The Student Enrichment Market, home to the pill counters and immobile robots, was busier than when they had left it earlier. The solitary sales-bot was bouncing between groups of students, some of which tried to talk to the unmoving clerks, only to be ignored. Frustrated, they would turn away, only to be approached again by the single working robot who attempted to alleviate their irritation.

As Millie watched, CJ standing excitedly to her side, the odd behavior felt even more apparent. She did notice, however, several students examining the display cases closely, with one group in particular off to the side in a huddle as they talked. She had the sneaking suspicion that she and CJ weren’t the only ones who had caught on to the secret Conditions of the stores. His ‘hidden quests’ as he put it, she thought wryly.

“Okay,” CJ said, “where do we start?”

Millie glanced over to him, before looking back towards the market. “Well, lets go over what we know first. What were the conditions to the other two stores?”

CJ smiled. “The first potion to the first student, and then a glimpse of fortune for the least fortunate. If that pattern holds, we should be looking for some sort of correlation to draw on.”

“Maybe,” Millie said, frowning. “Keep in mind they let students take their pick of pills from the display. That literally could be all there is to it.”

CJ glanced at her. “Another first come first serve? I mean, sure, that could be it, but like you said earlier—that doesn’t explain their weird behavior. Name one robot that ignores people that we’ve seen.”

“True,” Millie said, nodding in agreement. “Okay, what are our clues? Robots aren’t talking to people is one.”

“Maybe the greeter’s opening line? Any pill on display?”

Listening closer, Millie could hear the sales-bot in the distance, repeating those very words to a new student who’d arrived.

“Possibly,” Millie agreed. “But I’m not sure if its implying there’s a hidden display, or if what’s on display is our clue.”

CJ hummed thoughtfully, before walking forward to begin examining one of the cases. Millie followed him, glancing around as she noticed several students watching them. She was used to sticking out, but the huddled group nearby was looking at them a little too intently. They definitely know somethings up, she concluded.

Looking up, however, she noticed the immobile clerk watching her closely. Its wide smile was frozen on its face, but its eyes bore into Millie. Waiting. Expecting.

But what does she want? Millie thought, biting at her lip in consternation.

“Hmmm, do you see anything in the case, Millie?” CJ asked, standing to her side after finishing his quick scan of the display.

Millie cast her eyes down and swept her gaze across the pills that remained. This particular case seemed to be home to a few tier-three and tier-two pills scattered among regular tier-ones. While there was a pattern to the layout, often having the lesser pills set in a circular spread surrounding the more potent ones, she didn’t see anything noteworthy there.

Placing her head against the glass, she looked to the sides, seeing mirrors on either end, much like many jewelry cases back home would’ve had. They helped give the illusion of a larger space and highlight the contents to make them more appealing. However, the reflection matched the contents of the display and there was nothing amiss. After another minute of looking, she eventually shook her head.

“No, sorry,” she said. “No runes, no First Language, nothing. Just typical displays.”

CJ crossed his arms, frowning. Looking back up, Millie saw that the clerk’s eyes now looked bored. Whatever excitement she may have had at their arrival was completely gone, and she seemed to barely acknowledge their presence. Millie narrowed her eyes as she gazed into the robot’s glassy orbs.

I don’t think this is it, she concluded. This is the wrong way to go about looking for the hidden quest.

Millie mulled over her thoughts before a glance from CJ stole her attention. “Hey,” he said, “any thoughts on the matter? What should we look for?”

She met his eyes, before turning away. She continued to chew on her lip as she pondered. Eventually, she looked back up.

“I don’t think the answer is something we’ll find lying around. If it was, one of the others would have gotten it by now.”

“One of the others?” CJ repeated.

Millie cast her gaze to the side and motioned with her head. CJ followed her gesture, seeing the huddled group nearby. They were still watching them intently, whispering amongst themselves.

“Oh, well that’s great,” CJ muttered. “So I guess we’ll have to come back later and hope no one takes the prize?”

