusion.”

Millie and the others stopped, only to turn as one to stare at the chromatic servant. The rest of the group also looked at the robot in complete disbelief as CJ pulled out his phone and stared at it slack-jawed before speaking up.

“But we were gone for over an hour! We shouldn’t have that much—”

“Oh, don’t waste your time,” a nearby stranger interrupted. “For whatever reason, these stupid androids drag the explanation out every fucking time.”

Millie and the others looked over to see the source of the voice. A scrawny, gruff-looking woman, sporting ripped jeans, a blood-caked hoodie, and a nasty, freshly healed scar across her neck and face had wandered over. Their fellow survivor spoke with a strong Canadian accent and pushed loose strands of her dangling, brown hair out of her face as she addressed them.

“I’m sorry, explanation?” Raj questioned. The woman shrugged, before shooting an irritable glance over at the robot. It was still smiling.

“Oh ho, yeah. We thought maybe there was just some weird magical time difference at first, but nope. Apparently, this place just has a different way they measure time altogether and didn’t bother telling any of us. They say they thought we could all read their magical language and had left signs everywhere to explain this.”

The woman emphasized her words with wide, sweeping hand gestures. Millie could practically feel the fury radiating off of her.

“Their what—?” Catherine sputtered, looking outraged before Katelyn laid a placating hand on her shoulder.

“Did ya see all the scratch marks on everything around and about?” The woman continued. “That’s their magical language. They told us they had instructions listed out everywhere, like a big tutorial we were supposed to follow. Their test wasn’t even meant to be lethal! But their supercomputer, or whatever, wasn’t smart enough to realize we couldn’t understand any of their shit. Some of the androids here told us it’s ‘being investigated,’ but that doesn’t rightly matter now, does it? People died ‘cause we thought we were runnin’ out of time and ‘cause we didn’t know which fucking paths to take!”

The woman practically spat at the robot, before visibly restraining herself.

“The long and short of it is, they have a different measurement for time here, which is just the dumbest thing I ever heard. Someone else explained it better before, but, ah, our system is base sixty, or what have you, right? From the Babylons, I think they said? But these robot keeners told us they use a base one hundred system. For everything! So even though every second in here is a second on Earth, that they say mind you, they have one hundred seconds in their minutes and one hundred minutes in their hours. So we had almost three fucking hours to finish these bastard’s shit test!”

The woman’s fury finally boiled over. She shoved the robot, which accomplished little. It remained standing upright, smiling widely. Three hours? Millie thought. We had three hours!? And written instructions we couldn’t even read? She wanted to strangle someone.

The rest of her group were equally infuriated at the news.

“What the fuck!?” Isabella shouted, jabbing a finger at the metallic being. “Is what she said true!?”

“Her statements are mostly correct.” The robot answered. It was still smiling. “Though variations do exist with regards to the passing of days, weeks, months, seasons—”

“I fucking told you,” the other survivor interjected. “And mark me, this is probably just one of many fucking surprises that are waiting for us. I’m Rebecca, by the way. Me and my group have been trying to make the rounds, best we can. If you want to know something else, let one of us know and we’ll see what people have found. Otherwise, settle in. As you heard, we got time.”

“Unbelievable,” Millie muttered, shaking her head in disbelief before turning away. She resumed her trek towards the medical tents. Katelyn, CJ, and Catherine stayed with her, even as the rest of her group erupted into angry shouting at the robot behind her. It quickly began to blend into the background, however, especially when Millie realized a lot of people were shouting angrily. Looking around, she could also see more and more people were noticing her, whispering and pointing in her direction. I guess the pregnant girl sticks out, Millie thought. Whatever, I’m used to people staring.

Thankfully, it didn’t take Millie long to find an available robot. She paused briefly to glare at it when she noticed the red cross painted messily on its puffy doublet, but she decided to ignore that. For the sake of her sanity if nothing else.

“Hello! Are you in need of medical attention?”

The robot beamed at Millie, bright as sunshine and more bubbly than boba. Millie couldn’t help herself—she looked down at her ruined, gore-soaked dress, bruise-colored flesh, and at the dripping crimson trail left in her wake. She then slowly lifted her head and gave a deadpanned stare at the robot.

