Millie stared angrily at the servitor. She’d thought it had seemed suspicious that it had suddenly wanted to help her, but she hadn’t thought revealing the ‘hidden quest’ would prompt it to hand it out to everyone present as well. Now she would have to directly compete with over a dozen other students. Not that it’ll probably matter, she thought darkly.

A quick glance around the winding displays confirmed those numbers, at least. Most students were grouped into small pairs, like her and CJ. But there were also two larger groups, one of which was the huddled group of four that had watched her with mocking scrutiny. Even now they were staring, but Millie looked away.

“So…” CJ whispered, “I don’t suppose you remember the order, huh?”

Millie glanced back at him, before gritting her teeth. Nothing was coming to her mind. Nothing. Dejectedly, she slowly shook her head as she absently fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist. The ‘glamoured bracer,’ that both she and CJ had received as ‘gifts’ from another store, felt about as useful as she was in the moment.

“Well,” he said, “maybe if we wait long enough for the rest of your pills to take effect, you’ll remember?”

His warm smile was accompanied by an arm over her shoulder. She wrapped her own around his waist and sighed.

“I…don’t think it will,” she confessed. Her mind remained distressingly blank. At least the Alchemical stages had been on the tip of her tongue. Was her memory really this bad?

CJ cocked his head curiously. “Why not?”

He said it with a chuckle. He was clearly trying to keep up an air of levity. She appreciated that, but couldn’t help but feel her guts clench knowing she was about to let him down. He didn’t understand and she wasn’t sure how to explain. It was like her future self just hadn’t studied this at all. She was getting nothing from her vision’s memories. But she swore she should’ve known this. It didn’t make sense.

Eventually, Millie sighed again. “Because, they…ugh, where do I even begin.”

She muttered, before finding an easy distraction in the form of the commotion ongoing around them. As could only be expected, a general panic had ensued among the other students who were trying to understand this supposedly ‘random’ test they’d just been assigned. One male student, in particular, walked up to a clerk to demand answers. Surprisingly, the previously mute display attendant answered.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t helpful.

“Exaltation is the process of connecting with the higher planes,” the high-pitched, steady voice of the robot proclaimed, pointing to the nearest card the student had accidentally presented on the counter. “It’s the infusion of spiritual energy into the material, usually through the application of uplifting energies and emotions. Can I help you with another process?”

The student at the counter looked down at his study cards and groaned.

Looking away, Millie could see the same scene playing out across the market. Each of the clerks was willing to give short, brief answers as to the nature of the processes, but none of them deviated from their scripts. They left little in the way of clues.

Eventually, one of the students took a gamble. He was from the second largest group and decided to offer one of the clerks a card. She looked at it, then back at him, and asked if he was sure. After he confirmed his decision, the metal girl quietly accepted it but didn’t show any further response.

The boy then did a loop around the market, giving the rest of his cards out as one of his classmates, a red-headed girl, jotted down notes on a pad. Millie assumed she must have brought the notepad with her, and made a mental note to bring supplies herself next time she went out. Assuming she could remember that, at least.

After the boy’s last card was gone, the sales-bot approached him. However, she then proclaimed, politely, his failure in the challenge. She assured him though, that he could try again—but not until tomorrow. She then turned to his other classmates and informed them of the same. The news was not taken well.

“What do you mean we’re disqualified too!?” The red-headed girl demanded, nearly screaming at the servitor.

“I apologize Initiate,” the robot responded calmly, “but if students form teams for this challenge they must pass or fail together. If you’d like to try again on your own, you may do so tomorrow. Speaking of which—for the rest of you present, please keep in mind if you leave now it shall be registered as a forfeiture.”

Many of the students nearby broke out into angry conversation, as the redhead cursed loudly and stomped away. The rest of her group followed her solemnly, as they all eventually disappeared through the market’s entrance portal.

Well, there goes about a fifth of the competition, Millie thought. She didn’t feel particularly encouraged though, given her own sinking feelings about her ability to solve this puzzle. She wanted to stay positive—she’d told CJ she’d put more effort into not giving in to self-pity—but the more time that went by, the more she felt sure of her own ignorance on the subject without a reasonable explanation as to why. She was sure she should know the answer to this puzzle—she’d known the Alchemical Stages after all—but the answers refused to come to her.

It felt like proof of her shortcomings. Evidence of how she failed to measure up to her more intelligent friends. Even magic drugs didn’t seem to be enough to make up the difference.

“Well, that kind of blows,” CJ said softly next to her.

Millie glanced at him, noticing him watching the portal where the group had disappeared. “Yeah. But hey, at least this means we’re in this together.”

CJ met her eyes and smiled brightly. “Always! Though, ah, if you don’t know the answer I’m not sure how we’re going to get this, today at least. Are you sure you can’t think of something?”

Millie winced, before shaking her head. She had some ideas, but rather than simply admit defeat she decided to talk through them. Perhaps an answer would come to her while she explained what she could recall.