Millie looked at her friend and could see a glimpse of genuine bitterness breaking through. She fought off a frown as she realized that he’d probably been pushing himself to stay upbeat and positive for her sake. Combined with the stress and the fear they were all under, it made sense to her now why he’d fixated so hard on finding something here. It wasn’t just a desire for a shiny new gift—it was probably a way to feel in control of the situation.

And it felt like we were so close too, she thought. Having to walk away from this now...

Meanwhile, she noticed the group of students finally turn away from them. They must’ve concluded that Millie and CJ were as clueless as they were and dismissed them.

Millie grit her teeth. “No, just…give me a minute. There has to be something.”

Now who’s fixating? She chided herself. But this was her chance to repay CJ for all his kindness and support, among other things. As such, she wasn’t willing to walk away without trying her best. Besides, only those who’ve taken the remedy can read the books in the Archive, she thought. I’m not sure how long that takes, but I’m pretty sure we have time to solve this. We might not later.

Focusing on the task at hand, Millie looked beyond the displays. There were shelves and storage chests located behind the glass, but they were all closed and sealed. The path running through the bazaar was circular, looping around with the counters alternating on either side of the path.

It left many ways for people to come and go and also invited a shopper to walk endlessly between the displays, reinforcing Millie’s first impression of the area feeling like a cosmetics store one would find in a mall. Experimentally, Millie attempted to step behind one of the counters, but the solitary guide-bot nearby immediately interposed herself and reprimanded Millie. She put it in no uncertain terms that working areas were off-limits for students.

Millie’s cheeks burned in embarrassment at being called out, and the group watching her snickered. But she didn’t let that stop her. She continued to walk along the path, doing loops of the market, CJ staying with her the whole way. Her determination had rekindled his own, and his exuberance had returned along with his goofy smile. If for nothing else, Millie was grateful for that.

However, nearly an hour passed without progress as they scoured every inch of the cases. Eventually, the two of them left the market and sat down on a bench nearby. As they rested Millie, continued to stare at the displays.

Finally, CJ cleared his throat. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Thanks for trying, okay? But we should probably head back soon and get some food. I don’t know how long the remedy will take, but afterward, we can go to the Archive. Even if this doesn’t pan out, there are probably other options, right?”

Millie sighed in annoyance. “Yeah. I’m sorry, CJ.”

Her friend wrapped his arm around her and hugged her tightly. “Hey, not your fault they put a stupid puzzle here. Besides, if it was easy, someone else would’ve solved it already.”

He laughed, and Millie couldn’t help but give a small smile in return. He wasn’t wrong. But she’d really wanted to accomplish something here.

She leaned back, letting out an exasperated breath as she rested her head against CJ's shoulder. Staring blankly at a banner hanging on one of the walls—with the words 'Conviction, Wisdom, Ambition' painted on it like a school spirit poster—her mind slowly ran in circles wondering how she was going to help CJ going forward. Her eyes kept wandering like her thoughts, as she gazed at the ceiling above, which was covered in a beautiful series of stained glass murals.

She couldn’t read the First Language without taking the remedy, so she would be useless in the Archives. As such, trying to find a hidden quest here hadn’t just been about helping CJ—which would have been more than enough reason to try regardless—it had also been about getting proof. Proof that there were hidden quests, and that the potion and tarot shops weren’t just flukes. With it, she could convince the rest of her classmates to help her in the Archives.

Of course, that’s assuming there are clues in the Archives about these store’s Conditions, she reminded herself. But…one big gift is a fluke, two is a coincidence. I can’t believe that the other stores wouldn’t have something. And if that information isn’t in the Archive, then where would it be?

The only alternative she could think of was that the rewards had been completely left to chance. But that seemed ridiculous. While her vision’s memories didn’t cover her current situation, she had the distinct impression that Magincia was more deliberate with its choices than that.

But of course, the true reason she wanted her classmates’ help in the Archives was simple. She needed someone to research a way to save her child in her stead. Many hands made for light work, and offering the others the incentive that the Archives would be home to clues towards secret loot? Surely they’d be willing to spare a bit of time to help her in return.