“Yes. I need medical attention.” Millie said flatly.

While a part of her really wanted to join in with the way other survivors were screaming at the robots—it wasn’t really their fault any of this was happening, right? Plus, it sounded about as cathartic as yelling at a doorknob. One that would just smile at you the whole time.

“I’d be happy to help!” The metallic being ecstatically proclaimed before gesturing to the chair next to it. It then quickly turned to look at Millie’s companions. “Do any of you require medical attention? If so, please visit the next available servitor.”

Katelyn shot Millie a nervous glance but Catherine tugged at her friend’s blouse nervously. Millie gave a nod to the tall girl, gesturing for her to go on ahead. Katelyn nodded back gratefully before letting out a deep sigh. It made her wince, but she held her side gingerly before heading off.

“Is it okay if I stick around?” CJ asked.

“Of course!” The robot said happily. But then...something changed.

Its mannerisms and gentle air disappeared in an instant. An unnatural stillness swept over it. Its smile was gone, the first time Millie had seen any of the robots change expression. It then slowly pointed one ridged arm towards the chair next to it.

“But you can not sit here. This spot is reserved.”

The robot spoke in a measured pace, enunciating its words as its once glassy eyes shined with fire. It was the first sign of life any of the robots had shown, but it looked ready to fight. Ready to kill. Ready to die, here and now, over this chair.

CJ slowly held up his hands. “What, no, I…that’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll stand. Right over here, okay?” He smiled shakily, taking several steps back. Millie shared a tense glance with CJ as they waited nervously, hoping the robot would calm down.

After a few long seconds in silence…it did. As though nothing strange had occurred, the robot straightened back up and smiled warmly once again.

“Thank you for your compliance! Initiate, designation Millie Ann McArthur, will you please take a seat?”

Millie shot CJ another worried look, but he could only shrug helplessly. Reluctantly, Millie sat down.

“Thank you for your compliance! Please wait while I ascertain the nature of your injuries.”

The robot rounded the chair, standing directly in front of Millie. Millie recoiled involuntarily as the robot leaned forward, brought its hands up, and hovered its fingers right in Millie’s face. A warm, green glow began to emanate from the digits, before spreading to completely envelop Millie. It felt kind of nice, actually, but didn’t do much to diminish the pain in Millie’s…everything, really. But after the first minute rolled by, nothing had happened.

In fact, several minutes proceeded to pass by, and Millie began to worry something was wrong. She kept glancing around anxiously, watching how the healing treatments in other camps started and finished quickly. Katelyn’s was already finished, and she and Catherine had returned, standing next to CJ. They all watched Millie, worry beginning to show on their faces. Five more minutes went by, and Millie began to fidget despite herself. She—

Jolted in fright as the robot flinched. It remained rooted to the spot but somehow seemed even stiffer than before. It then stood back up and dropped its hands so fast they blurred.

“I apologize. An anomaly has been detected with your treatment, and attempts to locate protocols for this situation have timed out. Please stand by while a medical expert is notified of your condition.”

“My condition?” Fear raced through Millie’s blood, quickening her heartbeat to a rapid pace. But Katelyn had said it wasn’t that bad, Millie thought. That a bit of medical help a-and things would be okay. Oh my god, is my baby going to be okay?

Sweat broke out across Millie’s forehead as the robot answered her.

“Diagnostics show target Millie McArthur is gestating. Standard medical treatment has been denied, per regulations enacted by the Governor. Specialized treatment is required.”

Millie blinked at the robot. Was that…all?

“Gestating? Wait, you’re freaking out because I’m pregnant? What, you guys don’t have an OB or something?”

Millie scoffed at the robot. On one hand, she was furious that it had scared the crap out of her. On the other, she was glad the thing was just flipping out because it didn’t know how to handle her pregnancy. Better that than them trying something that could hurt my son, she thought. Or me. They do have a specialist, right? That’s not going to ‘time out’ too? God, what am I going to do if they don’t?

As she brooded over the situation, Millie missed how a hush had completely covered the survivors. Even the band in the background had stopped playing. She was only clued in that something was wrong when a shadow began to cover her.