“Nothing specific is coming to mind,” she admitted. “What I do know is that the processes are like…there’s like two sides to them. There’s the physical, actual methodology to Alchemy, which I can think of just fine, but then there’s a spiritual side. Philosophy and all that. I barely know anything about that side. I guess future me didn’t study it. At least, I don’t remember anything in my vision about it.”

Which is weird, she thought. Separate though the sides might be they were intrinsically linked. Nothing in her vision’s memories suggested a division so strong as to explain why she lacked half the equation. What was she missing? Everything in her mind seemed perfectly logical and intact. But she had a slowly growing sense of unease.

“And the order doesn’t matter for the physical side?” CJ asked. “I thought Alchemy was magic?”

“It is,” she assured him, “but the physical side is simpler. It’s literal chemistry. The only reason there’s magic involved is because chemical reactions can be…weirder, I guess? At least, compared to what we’re used to. It’s because there’s magic present in everything. That’s why the Alchemical processes have their own associated runes, which are used in the spell formations that go into a mixture’s formula. Those spells are how you control the magic inside the materials when you’re—”

Millie paused when she noticed something. A short girl, with brown hair in a similar style to Millie’s own, was standing nearby. Her skin was darker and her features oriental, but what drew Millie’s attention was the fact that she was familiar. She was the girl that had mocked her from the huddled group, and she seemed to be inching closer to Millie, as though to eavesdrop. Millie wasn’t sure how long the girl had been there, and as Millie hesitated, the girl turned to look at her, glaring. Her eyes were black and she had a rather unfortunately round face.

Millie returned the glare briefly, before grabbing CJ by the arm, and walking briskly towards the other side of the market. Glancing back, she saw the short Asian girl sneer, before joining her companions, who were huddled around the sales-bot asking it questions in low voices.

Once Millie was as far from any other student as she could get, while remaining in the market, she leaned closer to CJ and continued their discussion in barely audible whispers. This time she made sure to occasionally glance around them to make sure no one listened in.

“Sorry about that,” she said, and CJ nodded for her to continue. “Anyway, the spiritual side of Alchemy is all related to the ‘great work.’ Their Magnum Opus. It’s about using the processes to refine your spirit. That’s what the order of the processes is all about—it’s believed there are gateways in the soul that lead to that great awakening, and you open them in a specific order.”

She knew that much at least.

“But all of that is just philosophy, like astrology is for astronomy,” she continued. “Its borderline religious beliefs associated with those sciences, and Magincia doesn’t care about following the dogma of those practices. It teaches the practical, immediate uses of them. They won’t teach us past that. I think.”

In all honesty, she was extrapolating as best as she could. She was aware of the spiritual nature of the Alchemical runes, but she couldn’t figure out why she didn’t know anything about what went into this ‘great work.’ She felt like she was spewing wild conjecture more than factual information at this point, her vision’s memories of their classes and what they learned being indistinct and unhelpful. She had a solid grasp on the knowledge, but less surety on how she’d gotten it.

“Is astrology an actual thing for magic?” CJ asked.

“Huh? No, that was just a comparison,” Millie assured him, waving her hand. “Or, at least…I think it is.”

“But the Tarot is real for Divination?” CJ clarified.

“Yeah…it is, I guess. Fuck, you don’t think astrology is real, do you?”

CJ chuckled. “Eh, I doubt it. It’s all based on constellations visible from Earth. Then again, maybe that ‘so above, so below’ stuff means it’s all based on translatable esoterica.”

Millie paled. “P-please no. I don’t think my head can take it, clarity pills or not.”

“Alright, alright, my little Taurus I’ll leave you alone,” CJ laughed warmly. “It is a bit strange though.”

“What is?” She asked.

“Well, I don’t want to question you, but if Magincia only teaches practical uses for magic, why would this challenge center around Alchemical philosophy? And why would you know as much as you do if you’ve never studied it? Or been taught it?”

“I…” Millie paused and considered his argument. Finally, she growled in frustration. “I don’t know,” she admitted, annoyed that he’d seen the holes in her explanation so quickly. She wanted to be helpful—but why wasn’t her future vision giving her more information?

“Look,” she finally said, “maybe it’s just a roundabout way of getting us to learn the Alchemical runes? They can be used in spells, same as the Tarot runes can. But just like the Tarot runes, it’s really, really esoteric because of all the philosophy.”

She grimaced, remembering her future self’s viewpoint on the more involved runes. There was a reason her most complex spell had been a bolt of ice—it required very little nuance.

“Is esoteric good for runes?” He asked.

“Ugh, probably,” she answered. “Interpretation of runes is a skill in and of itself though. The simpler the rune, the easier it is to use but the more limited it is in the long run. You could probably use Alchemy or Tarot runes in simple spells to get amazing effects—if you understood them well enough to not melt your ears off.”

CJ nodded, deep in his thoughts. “Hmm. There’s a lot to unpack there. What’s the most complex rune you know, anyway?”