Without proof, however, that hidden quests actually existed, she didn’t have anything to offer. Other than relying on their goodwill and sharing what meager magical knowledge she had.

CJ would probably say that alone is enough, she thought. But he doesn’t understand. The knowledge she could offer them was the equivalent of an afternoon’s study session. The runes and formations she’d learned in the visions weren’t something she could share, no matter how much she’d want to—without magic she couldn’t write in the First Language.

Besides, they’d also have to devote time and effort to studying the information. They’d find more informative options for that in the Archives if that’s what they wanted to do. The only reason to prioritize searching for clues about hidden quests would be the potential rewards they could gain. But could she honestly ask them to keep giving up their time and energy to help her? She didn’t want the entire reason for her classmates to work together to be because of her child. She wanted there to be more than her begging for help. She didn’t want to be a burden—she wanted something to offer.

Absently, her eyes traced the mural of the glass ceiling. It was broken into four sections, with a series of lights scattered about accenting scenes of Magi performing great and wondrous deeds. It reminded her of the ceiling above the amphitheater. As she took in the details, however, she noticed something odd about the lights. She frowned as she counted their number.

CJ noticed her sudden consternation and nudged her. “You alright?” He asked.

Millie opened her mouth to respond, before pausing. Eventually, she turned to meet his eyes. “There’s twelve lights above the market,” she said.

CJ looked up at the ceiling, and then back to her and smiled. “Yeah? Oh—do you think that two of them might mean something since it isn’t ten?”

Millie shook her head. “No, that’s not it. Twelve among four that’s…” She paused, before sitting up. She counted off her fingers as a few ideas ran through her head.

“What is it?” CJ asked, excitement starting to build once more.

“Magincia loves to put things in ten, yes,” she said. “That’s all based on Arcanum and such. But magic exists in many forms. It’s like…like different kinds of kung fu, you know? The magic Magincia teaches is like mixed martial arts. It’s the best of everything thrown together in a pot.”

CJ raised an eyebrow. “Ah, okay?” He laughed, confused by her sudden tangent.

“Well, one of those ‘arts’ is…Alchemy,” Millie said, before gesturing back towards the displays.

CJ followed her hand, before looking back at her. “Oh, duh!” He said, smacking himself on the forehead. “Of course these pills would be made with Alchemy. Man, that’s really Xianxia of them though.”

Millie frowned. “Yeah, we’ll pretend I know what means and just move on.”

“It’s like Chinese mythology,” CJ said, laughing. “They make pills that make you stronger in them, and it’s all about the quest for immortality. But…why are we talking about this now?”

Millie pointed up towards the mural. “The picture up there? I’m pretty sure they’re depicting the twelve processes of Alchemy and its fours stages.”

CJ looked back at the ceiling. “Do you think that’s the clue then? To tell students to go look up Alchemy and come back?”

Millie paused. “Ah, actually I hadn’t thought of that, but yeah that’s a possibility. You’d probably be able to find a book with a similar cover or something. I don’t actually know, my vision’s memories didn’t show me the Archives.”

CJ cocked his head. “Then what makes it special?”

Millie grinned. “How many clerks do you see? Not counting the sales-bot, obviously.”

CJ turned and counted. Then, his eyes widened.

“Shit, there’s twelve of them,” he gasped. “Wait, see the way they’re spread out? The mural has the same circular design as the market’s layout.”

Millie’s grin froze on her face. She hadn’t noticed that part, but it was sweet of CJ to think she had. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Ah, yeah, so I think the correlation might be in the twelve processes of Alchemy and the clerks.”

“Hmmm,” CJ said, tapping a finger against his chin. “But how do they relate?”

The two sat in silence for a while, thinking. Watching the market, she saw the sales-bot bustling about, continuing to help students. The huddled group was still nearby, conspiring not unlike Millie and CJ, but many others had come and gone over the last hour.

What stood out to Millie, however, was a moment where the solitary guide-bot stepped behind a counter. She had done the same thing for Millie and CJ, and just like before, Millie noticed that the clerk behind the glass looked annoyed when it had to move.