“I suppose I’m now a designated nursemaid,” a gravely, high-pitched voice said. “And I thought I couldn’t fall any further.”

Millie’s head slowly turned to face the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. Walking towards her, disdain evident six-times over in its beady eyes, was the looming figure of their new Headmaster. It stood a head taller than anyone in the room.

The former Archmagus Trieaties stopped when they were directly in front of Millie.

“Y-you? What do you wa—”

Millie’s words were cut off by a sharp, cutting gesture from the alien. She flinched, nearly tipping over in her seat, but remained unharmed. It had only meant to interrupt her—not actually cut her down.

“If you must speak with me, Initiate, you shall address me as Headmaster. Status scroll. Now.”

It addressed its command to Millie’s robot ‘physician.’ The smiling servant lifted its hands into the air, which emanated a blue light. Sparks of electricity formed and began bouncing between its digits like a Jacob’s ladder. Then, something began materializing in the air. Rapidly, piece by piece, a small rolled-up scroll appeared, hovering between its hands. When the scroll was finished forming, the robot gently caught it, before reverently handing it over to the Headmaster. The alien snatched it up with a huff and, predictably, scowled as it unfurled it.

The small scroll was almost cute in the alien’s hands. It was small, barely the size of a smartphone, and the alien’s large segmented hands—which had an extra joint in the fingers now that Millie was close enough to see them—nearly obscured it in their grasp.

“Hmph, of course. Possibility for soul rupture above acceptable parameters, so you opt to bother me rather than allocate even the slightest amount more processing power to compensate. Wonderful. Stay still, broodmother. I’ll make this quick.”

Millie wanted to protest, but the alien’s tone left little room to argue. Instead, she watched the segmented hand it raised warily before a green light appeared that—

The smell of a garden blooming. Fresh soil beneath her fingers as she planted her first tomatoes. She reached up to wipe at her brow on a warm spring day, her mother laughing at some joke her father had said off to the side. Birds sang in the air, and she breathed it in, dreaming about making a salad for Liam when the red vegetables grew. She hoped he’d like it.

—left Millie sitting there speechless. Warmth had enveloped her. It felt all-consuming at first, wrapping her up with a firm, yet nearly crushing pressure. The cocooning feeling almost made her panic, but then tendrils of energy seeped into her, and it felt like something ethereal tickled at her nerves. They touched her wounds, taking away the pain, leaving only a wondrous feeling of lightness and energy behind.

The most remarkable—and disturbing—part to Millie, however, was that the tendrils didn’t just touch her body. She felt them in her mind. Images of her father burning, the numbness that had gripped her in the trench, the guilt that clawed at her throat as she heard the wet thump of the pleated man’s body hit the beast over and over again…all became light in her mind. Touched on, energized, healed like broken bones. She remembered the events clearly, but they felt like nothing more than a bad nightmare. For the first time since everything had begun…she felt like she could breathe easily.

The tendrils finished their work, withdrawing as the comforting warmth of the blanket faded gently away. She looked up at the alien, who was still scowling above her, and she realized—

She was crying. She blinked stupidly at him, before wiping irritably at her face. It was embarrassing, but she couldn’t help it. She looked over her body in amazement. While she still had some blood on her—her dress needed to be burned—she was whole, hale, and healthy. She couldn’t help but smile when she felt her little boy kick.

“I’m healed. I’m really…its real magic.” She whispered softly. “Holy shit.”

The alien snorted in response.

“Of course you’re healed. It was a trivial task I can scarce believe I was bothered with.”

“But…what about the rupture stuff? Um, Headmaster.” She quickly added the title when she saw the glint in the alien’s eyes getting a little too disdainful. Thankfully, the title seemed to placate it. Somewhat.

“Technically speaking,” it replied, “all of you are at risk for such an injury if too much magic is performed on you. But while all of you were selected because your souls were measured as strong enough to survive until your deficiencies are addressed, you and a few other anomalies require special care.”

“Special…care? Headmaster?” It pricked at her pride to act like a little kid cowed before an adult, but the alien’s body language seemed to relax more. It crossed its arm, huffing petulantly, as it addressed her.