His tone was conversational, and Millie easily opened her mouth to reply, but she found a problem.

“I…” she paused, considering the runes and formations she was familiar with. She had focused on the Rune of Fire at one point in her vision, even interpreting it in her mind through the lens of Alchemy as a mental exercise. But through a stage, not a process.

She knew, for example, about the existence of the Alchemical Rune of Calcination. She knew that Calcination itself was the Alchemical process of applying heat to your materials, but it wasn’t the only way to refine materials in the stage of Nigredo, the Blackening. Nor was the Calcination of materials strictly limited to Nigredo. There were divisions and interplays to be had, but what mattered to her now was that, in theory, you could apply the philosophies behind another art’s beliefs to modify the runes of a practice.

In other words, you could change a relatively simple rune like Fire into something more complex, rather than try to utilize a more complex rune like Calcination. In her vision, she’d done just that—applying her understanding of the Alchemical stage of Nigredo towards the Rune of Fire. While she doubted she’d ever actually try to do that outside of a thought exercise, it could, in theory, twist the destructive properties of Fire to be transformative, rather than purely destructive. It could influence the chemical properties of the fire—like the difference between a grease fire and an electric fire. Fire Bolt could become Napalm Bolt, for all she could guess.

It was one of the primary ways to refine your spells. Another would have been attempting to combine both runes of Fire and Calcination into the same formation. Which in fairness, was an extremely common practice. The more runes you added to a spell, the more clear and stable it became, but the more it cost you in time and Mana, not to mention the mental strain in trying to hold the image in your head. If you understood more about your runes, you could use less of them to get the same effects from your spells for cheaper.

And yet, what she’d done in her vision as an offhanded thought experiment would have required philosophical knowledge of Alchemy and its runes. And far more than a passing familiarity at that. Which meant she had to have it rattling around in her skull, but she couldn’t recall the context. Further, she had no understanding of the Rune of Calcination, or any of the Alchemical runes, while she could recall the details on several others. Upon reflection—she realized she didn’t understand any complex rune in the least, despite obviously studying them. She should have something, but instead, she had…nothing.

Now, she finally clued into her problem.

She could feel it in her vision’s memories. An…edge. Like there were boundaries. But it had felt so all-encompassing before—perfectly seamless in her mind, every detail laid bare before her. Now, she felt like she’d just discovered the horizon was painted on and she was the newest star of the Truman show. And her certainty on her memory’s limitations was growing by the minute. Growing, alongside the sense of clearness permeating her being as her thoughts began to run faster. Smoother.

Curious, she checked her Soul Scroll. Her clarity had risen to 45. It was increasing quickly now as the pills continued to work, but it still wasn’t a large increase from where she’d started. 5 points weren’t much, right? But she could notice it, and a part of her found that self-awareness unsettling.

“Are you alright?” CJ asked. He must have seen the anxiety on her face.

She shrugged. “It’s nothing, I just…can feel the pills working. It’s weirding me out a little.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her. “Do you want to sit down? We can leave any time you want.”

“Thank you, I just…” She bit her lip as she hesitated. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “I’m starting to notice…the edges to my vision, I think.”

“The edges?”

Millie nodded. “I think even though I experienced the vision as though I was there, it might have still been limited to my own mind’s ability? Now that my clarity is rising I can…understand more.”

Like the vision’s growing smaller and I’m growing bigger, she thought.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” CJ asked.

“Well…sure, except the only thing I’m really understanding here is that I’m missing information. But it doesn’t feel like I should be.”

“You’re missing something?” CJ said, cocking an eyebrow. “Is the vision fading?”

“No, that’s not it,” she replied, shaking her head. “I think there might be…things I wasn’t shown but thought I was. I’m starting to realize that now. But I… Fuck, I just don’t get it.”

CJ scratched at his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, what if you were only shown the important bits but for the rest…you’re creating false memories?”

“What,” Millie said flatly.

“I’m not saying you’re making things up,” he said, holding his hands up defensively. “But it’s natural, actually. When we think back to events in our past, our brain will attempt to fill in the unimportant bits. We create false memories all the time. Maybe your clarity increase is clueing you in to your brain filling in the blanks around the information they did give you.”

“But…why? Why disguise it? Why not let me have the entire set of memories, or whatever?”

“Who says they’re disguising it?” CJ said, shrugging. “Maybe there’s a limit to how much they can give?”

“Great,” Millie pouted. “So my vision is busted. Can I even trust it?

“I think the fact that you’re seeing its limitations means you can,” he assured her. “Also, I thought of another reason they might have cherry-picked what info you actually have versus the filled-in bits.”

Millie sighed. “Hit me. What is it?”

“Well, imagine you did know all of it. You’d probably have walked all over this test.”

“Oh no, so terrible,” Millie said sarcastically. “God, you don’t think that’s the reason, do you?”