Millie snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”

“What? What did you see?” CJ asked.

“All the robots are standing still, under the lights, right? But they look pissy when the sales-bot makes them move.”

CJ laughed, “I mean I would too if she was shoving me around.”

“Well, yeah,” Millie agreed, “I thought so too earlier, but if their position is important, then that could be our clue. Where they’re standing is part of the puzzle.”

CJ nodded along as he caught on to Millie’s train of thought. “Okay, so they have to stand in a very specific position. That’s why they aren’t helping any of the students? But does that mean we have to get them to move a certain way or what?”

Millie shook her head. “I don’t know. Let’s start by examining them all again, maybe we’ll find a clue that way?”

CJ grinned, before standing up to offer her a hand.

The duo walked among the displays once more. This time, however, Millie and CJ completely ignored the contents of the glass cases and focused specifically on the placement of the clerks standing by silently. The first clerk that Millie approached looked bored, like all the rest, but as Millie stood on her tippy toes to look towards where the robot stood, she saw something interesting. The robot’s eyes glittered. A faint bit of amusement showed through as it watched Millie intently.

She took that as a good sign. Looking up at the mural, and back towards the robot, she quickly made her way from display to display, CJ by her side. She noticed, however, the huddled group was actively glaring at her this time. The way they periodically glanced up at the ceiling gave Millie the impression that she also wasn’t the first to notice this particular clue either. That almost discouraged her, but she ignored the feeling and focused on continuing her investigation.

Eventually, it bore fruit.

“This one,” CJ said, pointing at the counter before him. It was one of the two closest to the entrance portal located in front of the market. Millie frowned at that but turned away to double-check CJ’s findings.

Looking up at the light, and back to the display, she quickly found herself in agreement.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “The clerks standing, what, six inches off-center?”

CJ was nodding in agreement but paused when he noticed her quiet voice and gave her a questioning look. Once more, Millie gestured quietly towards the group of students watching them, and CJ grimaced.

“Great,” he whispered back. “Love the audience. So, what do you think this means?”

“If I had to guess?” Millie said quietly, chewing on her lip. “Starting point for the puzzle. Has to be, given how close it is to the entrance portal.”

CJ glanced over at the portal. “Oh, that’s kind of obvious now, isn’t it?” He chucked “But the question now is, how do we start it?”

Millie sighed. “It won’t be something obvious. The others here would’ve gotten it.”

“You think it might be related to…” CJ leaned down close and whispered in Millie’s ear. “Alchemy?”

She nodded. It was the only thing that made sense to her. The clerk’s eyes lit up as well at the word ‘Alchemy,’ despite CJ’s barely audible tone. Millie felt that couldn’t be a coincidence.

But what do we do to trigger…whatever it is that can happen? She pondered silently, CJ standing next to her doing much the same. Briefly, she was distracted by the sound of one of the huddled students laughing, and as she looked back she saw it was at her expense. One of the girls of their number had unbuttoned the lower part of her jacket and was mimicking the waddle Millie was forced to perform.

Millie grit her teeth, however, and turned away. Why do I feel like this place is going to be like High School all over? Though, if she were being honest, if this was actually high school, she’d probably have waltzed up to the girl and started a confrontation. There was a reason CJ had once told her that her spirit animal was undoubtedly a honey badger after all.

She dismissed the thought, however, and refocused on the task at hand. Her clues were simple: the number of clerks corresponded with the number of processes of Alchemy, and this one was notably off-center, giving students a subtle indication of where to start. A part of her felt that a sign or a rune of some sort might have been more appropriate than standing in the wrong spot, but it would have probably been too blatant.

Unless her being off-center is part of the start, she thought. Narrowing her eyes, she cleared her throat and prepared what she figured was probably the dumbest solution possible. But sometimes simple solutions were the best.

“Hi, excuse me,” Millie said, using her own customer service voice, “we’re looking to start an Alchemical process. Would you be able to help?”

The robot’s head turned to look directly at her. Other than eye movements, it was the first sign of life any clerk had shown. Millie suppressed a grin when she noticed the group of students behind her go deathly silent.