“Yes, I…what would be the best way to explain? Hmph. No, wait. Priorities. Yes. You there, girl.” It pointed back towards Millie’s group. Isabella and the others looked back and forth, a few spoke up, but the alien dismissed them before his true target replied.

“Me? Um…Headmaster?” Rebecca spoke, clearly mimicking what she’d seen Millie do.

“Yes, you. You and your group, specifically. I’m going to give a brief lesson and I refuse to repeat myself. Take note of my instruction and pass it on to the latecomers. Do so and your group shall receive ten resource points each as a reward.”

“Um, sure. Yes. Ah, Headmaster.”

“Wonderful. Now, the rest of you, attend.”

The alien swept its hand, gesturing to the survivors in the hall. Slowly, people began to cluster, getting close while keeping a healthy distance away. Millie couldn’t help but wonder, however. How had the Headmaster known Rebecca’s group had been distributing information? Had it been watching? Had it…done nothing as people died? Millie shuddered and tried not to think more about it. After all, the thing had laughed as it killed people—it obviously didn’t care.

Once the survivors had gathered up, and the alien was satisfied they were paying attention, it cleared its throat before beginning its impromptu lecture.

“Humans. You are all, strictly speaking, dead.” The alien pronounced. A susurration swept the survivors, a few voices beginning to raise up in a panic before the alien lifted a hand for silence.

“I meant in technical terms, you fools. Obviously, you are alive. However, as Magincia and all the known Realms would have classified it before your discovery, you are dead. You lack the primary building block necessary for the formation of life: Mana. I touched on this upon your arrival, but let’s compare this to something you should know. Think about the anatomy of your body. Your physical form is filled with organs. Meanwhile, your consciousness is compressed of a collection of ideals integral to your identity as an individual. These are all parts leading to a greater whole. An interconnected system. And just so, your soul has layers that comprise it. But, you are all missing a crucial layer.”

A hand slowly, and shakily rose in the crowd.

“So… it’s like our souls are missing an organ?” The person said.

The Headmaster turned to stare at the man. After a long, tense moment, the alien slowly closed its eyes and sighed deeply.

“Yes, ape. It’s like your souls are missing an organ. Very astute, well done.”

Whispers broke out in the crowd in response, but the alien ignored them as it continued on.

“Regardless, that part of your soul is vital to the generation and integration of mystical energies. Without it, you are severely susceptible to a number of life-threatening conditions. But as I said before, a remedy has been prepared. After you have all been assigned your quarters, you will find it waiting for you. After you imbibe it, it will take a few hours to finish its work, during which you’ll be comatose. I strongly recommend you get comfortable in preparation. But afterward, you will all be ready to start your journey as Magi.”

The Headmaster paused, stroking at its narrow face in thought, before turning to look down at Millie.

“You, however,” it said. “You will not be able to take the remedy. That is, unless you wish to destroy your spawn.”

Millie recoiled. “Destroy? You—no. What do you mean?”

“Have you not noticed the lack of children among you? Or the lack of the elderly? Souls are not static. They grow stronger or weaker with age, they—yes I see you in the crowd and yes it’s still ‘just like an organ for your soul,’ your revelation is not that profound.” The Headmaster snapped, glaring at the shrinking man in the audience, then turned back to Millie.

“Your child would die in a few hours if exposed to the atmosphere inside Magincia, and that is considering the fact that the ambient levels have already been lowered to protect you all. Under normal conditions, the spawn would have seconds, and all of you would have days to live, at best. However, your soul, broodmother, is connected to your spawn, much in the same way your body and mind are. You are its protection, its shield. If you take the remedy now, flooding your system with Mana, the influx will annihilate the embryo, snuffing its soul out like a candle.”

Millie’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t find words.

“While I am on the subject of imminent death,” the alien continued. “You there. The tall dark-skinned one. Chultian? Whatever, what is your age?”

D’marco, recoiling under the sudden and unexpected scrutiny, cast his eyes about. After the scowl on Headmaster Trieaties face began to grow larger, D’marco spoke up hurriedly.

“It’s, ah, seventeen.”