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “If I had to guess, yeah. If the reward for this challenge is on par with what we think potion-guy got and what your vision did give you, then having your vision reward you with the answers to other challenges would be broken.”

“But it doesn’t feel like I got that much…” Millie complained.

“Right, because a starting education, knowing a spell, a bunch of basic runes, and direct experience fighting our future enemies was totally nothing,” he teased.

Millie blushed, before turning away and politely pretending her friend wasn’t talking. She felt perfectly justified for being upset after finding out her future vision was more limited than she’d thought. She also felt lied to by her own brain.

“You know, it’s not all bad,” CJ offered. “If your clarity rises enough that you can tell everything that you’re missing, that’s pretty useful all in itself.”

Millie scoffed. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Knowing what you don’t know is the essence of Wisdom. I think Socrates said that?”

“You think this offers Wisdom? How?” She laughed.

“Because it could give us clues to information that will be used in other tests around this place.” He gave her a wink. “Use your ignorance to your advantage, Padawan.”

She rolled her eyes at him. But she couldn’t deny that he’d brought up an interesting potential. And with the way her mind was…changing, even now, she felt it might actually be possible for her to suss out the entire extent of what she did, and didn’t know, about the vision.

Her ruminations were interrupted, however, by someone shouting at the sales-bot nearby.

“How are we supposed to solve this stupid riddle? Do we have any clues? Real clues? Not stupid fucking cards and bullshit explanations!” The man, a slightly overweight Hispanic student whose Academy uniform was straining at the buttons, shook his cards in the face of the robot. Strangely, he’d somehow acquired a white peaked cap to go with his uniform—something Millie hadn’t seen on her own uniform’s listing, nor was it something CJ or any of the other men she’d seen wear. Huh, maybe there’s some deviation to the uniforms we can get? She thought, watching the exchange closely.

“The answers you seek can be found in the Archives,” the robot replied, her voice sweet to the point of mockery.

Millie sighed, as she heard CJ do the same under his breath. A groan also echoed out among the other students. It seemed she and CJ hadn’t been the only ones to hear that line a hundred times that day.

The overweight man’s face blazed red, however, before he turned and marched away. Looking past him, she saw the group of huddled students still watching them from a corner. The girl from earlier was staring directly at Millie, hostility blazing in her dark eyes. But after meeting the girl’s gaze briefly, Millie looked away. As much as the other girl’s attitude rankled Millie—she wasn’t sure why they were so angry and didn’t see a point in antagonizing them. The way they were glaring, it was as though they thought she’d stolen something precious from them.

“So,” CJ finally said, “do you want to take a wild guess before we leave?”

Millie chewed on her lip. “I…guess. We don’t have much other choice. We’ll have to hope this quest is still available after you’ve had a chance to find the answer.”

“Hey,” CJ tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up to meet his eyes. “When we find the answer. Together, remember?”

He winked at her again, and she gave him a rueful smile. They then shuffled over to one of the clerks to throw their metaphorical hats in the ring. The sound of the other students, desperately trying to solve the puzzle, faded into the background as Millie spread her study cards onto the table.

Cibation, Projection, Congelation, Sublimation, Seperation, Solution/Dissolution, Putrefaction, Calcination, Fermentation, Exaltation, Conjuction, and Multiplication, she read. I could ask for more information about each of them and try to determine the steps, but that’s still just a wild guess.

She grimaced as she spread the cards out to look at them closer. They were unadorned white cards with only the black text of the process listed on them. Absently, she waved a hand slowly over each card before she realized she was trying to sense magic in them. Hah, my vision may have holes in it but apparently I have habits as a spellcaster.

She almost laughed as she let her hand hover over them. She imagined what it would feel like, in the future, when she finally unlocked her magic. As terrifying as the vision had been at times, the rush of energy in her veins…the power at her command…she’d have been lying if she said it wasn’t alluring. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when she noticed movement in the corner of her vision.

Looking up, she saw the clerk standing there smiling. Her eyes were elsewhere, however, staring off into the distance. Odd, I swear I just saw her eyes move suddenly.

She shook her head and looked back towards her cards. What the clerk did wasn’t something Millie had to concern herself with, so she put it out of her head as she played with her cards, rearranging them and running through her best guess on what they could mean in her mind. CJ took the opportunity to ask about the processes, getting the same stock answers, but he was genuinely enthused to hear about them. I mean, if he follows his fortune star, or whatever, this is kind of something he’ll be really into anyway, she thought.

During a lull in the explanations as CJ retreated inward to contemplate the puzzle, she noticed something again as she hovered her hands over her cards. A flicker of movement from the robot’s eyes out of the corner of her vision. It was so fast, she almost missed it. Experimentally, Millie cocked her head to get a better look at the robot in her periphery but continued to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention.

She then slowly moved her hands over her cards, hovering over each one briefly before going on. Then, in a split second, she definitely saw it.