However, the robot didn’t say anything. But it did stare at Millie with a frightening intensity. Almost…desperate.

Millie cleared her throat and tried again. Something even simpler this time, then? Though the idea that no one had tried this seemed absurd. Then again, she thought, maybe it hadn’t listened to anyone because it hadn’t been engaged properly?

“Um, would you mind, maybe, scooching over a bit? Just like six inches to your left? Please?”

The robot practically vibrated with intensity at her request. Gingerly, it moved one leg over and repositioned itself.

“HELLO!” It shouted, so loud that Millie and CJ backed up involuntarily. It was very enthusiastic.

The clerk cleared her throat, before chuckling. “Hehe, sorry. Um, so you’d like to begin the Alchemical process? Which process can I help you with today?”

The clerk’s smile and bright eyes were so damn intense that Millie was afraid it was going to have an aneurysm, it was also gesturing wildly, as though giddy with its sudden freedom. Meanwhile, the huddled students nearby began to angrily argue amongst themselves as CJ grabbed Millie’s arm, nearly as excited as the robot.

“Ah, we need…” Millie began, before pausing. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! What are the fucking processes again?

Alchemy was not her strong suit. Her vision’s memories covered it, but only as far as she would’ve learned it. And unfortunately, that wasn’t much.

Still, she closed her eyes and chewed on her lip before shaking her fist slowly. Running through the options, she eventually sputtered out, “Ah, can you remind me what they are?”

It was a gamble and one that didn’t pay off. The clerk’s smile wavered. Her eyes filled with worry, before darting to the side. Following her gaze, Millie saw the lone sales-bot had approached.

“I apologize, Initiate, but that knowledge can only be found in the Archives.”

“Great…” Millie mumbled. Another dead end, but this time born of her own bad memory.

“However…” the robot said. It paused to share a long glance with the clerk, who seemed to be begging the sales-bot with its eyes, before letting out a sigh. It then pulled out a collection of cards. “I can give you a study aide. If you can tell me the four stages of Alchemy.”

Millie raised an eyebrow. Was it…helping her? Or was this a larger part of the puzzle?

“Come on, Millie,” CJ gently prodded. His excitement verged on desperation, his eyes distressing similar to the display clerk.

“Okay, okay, let me think,” She said, before snapping her fingers. “Wait, I got one. Because fuck the Rune of Fire!”

Millie’s loud declaration was met by confused stares. She cleared her throat and ignored them.

“Ah, the first stage is Nigredo, the blackening.”

The robot’s smile widened, looking legitimately genuine as her eyes twinkled. She lowered her head in acknowledgment but waited for Millie to continue.

“Okay…okay…what are the other ones,” she mumbled. Come on brain, it’s literally just four words. Come on!

CJ gasped, however, and Millie looked at him worryingly, only to see a smile cross his face.

“Are two of them also Albedo and Rubedo?”

Once more the sales-bot nodded. Though the clerk nearby was vibrating with such palpable excitement Millie feared it might be ready to explode. That aside, however, Millie was confused as hell that CJ knew that.

She lightly smacked him on the arm. “I thought you said you didn’t get any information out of your vision? What gives?”

CJ rubbed at his head, laughing sheepishly. “I, ah, that wasn’t from the Fortune-Teller. Nigredo, Albedo, and Rubedo are the names of some, ah, characters from an anime I really like.”

Millie looked at him dumbfounded. Here she was scouring her brain for the barest scraps of information from some divination-granted vision, and he just knew that from a cartoon show? How overpowered were nerds!?

“Okay, fine,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t suppose you’ve got the last one though?”

CJ looked away abashed. “Sorry. The Overlord anime only had the three.”

Overlord? She thought. Whatever what’s the last one then?

“Let’s see,” she mumbled. “There’s the blackening, that’s Nigredo. Then the whitening, that’s…ah, Albedo, ‘cause it sounds like albino. Rubedo is definitely the reddening. The last one is…the yellowing!”