“Seventeen annos. Congratulations, Initiate, you are the youngest person aboard Magincia. Well, not accounting for the broodmother’s spawn, that is.” The crowd began to whisper fervently again, but the Headmaster continued, ignoring the din. “You will want to take the remedy immediately. I trust you have already begun to feel the symptoms?”

D’marco looked about nervously, and Millie could barely hear his sister next to him.

“What does he mean symptoms? D’marco…are you okay?”

The tall boy continued to look around, almost guiltily, before rubbing a hand across his short hair.

“I…I feel kind of achy, I guess. A headache too. Kind of feel like I’m sitting at the bottom of a pool or somethin’.”

The boy’s bravado was all but gone as he meekly confessed to his sibling. The Headmaster snorted in amusement.

“Yes, that would be the magical pressure beginning to crush you. Your soul is too young. Too weak. The Governor was unable to ascertain a consistent minimum age in which your divergent human souls would be strong enough for ascension. It could be as young as sixteen annos, or up to twenty, but it drew upon that range anyway. The consequence of a reaction-oriented process, I suppose. Regardless, while you survived the crossing, the second anomaly, a potential student of nineteen annos, perished. After that, the Governor adjusted its parameters to draw only from those over twenty and under forty to maximize eligible stock. Hence, you are the youngest here now.

“However, know that you have, perhaps, five or six days before your soul ruptures. If you take the remedy today you’ll be fine. Postpone it, and you’ll find that the longer you wait the more likely you are to suffer permanent consequences.”

The Navarro siblings stood there shocked. Terror showed brightly in D’marco’s eyes as Isabella stared at the Headmaster. She seemed torn between fear and fury as she shook on the spot holding D’marco’s hand.

“Second…anomaly?” Catherine whispered.

The Headmaster turned to glance at the pudgy girl, making her squeak. The alien then shrugged. There was an odd clicking noise from the motion, coming from underneath its robes.

“Yes, second. The first was this one, the broodmother. She’s the only one of her kind in the current pool.”

Millie trembled as she looked up to see the boney finger of the alien pointing in her face.

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked. “Will my child die if I…”

“Give birth?” The alien finished. Millie nodded numbly. “Yes. Unless you take special precautions to protect it, of course. That would be a terrible waste of resources, obviously, but nothing stops you from wasting your potential if you wish. First knows I was quick to dismiss you, broodmother, and yet…here you are.”

Millie looked up to see the alien gesturing around itself. She couldn’t bring herself to correct the Headmaster. To say how it had only been the work of others that had gotten her this far. That she hadn’t done…anything.

“Besides, it’s not like you can’t have more. And once you’ve remedied your soul’s ailment, your future spawn will have soul cores as well, eliminating this problem from your gene pool entirely. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

“How…how can you say something like that?” Millie said. She was shaking. She knew she should have probably kept being polite. Kept trying to kiss this psychopath’s ass. But she couldn’t.

And it didn’t seem to care. The Headmaster smiled at Millie.

“Broodmother…” It leaned down, its large triangular face hovering just in front of Millie’s own. “Your trials have only just begun. Keep that fire in your spirit. You’ll need it.”

Slowly, the former Archmagus stood up and began to walk away. The crowd parted to make room, but then it paused, before turning back towards Millie. It frowned, looked at the scroll still in its hand, and tapped at it. The scroll made a chiming noise.

“Here.” It said, before tossing the scroll at Millie. She fumbled to catch it, only to see it hover in the air before settling gently into her hands.

“The rest of you will find your soul scrolls in your rooms, along with your remedies. Now, that is all. Goodbye.”

The Headmaster then power-walked out of the room in a near mad dash. Millie stared at the suddenly missing shape of their Headmaster, before turning to look at the small scroll in her hand. She carefully grabbed it and tried to unfurl it, only to see it didn’t actually need to unfurl. It simply opened, and there, hovering between the handholds, was a screen.

Name: Millie Anne McArthur Rank: Initiate Title: None Job: Student Attributes [Physical] [Mental] [Spiritual] Strength [~19] Intellect [~41] Potency [#/!] Stamina [~21] Willpower [~62] Repository [#/!] Dexterity [~27] Cunning [~47] Flow [#/!] Reflexes [~45] Clarity [~40] Resonance [#/!] Attainments None Registered Spells None

“What…is all this?” Millie muttered. She looked around and directed her question to the robot near her.