The robot’s eyes darted to Millie as her hand hovered over Conjunction, but they shot away almost as quickly, returning to a bored observance of a single point in the distance. Millie suppressed a smile as she leisurely continued her slow scan of the cards, until she finished, and proceeded to do it again, backward this time.

And once again, the robot looked at Millie the moment her hand was over Conjunction.

Gotcha, Millie thought, remembering something her father had told her as a youth. Then, she leaned over to CJ and whispered.

“Hey, do you remember that old story about the math horse?”

CJ pulled back and stared at Millie. After a moment he whispered back.

“Ah…Clever Hans? Why—”

His eyes shot open, and he glanced back to the robot until Millie poked his chest.

“Hey, eyes on me CJ,” she murmured, before shooting him a quick smile and returning to playing with her cards nonchalantly. After a moment, he returned the smile and gave a subtle nod. He understood. Millie then quickly scooped up her cards, smiled warmly to the clerk, and walked away from the counter.

It had been ages since she’d heard the story from her father. Clever Hans; the horse that could perform arithmetic. He could reportedly stomp out the correct number to any equation you gave it. A true marvel of animal intelligence.

It was a ruse, of course. Her father had loved that story and even used it as a parable to explain the importance of body language and looking people in the eyes. Because it was when a psychologist had investigated the reports of the genius horse that they’d found that the animal was watching his trainer. Waiting for the moment they looked up to see if Hans was done counting to stop. And then, he would. Cue the miracle.

The robots were making the same mistake. Only looking at Millie to see if she’d hand them the card they needed, and looking away at all other times to keep the mystery going. It almost seemed too good to be true, but Millie had noticed and been watching for some time now, just how expressive the robots were through their eyes. With the way they constantly smiled, it was almost like their eyes were the only way they could express themselves.

And if they really have souls like the Fortune-Teller said? She thought. Then their eyes are the window to it. A tug on her sleeve drew her attention.

“Hey, wait up—” CJ cut himself off before lowering his voice. “I thought you figured it out?”

“I did,” Millie whispered back. “But we have to do it in order, remember? We need to find the start.”

“Which one is that?” He asked quietly, looking over the area anxiously.

Millie smiled again. “At the start, obviously.”

“The star—oh. Of course,” he said, with a laugh.

The two of them made their way over to the clerk who’d been the start of the puzzle. They had to wait a spell for a small group of students to finish talking to the clerk, one of which turned in his guess sullenly before moving on. Then, they stepped up as Millie spread her cards. Here’s hoping this clerk is like the last one in all ways, she thought.

Hovering her hands over the cards, the robot briefly looked at Millie when her hand settled over Calcination. Bingo, Millie thought with a smile but kept going. She didn’t want the other students to figure out what she was doing. Eventually, however, she handed the clerk the Calcination card.

“Are you sure?” The clerk asked. Her eyes were intensely not looking at Millie, focused downward at the glass case. Millie had the distinct impression the robot was trying incredibly hard to cover its excitement. But that one could have just been Millie projecting.

“I am,” Millie confirmed, and the clerk took the card and tucked it away without further reaction.

Looking forward, Millie had a brief panic attack, however, when she realized she didn’t know if the second counter would be the one to her left or her right. There were two rings to the counters that alternated between the inner and outer circles. Should she do the outer displays first and then work inward? Or should she bounce between them, zig-zagging?

In the end, she looked up towards the glass ceiling. While the twelve points of light up there didn’t seem to actively reveal anything about the processes, the flow of action between the scenes did bounce between inner and outer, as it focused more on the division between the stages as a whole. Zig-zag it is, she thought, heading to the counter on her right.

It was a time-consuming process, stopping to hover over the cards and sell her act. While she didn’t want the other students to figure out what she was doing, she equally didn’t want to clue the clerks into her reading them. They might change their behavior if they realized, nullifying her advantage. But, one by one, she made her way through. Solution/Dissolution was second, followed by Separation. Conjunction led into Putrefaction, and then into Congelation.

They were halfway done, and students were beginning to take notice. Millie did her best to ignore them, trying to act as though she were just whimsically guessing. But she couldn’t help the excitement starting to build in her system, and the way CJ was bouncing on the spot next to her showed that she wasn’t the only one. She got through Cibation and Sublimation next, before she ran into a problem.

A student suddenly approached her.

The guy was only half a head taller than Millie, with long hair tied back in a ponytail with an equally long, but scraggly beard tied together with beads. He wore overly large glasses that did little for his elongated face, and he was thin enough that his uniform hung on him unseemly. When he spoke, he had such a nasally voice Millie originally thought he might have been mocking her. After a moment, however, she realized it was legitimately the way he talked.

“Hey, can you hold up?” He asked her. He gave her a sickly smile that was far from inviting. Next to him was the shorter woman that had mocked Millie as well.

This was the group that had been eyeing her and CJ the entire time. She tried not to glare at them.

“What do—” Millie paused, biting back the irritation she felt. She started again and tried to be civil. “Ehm, sorry. Ah, what do you need?”

