The explosion lasted long but, was distant enough to be quiet. Mary looked out of her cell - the corridors were still empty.

Should she go running away using the distractions or wait for someone to come for her? Hmm... what did Veritas say again...? She couldn't remember the exact words. Something about being prepared...

More explosions. Closer.

Mary jumped out of her cell, and Mossie followed right behind her. She winced as the door shut behind her with a loud clink. She looked around. Was there any chance she could get her things back? No, they probably took them somewhere-

She almost yelped as her former cell shook and started sliding down like an elevator. And at the top of its ceiling, there was a large, shiny, ornamented chest with a gold-trimmed post-it note on the open lock. A cheerful bell rang out as it reached the corridor's floor level.

Mary walked towards the chest cautiously and read the note.

Thank you for visiting our prison. Your belongings can be found in the chest. Anything you leave in the chest after your leave will be considered a tip. Thanks, and we hope to see you soon!

Yeah... no, she wasn't buying it.

Was it a trap? Mary wondered if she could persuade Mossie to do the opening. But the robot didn't seem that helpful, despite its novel friendliness.

Mary flipped the chest open with her foot, jumping away as soon as she could.

Nothing happened.

She came closer and found her armour, the jagged sword, a backpack, the pocket money Bromman left her ages ago, some clothes, a toothbrush which reminded her how dirty she felt... Even the invisible book on the battle etiquette she 'borrowed' from the library was present. It went without saying that the sword should not have fit into the chest judging by its outside dimensions, but apparently, no one cared.

She took everything out as quickly as she could, and glancing both ways to make sure no one was around yet, and changed from her prison uniform into something more normal, then donned the armour on top of that.

The next explosion was so close that Mary felt the vibrations on the floor. She quickly began stuffing everything into the backpack when she heard people running and shouting behind a corner. Almost everything but the book fit, and she decided to just throw it at the darned chest. It wouldn't be useful anytime soon anyway. Mossie buzzed around visibly annoyed, but she knew better than to ask by now.

The chest lid slammed down with a loud snap, and a giant tongue moved from one side to the other like a dog licking its lips. The thing burped audibly before the bell rang again and part of the floor around it started riding down. Mary glanced up to see another cell with its own set of 'iron' bars sliding down in place, readying to contain another unfortunate student.

The footsteps echoed louder and louder among the stone walls. Mary pulled the sword out and prepared her other hand to cast a fireball. Any second now...

A group of five men in dirty armoured wrapped in rags ran out at her. Each bore a different weapon, from axes wider than Mary's shoulders, through halberds with irregular shafts, to the thick sword carried by the leader. They were about eighty feet apart when he raised a clenched fist and commanded everyone to halt.

“Mary Susan Oceanrunner?” he asked, taking a step forward.

“Who's asking?”

The stranger took off his hood, and Mary saw a familiar pair of bright, piercing eyes. “Arthur Quillich. Remember? Bromman paid us to protect you.”

Mary looked at the man, letting a memory of her journey to the academy push itself to the front of her mind. Yup, that checked out.

“Great job you've done so far!”

Another explosion shook the ceiling above them, covering everyone in grey dust. Mary flinched. Arthur snorted.

“So, do you wanna get out of here? Or would you rather stay?” he asked without a note of hurry in his tone. She didn't exactly trust him, but...

“Lead the way.”

His men took positions in a square formation around Mary, with the leader outside and... well, leading. They were in a hurry.

The group jogged past hundreds of cells, but all of them were empty. It felt weird. Surely they should have met at least someone?

The sound of explosions grew louder as they neared the entrance. There were more sounds, way more than should have been at this our. Sounds of metal clashing against metal. Shouts. Roars of flame...

“What's happening?” Mary asked.

“Mostly a distraction,” Arthur replied without looking back. “You've made a few friends along the way. I wonder if they'll prove enough. Ok, this should be enough.”

They stopped in front of a long section of a grey wall without any cells, doors or other irregularities. Just the pure essence of greyness.

Arthur raised his sword, and a sickly green pillar of light enveloped him like an ill sun breaking through the bandage of clouds. Mary felt a wave of something unnatural pass over her - some kind of darkness, but different than that within herself. It was less desperate but madder, insane.

The retired hero angled his sword down and plunged it a few feet deep into the floor, which cracked and opened like a volcanic rock just before the eruption. Clouds of green gas filled the air, and Mary barely managed to hold her breath in time. And then...

Half-transparent pieces of armour started rising from the rift, slowly building a giant, ghostly knight in a kneeling position. Well, it would take them probably half the time if they came out of the rift in order. They clashed every few seconds and finally formed into a waiting line, but Mary wasn't in the mood to complain about stuff like that.

Once the knight was completed, it rose up and swept an arm at the wall, collapsing it outwards. To Mary's surprise, the damaged parts immediately started to regrow. Not fast enough to keep her or her rescue party inside, but probably enough to make any long-term sabotage or individual escape plans problematic. The spectral figure bowed towards Arthur and dissipated into green mists again.

Outside, the night was as bright as day. Well, ok, not really, but definitely like an early part of dawn at least. People of great variety cast spells of even more varied kinds, and for some reason, most of them either exploded, banged or flashed in addition to whatever they tried to achieve.

Arthur pointed his sword to the sky again and summoned another pillar of light. This time it seemed to be used just as a signal - immediately, a few more groups joined his, some carrying various artefacts, others escorting rescuees... or prisoners. Mary thought she'd seen some familiar faces, but everything was too chaotic, dark and flashy for her to be sure.

“Can you ride a horse?” Arthur asked her without lowering his sword.

“What?”

“Horses. Big, four-legged animals. You have horses in your reality, right? Do you know how to ride on them?”

“We do, but no. Why would I-”

She didn't get to finish before Arthur slammed his sword down again. This time the resulting rift was dozen-times larger, and instead of animated armours, it spawned horses. Or horse spirits, or whatever. And actually, launched would be a better word than spawned, since the creatures appeared already in full gallop almost directly beneath the people awaiting them. Each animal caught its rider into a saddle before completely emerging from the ground.

Unfortunately, Mary had no time to process this event properly, as she ended up facing the wrong direction when her horse appeared. Needless to say, she was now holding on to the saddle for dear life, as the horse carried her away at a ridiculous speed backwards.