She snapped her fingers again. The robot, sadly, continued to look at her expectantly. She’d obviously need to give it the full name.

“Fuck,” Millie whispered. “Okay…okay…what does it start with. Maybe something with a Y for yellow? Wait, no, Nigredo means blackening, so that doesn’t mean anything. This isn’t English, Millie, come on.”

Millie began to pace as she mumbled to herself. “Yellowing. Yellowing. What would it be…it’s…a….C? Like cinnabar?”

She stopped pacing, only to frown. “No, that’s an ingredient, not a stage. Fuck…”

Millie started walking again. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the market on her, which did nothing for her nerves. She was so close, but the answer danced on her tongue. But she could barely recall the four stages of Alchemy. She knew they were related to the ‘great working,’ or Magnum Opus, but she’d never actively practiced any of it outside of learning of it in class. Well, not actually learning, she supposed. She tried not to dwell on the fact that the ‘memories’ she was scouring now were merely illusions planted in her mind.

“Cin…something? Cit, maybe? Cis, cik, Cinnamon, centrifuge, cilium, wait that’s closer. Ci…ci…cil…cil something…cil…cila…cilantro!” Millie shouted, pointing at the robot triumphantly.

A second later though, she realized what she’d said and blanched as she watched the sales-bot lose its smile. It stared at Millie, its eyes bulging out of its chrome skull and Millie was terrified that she’d just somehow managed to insult the thing. She was wrong, however.

A heartbeat later and the robot laughed, bending over and nearly toppling to the ground. Its belly rumbling guffaw had it wheezing as it gripped its metallic stomach and bellowed its mirth. Its clear, high-pitched ringing laughter echoed throughout the Market and beyond. Millie was pretty sure the entire Academy could hear it. Millie’s blush grew deeper, made worse by the shaking robots behind the counters struggling to stay composed as well. She crossed her arms and fell silent, waiting for the humiliation to be over.

It took an uncomfortable amount of time for the robot to calm down, but eventually, it straightened itself up and wiped tears away from its eyes. At least I learned robots can cry today, Millie thought. Yay me.

“Aha…ah…um, my deepest apologies, Mistress Magus, but ah, we don’t offer p-produce at our establishment,” the robot had to bite its lip to keep from laughing further. “I can understand the confusion, however. We do try to make our products appealing, and herbs are an excellent source material.”

It gestured towards the counter, and as Millie looked around she could see the triumphant sneers on the faces of the students huddled nearby. Other students in the area looked confused, with only a few of them seeming to understand that Millie was the butt-end of a joke. She grit her teeth and ignored them all. Again.

“How much for a tier-one intelligence pill again?” Millie asked.

CJ tugged on her uniform. He had managed to stay composed, for which Millie was grateful.

“Millie, you don’t have to buy something for this. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not,” Millie replied. “Besides, didn’t the Fortune-Teller suggest I invest in my mental attributes? Why not start here.”

CJ pursed his lips, but unexpectedly the sales-bot interjected.

“Your fellow Initiate is correct to caution you, Miss. I see that you haven’t been remedied yet—if you take an Attribute booster now you may not receive the full benefit you paid for.”

“How so?” Millie asked.

“Until your Attributes are properly aligned, which takes a small but freely available ritual after you’ve been awakened to magic, they will fluctuate naturally. Every Attribute you see in your Soul Scroll is an amalgam of every possible aspect of yourself related to that Attribute. The number currently listed is the average of all those smaller aspects. After you’ve been aligned, every smaller aspect will be equalized and the number will truly be accurate.”

Millie grimaced. “So…if I take a pill now, you’re saying it may not apply evenly?”

“Correct,” the robot said, nodding. “In addition, depending on how long you wait to align your Attributes, you may see a loss of numbers. Preventing the degrading of your Attributes is one of the primary reasons Magi choose to align themselves.”

Millie recalled how the numbers could fluctuate, but curiosity tugged at her.

“Is there any reason a Magi wouldn’t align their stats?” She asked.