She tried to keep her voice neutral, but she couldn’t help but notice the girl next to the man was still glaring at her.

“Yeah, sorry to bother you and whatever, but we noticed you’re making your way through the challenge.”

“Oh, just taking a guess,” Millie said, waving her hand amiably.

The nasal-boy sneered. “Yeah. Sure. But there’s only two of you. You know the team limit is ten, right? If you’re going to solve this, shouldn’t you at least share?”

“I—” Share? Seriously? Was that why they’d been looking at her angrily? Did they think she was taking this away from them somehow?

Millie hesitated as she looked around the market. Everyone was staring at her, even the robots. But, she supposed, she had been the one to start the challenge. Word must have spread to the students who’d missed that part, and now everyone thought she was bringing the contest to an end thanks to this sudden confrontation. Ugh, should I keep playing ignorant? She thought. But if I solve this in front of everyone while claiming it was a wild guess, I can’t imagine that’ll go over well.

Besides, shouldn’t she share the rewards if she could? That would be the morally correct thing to do, after all. Then again, she was less than enthused with the idea of sharing with nasal-boy and his petty friends.

“Look, we…already have a class,” Millie said, trying to remain neutral while politely shrugging the guy off. She was determined to find a civil way to deescalate the situation.

The man scoffed rudely. “Class isn’t the same as teams. Teams are just temporary. For these challenges?”

“And we thought she knew what was going on?” The nearby short girl faux-whispered to the rest of her group—a taller bald man with a well-trimmed beard, and a pudgy boy with sunken eyes. She was easily loud enough to hear, of course, and the group laughed at Millie’s expense.

Millie’s eyebrow twitched. Their attitude was leaving much to be desired.

“Sorry, I already have a team,” Millie corrected sweetly, before grabbing CJ’s arm. Her best friend shot the group a wide, piteous smile.

“Are you—” nasal-boy paused, clearly on the verge of saying something insulting before catching himself. “Listen, you can expand your team to ten at any time. It doesn’t have to be limited to your classmates. We checked with the robot already.”

He waved towards the sales-bot. When the metal girl noticed, it turned to them and curtsied politely. Millie did recall nasal-boy and his group huddling around the servitor earlier. They just really fucking love huddling, don’t they? She thought.

“Okay,” Millie said, “I get it, but…”

“But what?” He cut in. “You don’t want to share with us?”

The short girl scoffed. “Bitch.”

“Well you aren’t exactly giving me a good reason to,” Millie shot back.

“Besides,” CJ interjected, “why the hell should we share anything with anyone?”

Damn straight, Millie thought. Morale quandary or not—these guys were total assholes. But she also didn’t like the way nasal-boy was smiling.

“Not all of us got cool shit for free,” the boy retorted. “Not like little miss Goblin-lover here. The least you could do is fucking share.”

Millie’s eyes bulged. “Little miss what now?” She spat out.

The small group chuckled loudly.

“Heh, yeah,” nasal-boy said, “You were fucking running around for half an hour screaming about Goblins and actin’ like a psycho-lunatic.”

“I…did?” She said, looking over to CJ. She knew she’d been…upset, but she hadn’t thought about how obvious that would have been for the other students. As she scrutinized her best friend, however, he combed his fingers through his hair and looked away sheepishly. It was standard CJ body language for: I didn’t know how to tell you, I’m sorry.

Fuck and everyone knows? She thought. Great.

“Yeah, ya did,” nasal-boy emphasized. “There was a girl who got golden armor on the fourth floor and she freaked out too, running around like a glow stick. So everyone knows you got something, just like her.”

Millie scowled. “Look, I don’t know what you think I—”

“I heard you, bitch,” the short girl interrupted. “You got a vision.”

Millie’s eyes snapped open. Fuck, she had been eavesdropping. That stupid little shit.

“And now you can solve these challenges that the rest of us are fucked on,” nasal-boy said, sneering triumphantly. Millie didn’t like the way the crowd was looking at her.

“We weren’t sure if it was safe to deal with you,” nasal-boy continued, “but if that’s all you got then that makes this easy. We can’t do anything about the crystal guy or the armored girl. But you? You’re going to tell us everything you saw, and you’re going to share this challenge’s reward with us.”

Crystal guy? She dismissed the thought as she looked at the group in disbelief, before scoffing. Fuck this. She chose to ignore them, turning to CJ and nodding, before making to head towards the next counter. She wouldn’t dignify these assholes with a response.

But with a gesture from the nasal-boy, his two male companions walked up, baring their way.

“Really?” Millie said, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just kindly fuck off?”

The nasal-boy laughed darkly, before turning to his female companion.

“The bitch really doesn’t know, does she?”

“Told ya,” she replied.

“Know what,” Millie snapped.

“The rules, bitch,” the girl snapped back.

CJ muttered. “Rules?”