“That?” It said. “That is your soul scroll. It's currently inaccurate, however and will likely fluctuate greatly. This is because your internal system hasn’t been aligned with the Magincian Paradigm yet. After you’ve taken the remedy and gone through the required Initiation Rituals, it will become much more useful. Please be patient until then, and thank you for your compliance.”

Millie couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the robot’s useless explanation, but answers weren’t forthcoming for a lot of issues it seemed. What was she going to do to protect her child? What kind of ‘preparations' would she have to make? Could she get her child out of this hellhole? Would she have to…

She swallowed hard. She refused to entertain the notion that she would do anything other than give birth and raise her child. If not for love, then in spite of the damned city that had stolen their lives away. That had hurt her family.

That had made her feel so powerless.

Eventually, Millie stood up and rejoined her group.

The rest of the Magincian hour, or M-hour as people were taking to calling it, went by quickly as Millie discussed the odd scroll with the others. Obviously, no one had any solid answers other than ‘seems kind of videogame-like?’ and their debates eventually fell quiet. Millie wasn’t enthusiastic about talking with Raj or Liam anyway, and the Navarro siblings were distracted. Isabella wouldn’t let go of her brother’s arm, even when they made their way to the ‘refreshments’ area. It was filled with things that looked like regular Earth food, but with strange variations.

Like a pizza made with beet sauce, shredded cabbage, and…bugs. Live bugs. No one touched that one—it made pineapple pizza seem like a divine gift from the gods.

Eventually, the timer came to an end. Headmaster Trieaties reappeared, walking out to the central stage to give a congratulatory speech. It was, of course, filled with repetitive scowls and frequent reminders of everyone’s complete incompetence and shortcomings. However, the Headmaster did inform them all of the relative expectations for the near future.

Their first school term would last for a full Magincia year, which was a period of one hundred Magincia days. Each day on Magincia was comprised of an ascending and descending cycle, day and night, that lasted ten Magincian hours each. Meaning, every day was over fifty-five Earth hours long. No one was pleased to hear this, but the Headmaster informed the crowd that time within each portion of the daily cycles would be set aside to suit their biological rhythms. Many complained about this, some even going so far as to demand that they get to use the Gregorian calendar instead.

Headmaster Trieaties, however, made it clear in no uncertain terms that the survivors would be adapting to Magincian cultural norms, not the other way around. And their coming term, these one hundred Magincian days, would last for the next two hundred and thirty-two Earth days.

Figuring out these details was a nightmare. Math was not Millie’s strong suit. The warm comforting feeling that had been buzzing in her veins after her healing gave way to an ever-worsening migraine as a result. But before their Headmaster sent them off, he left them with one final announcement.

“As you leave, you will be assigned your classes: the group of individuals you shall be sharing space with and cooperating alongside in future terms. You will be grouped with those you completed the test with, however class sizes are not to surpass ten. Some divisions or consolidations may occur.

“Otherwise, for the next ten days, you will be able to enjoy the week of Hospitality, after which the term shall begin. During our Hospitality week, most services will remain closed until the term start. Even so, you are encouraged to explore and familiarize yourself with the school grounds, and to research the challenges and curriculum of the coming term. I strongly recommend you do so. Conviction, Wisdom, and Ambition are rewarded, while complacency...is not. Risk that at your peril. I am done now. Goodbye.”

The Headmaster quickly vacated the amphitheater as white portals reformed along the wall behind them. Millie turned to look at her group, the people she realized she might spend the rest of her life with, and sighed. Some of them were fine. Better than fine, really. She loved CJ, and she would never forget the incredible kindness Katelyn had shown her. She could even learn to…tolerate Catherine, or at least learn why she struggled to connect with the pudgy girl. Plus the Navarro siblings were okay if hot-headed, and Braylon seemed nice.

But Tanya? Or Raj, who had killed a man?

Liam?

She groaned as she laid her head in her hands. She tried to come to terms with her new reality, but...in the end, she settled on not crying.