The sales-bot shrugged helplessly. “Magi may have many reasons to do many things. However, that would be pedantic of me to answer as such.” She smiled, once again genuinely. “In all honesty, most Initiates who choose not to align their Attributes do as much so they may train them. The moment you align your Attributes, the only way to boost them will be through magic.”

A susurration exploded out around them as the students nearby heard the news. But the sales-bot raised its arms as it addressed the crowd.

“Do keep in mind, Initiates, that your training—no matter how intense, will never raise you above your natural limits. The Attribute alignment system and our boosters can. Please be wise in your choice of time expenditure.”

The crowd continued to talk on in the background, and CJ poked at Millie’s shoulder.

“Time expenditure? Do you know what she means?”

Millie leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure she just means whether you spend time training or doing expeditions. I don’t know what’s going to be better, but we can’t train ourselves forever, especially if our stats degrade naturally, you know?”

Her friend nodded in agreement, and Millie turned back to the robot.

“Um, thank you,” Millie said. “I think I’d still like an intelligence booster though. Something to help with my memory.”

The robot nodded, before ushering them to follow her. “You’ll be wanting a Clarity booster then. Do you know what size you’d like and how much you’d like to purchase?”

Millie hemmed and hawed, before pausing. “Didn’t you say earlier you offer…bulk discounts?”

The sales-bot nodded happily. “We do! I can offer you a dozen tier-one regular pills for one hundred resources. Are you interested?”

Millie cocked her head. “Isn’t that basically the same price as two greaters?”

“It is,” the robot admitted, “however, do keep in mind the limits to how far a greater booster can take you, and that bulk discounts aren’t always available.”

“Right…” Millie mumbled. “Um, wait, just to be clear—this won’t hurt my baby if I take any of this stuff, right?”

The metallic girl paused, her eyes flashing as she calculated something in the background. Finally, she shook her head. “There is a chance of increased toxicity in your system or a partial effect of the booster on the fetus in the case of mental accelerators. However, the amount of Mana within the tier-one boosters is negligible, thus any fallout from ingesting the pill can be addressed by myself or any available servitor.”

Millie raised an eyebrow at that. “So…the only lasting consequence is that my baby might also benefit too?”

The robot nodded.

Huh, Millie thought. Beats Mozart, I guess? She then took out her Soul Scroll and double-checked her stats.

Name: Millie Anne McArthur Rank: Initiate Title: None Job: Student Attributes [Physical] [Mental] [Spiritual] Strength [~19] Intellect [~40] Potency [#/!] Stamina [~19] Willpower [~59] Repository [#/!] Dexterity [~26] Cunning [~47] Flow [#/!] Reflexes [~43] Clarity [~40] Resonance [#/!] Attainments None Registered Spells [#/!] Frost Bolt [#/!]

Huh, I actually know Frost Bolt then? She thought. It kind of looks like it’s glitching out though.

She decided to put that aside for now and turned her attention to her Attributes. Okay, I can get a greater one for Clarity and it’ll stay below fifty, she thought, before looking back up at the servitor.

“So, what happens if you take a greater pill and it takes you past the fifty mark?”

“Once it passes the threshold, its effects are halved, but it will work all the way up to that point.”

Millie nodded and ran through the numbers. If she purchased a greater booster to her clarity, she’d be up to 46. Another would put her to 51 after the halving. If she got the bulk dozen, that would get her past 60. But that would set her back a full two hundred resource points—nearly half her starting amount.

And I was desperate for each RP in my vision, she reminded herself. Was this really a good decision to make?

“Millie,” CJ said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know how fast this stuff might degrade over time. Please don’t go too hard on this, okay?”

She looked up into his pleading eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I was kind of thinking something similar. But I’ve got to try something, CJ. I don’t want to be…”

She trailed off.

“Millie,” he said again, “look, I know you feel inadequate sometimes, but you aren’t stupid, okay? You don’t have to buy this stuff. Forties are average for Attributes anyway, remember?”

She hesitated, before shaking her head. “Yeah, but if I don’t remember this now we may lose our chance at this hidden quest thing. I don’t want my fuck up to be the reason we miss out, okay?”