“Yeah, rules,” nasal-boy said. “About how confrontations between students is handled?” He chuckled again.

Millie narrowed her eyes, staring between the small group, as well as the students in the market watching them. Then, it finally clicked.

We’re not in Canada anymore, she thought. Is there a rule in this alien city that stops him from literally attacking us? She’d assumed, naively now it seemed, that fights would be disallowed. She’d always gotten in trouble in school for fighting, so it seemed natural. Baring that, she didn’t think anyone would accost a pregnant woman like herself. But the desperation in the air was growing palpable.

“Hey, robot,” the nasal-boy shouted. “What are the rules on fighting again?”

He continued to sneer at Millie, clearly well aware of what he was going to hear. At his barking question, the sales-bot glided over. Her wide smile beamed at them all as she answered.

“Fighting between students is allowed, though students will be held accountable for any excessive collateral damage caused. Further, fights cannot be over student resources without a sanctioned duel. You may register for a conflict at any time, but it must be witnessed by a figure with authority. Spontaneous duels are limited in the terms that can be agreed upon, but advanced terms can be registered at the Student’s Conflict Resolution Offices.”

That’s what they were talking to the robot about? Millie thought with a grimace, before turning back to nasal-boy.

“So, what now?” Millie spat. “You’re going to attack me?”

The boy shook his head. “Nope. Can’t do that—I’m pretty sure your vision,” he spoke loudly, emphasizing the word for all the students nearby, “would count as a student resource. Right, robo-bitch?”

He turned to the servitor, who bowed politely in agreement.

“So instead, I got a different deal for ya,” he said with another grating laugh. “You agree to a duel with me. When I win, you give us the full breakdown of your vision, in front of everyone here, and team up with us and maybe a few others on this challenge. Say no, and we’ll rough up that faggot friend of yours.”

Millie’s blood ran cold as she stared at the man. There were few words she hated more in the world than that one, but CJ squeezed her arm. Glancing up to him, Millie met his eyes and tight-lipped expression. He was obviously even less happy with the term, but his gaze left little doubt that he was more worried about Millie doing something stupid.

Which, to be fair, she thought darkly, I am prone to do.

She watched as CJ turned to the nasal-boy and laughed in his face, speaking equally loudly for the crow nearby. “So let’s get this straight—you want to duel a pregnant girl for information she may or may not have? And here I thought Chivalry was dead.”

A few other students nearby chuckled as the nasal-boy flushed.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he insisted. “She can yield before anything bad happens.”

“And if I don’t agree to fight,” Millie cut in, “you’ll attack us. Why the hell would you go this far?”

“Isn’t it fucking obvious!?” The boy shouted, his face growing even redder. “Not even a day ago we were fighting for our fucking lives. My friends and I were chased through a maze by fucking skeletons. My cousin was butchered in front of my eyes!”

Spittle flew out of his mouth as he jabbed a finger at Millie. “And now? Now they’re gearing us up. Giving us magical items but refusing to say what for. So tell me, vision girl—what do you think’s coming next!?”

Millie grit her teeth. Should she just tell them about expeditions and magic? Looking around it was pretty clear the cat was out of the bag. Especially if everyone was aware of her freakout after the Tarot shop. But she hesitated. His words struck her with a sudden sense of dread.

In her vision, she’d been desperate for every last resource point. Even at her lowest point, having lost everything, she’d been fighting with animalistic savagery. She’d purposefully crippled an opponent just to increase her chances of survival a fraction. To keep going, to fight even one more time. But why?

Why was she fighting? Why not just stay in her dorms and be safe? If she had truly lost everything, then why risk anything? What could have motivated her beyond her son’s safety? Why would anyone in their right mind risk life and limb going on deadly expeditions?

Unless…staying in the Academy wasn’t an option.

Was this asshole right? Was Magincia just giving them a chance to prepare for something worse? Her vision showed her nothing. Which she knew, now…was a clue. It wasn’t reassuring.

Millie swallowed hard.

“Look,” she said, “I…did get a vision.”

The crowd around them broke out into whispers as the nasal-boy sneered again.

“But,” Millie followed up, “it was limited. I saw bits and pieces, that’s all. I saw some of the things we’ll fight but I don’t know why.”

“And we’re supposed to believe that?” The short girl scoffed.

“Yeah,” Millie replied, barely restraining herself from cursing out the small girl and escalating things.

“Yet you know the answer to this test and won’t share it!” The nasal-boy accused. “You think your little act—you pretending not to know which card goes where—is fooling us?”

Millie grimaced. She supposed her act might have been a bit obvious to a group that had been scrutinizing her every action since she’d arrived in the market.

“I…have a guess, sure. But I don’t know for certain, alright? That’s the fucking truth!”

“It’s more than anyone else has you selfish bitch!” He screamed. “And I’m not going to let you just steal this from us!”

“We’re not stealing anything you asshole!” CJ responded. “Everyone has a fair shot at this and we shouldn’t have to give you anything.”