CJ sighed, but let her go. She truly did appreciate him being supportive and looking out for her. But it was one word. One. If she could remember it, they’d—well, she didn’t know exactly what would happen, but she wanted to find out.

She asked the sales-bot a few final questions, trying to gauge the speed in which Attributes dropped over time, but she didn’t get anything conclusive. The best comparison she received was that of Strength—it fell as fast as it took for your muscles to break down over time. The higher the stat—aka the bigger your muscles—the faster it degraded unless actively maintained. She also learned that once they were aligned, Attributes had less of an impact on one’s appearance. The only way Millie would gain muscle mass in response to the pills is if she took them before becoming aligned, or purchased magical items specifically designed for augmenting one’s appearance.

Now, as appealing as becoming a muscle-bound clone of Raj might’ve been, Millie dismissed the idea. She decided to hold back a little as well, purchasing just a single greater pill and the bulk set, spending 150 resources rather than the full 200 she’d first considered. With them, she now had enough magical drugs to increase her mental clarity to 58. She was slightly tempted to get two more pills and bring it to an even 60, but she held herself back. She wasn’t actually guaranteed for it to reach 58 anyway, given the unpredictability in her unaligned stats.

CJ was kind enough to run to a terminal and bring Millie some water. Then, in front of the robots and all the other students, she took the pills. The greater came first, nearly killing her with just how damn huge it was, but then one after another, she chugged them all. It felt like she swallowed a liter of water in the process as well.

Eventually, when she finished, CJ asked her anxiously, “Well, how do you feel?”

She looked at him blankly, before pulling out her Soul Scroll. She didn’t feel any different, but the difference would show—

“41? I just swallowed thirteen pills and the stat went up once!?”

She turned and glared at the robot. The metal girl lifted her hands placatingly.

“I apologize, Initiate,” she said. “But it can take some time for the pills to work through your system. You should start seeing some effects here shortly, but the majority of the augmentation will take place over the next hour.”

Millie rolled her eyes, before groaning in frustration. “No helping it then. Guess we wait here until I remember the fourth process.”

The robot looked at her, bemused, but said nothing further. It also…ignored all the other students who approached to talk to it. Unfortunately, that meant quite a few grew angry, and Millie got several glares and accusations for ‘hogging the robots,’ but she wasn’t budging. She was going to remember and she was going to get CJ his damn hidden quest.

A few minutes passed, and she checked her Soul Scroll again. Clarity hadn’t changed, but her Willpower had increased by one, causing her to smirk.

“Any luck?” CJ asked.

Millie shook her head. “No, not yet. Nigredo, Albedo, Rubedo, Cilantro…” She laughed lightly as she said it, eliciting a small giggle from the robot nearby. Absently, she looked over the displays and thought once about how much they resembled jewelry cases.

“Jewelry…” she mumbled.

“What?” CJ prompted.

Millie shrugged. “Nothing, just thinking about…ci…citrine?” She whispered.

The robot jerked but didn’t say anything. It stared at Millie expectantly, as did CJ.

“No, not citrine. That’s a gemstone. But its…similar. Yeah. The words just like it. Its…citrine…cintrina…Citrinitas!”

Millie shouted and the robot cheered wildly with her.

“Yes! Congratulations Initiate!”

Millie hugged CJ tightly, the scrawny boy trembling with excitement. Meanwhile, all the students nearby had erupted into loud conversations, the group in the corner sounding particularly nasty.

“Well? What do we win?” Millie said breathlessly.

“Oh, you’ll just love this!” The sales-bot said with a wink. “Here!”

She handed them a collection of cards, and on them, Millie read…

“Calcination, Solution, Separation, Conjunction…wait, these are all the processes?”

“Yes!” The robot said, clapping its hands. It then pulled out additional sets of cards and began handing them out to nearby students. “And the first students who can correctly allocate their order to the corresponding clerks correctly will receive a special prize—to the first to find Refinement, Refinement shall be awarded!”

Millie blanched as she remembered, with growing Clarity, how the servitor had only offered them study cards. The real test had only just begun.