“Fair? Fair?” The nasal-boy scoffed. “You get handed the answers on a silver plater and horde it all to yourself and call that fair? You’re lying sacks of shit!”

This time, Millie gripped CJ’s arm and gave him a warning look. Even his patience had limits, and these assholes had worn through it.

“We’re not going to fight you,” Millie declared through grit teeth. “I’m willing…to share, but not with fuckwads like you. Gear up elsewhere!”

The nasal-boy turned beet red before he nodded to his companions. They immediately stepped up.

“What do you think—”

Millie’s words were cut off as she was shoved to the side. CJ yelped before he was grabbed and punched by the two men. Millie screamed, pushing at them, before turning towards the crowd.

“Are you all really going to just stand there? Help us!”

Millie grit her teeth and looked around. Not long ago, she’d found it frustrating that people in her life had rushed to her aide all because she was a ‘helpless’ pregnant girl.

But now no one was coming. The other students in the area watched, many looking uncomfortable, but all clearly sharing the same thought.

‘What if she does know something? What if he’s right?’

And now that he’d put it in the crowd’s mind that the only way to get an honest answer from her was through a duel, did she have a choice?

They struck her friend again and again. CJ tried to hit back, but he’d never been a fighter. Every noise they drew from him was daggers in her heart.

“Stop! I’ll fucking duel you—STOP!”

She screamed, and the two men paused. They looked back to the nasal-boy, who sneered triumphantly once more. He gestured to the servitor, and it approached.

“We’d like to register a duel,” he told it.

“Very well. Who are the participants and what are the terms.”

“Me and her,” the boy said, gesturing towards Millie. “If I win, she tells everyone her vision and teams up with us on this challenge.”

The robot nodded, before turning to Millie. “And if you win, Initiate?”

The group of bullies laughed, but Millie glared at them.

“If I win…” she paused, mind racing for good choices. “They have to leave us alone. Us and our class.”

“I apologize, Initiate, but that is too vague,” the robot replied. “Furthermore, stipulations for a spontaneous duel cannot include individuals who are not present.”

Millie grit her teeth. “Fine. Then they have to leave us alone. For as long as that’s allowed to be.”

“That would be ten days. More can be bargained for in the Student’s Conflict Resolution Offices if you wish to head there. No? Very well. Would you like anything else to be included in the terms?”

Millie hesitated, looking back at CJ. Blood was running out of his nose and from the corner of his mouth, and she could see the fear in his eyes. She hated this. But she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked back around. The crowd continued to stare on, and nasal-boy and his little girlfriend were giving her shit-eating grins as they reveled in their supposed victory. Absently, Millie’s eyes trailed over the displays, and an idea came to mind.

“I want their pills too. All of them.”

Nasal-boy scoffed. However, surprisingly, the robot shook its head.

“I apologize, Initiate, but the resource value for that is too high for a spontaneous duel. I could authorize one pill from each member of their group, which you could choose, but that would be all.”

Millie waved her hand. “Sure,” she said and settled on glaring at the nasal-boy.

With the agreement struck, the robot curtsied to the two of them. “I hereby witness this duel between Initiate McArthur and Initiate Strickland. Given no preferences listed, the duel shall continue until one opponent yields, falls unconscious, or perishes. Any interference from the other students is disallowed and is grounds for disciplinary action. Interference from teammates is an automatic disqualifier for their team.

“If Initiate Strickland is victories, he shall receive the contents of the Death Knell Omen that Initiate McArthur gained to be shared as he sees fit. Should Initiate McArthur perish in this conflict, her soul shall be re-animated until the terms are satisfied, before being recycled. Should Initiate McArthur be victorious, she shall receive Alchemical Boosters from the opposing team, no more than one from each but of her choosing. In addition, their team shall not be allowed to engage in additional conflict with Initiate McArthur or Initiate Johnson for the period of ten days.”

Millie winced when the name of her vision was announced, the crowd getting excited by the news, even if a lot of them still looked conflicted. The robot then ushered people to the side, clearing space around the soon-to-be combatants. Millie helped CJ struggle to his feet, before he whispered to her.

“Millie, please don’t…do anything stupid, okay?” He pleaded.

Millie ground her teeth before sighing. “Hey, I thought you wanted me to be more like my old self.”

He gave her a flat look. “Fighting bullies isn’t what I had in mind, Millie.”

She met his gaze. “It’ll be alright. Okay? Go sit down. See if one of the robots has an ice pack or something.”

She gave him a warm smile, and he sighed before the robot ushered him away. Millie wasn’t exactly thrilled with the situation, but she felt her opponent was severely underestimating her. Pregnant or not, she was fairly certain she outweighed the scrawny boy and he didn’t come across as that threatening.

She changed her assessment, however, after the servitor counted them down, starting the fight, and her opponent opened up by pulling out a large hunting knife from under his coat. He laughed darkly as he pointed it at her.

“Well…fuck,” she cursed.