The corridor beyond the portal pulsed faintly with residual magic, the walls etched with constellations that shifted and shimmered as they walked. It was quieter here — unnervingly so — as though the labyrinth itself was holding its breath, waiting for them to slip.

Verena's boots echoed against the smooth, obsidian-like floor, the only sound aside from Vivienne's cautious footsteps and Isolde's steady stride. The air was thicker here, heavy with tension and faint traces of ozone.

"This feels… different," Vivienne whispered, clutching Verena's sleeve again.

"Yeah, that's not your paranoia talking," Verena replied, eyes scanning the corridor. "This is where things usually get weird."

Isolde's gaze sharpened. "Weird how?"

"Plot armor shatters. Coincidence breaks. The author starts pulling from their trauma folder," Verena muttered under her breath, only half-joking.

They reached an intersection. The corridor split into three identical paths, each marked with a different glowing emblem: a roaring flame, an unyielding mountain, and a swirling tide.

"Elemental gates," Isolde observed, folding her arms. "Standard fare."

"Standard fare that will probably try to kill us," Verena corrected, rubbing her temples. "Lovely."

They paused, deliberating. The fire path crackled with faint heat, the earth path rumbled softly, and the water path glimmered with mirrored illusions rippling across its entrance.

"Split again?" Isolde suggested.

Verena grimaced. "Ugh. I hate when we split the party."

Vivienne tugged at her sleeve. "C-Can I stay with you…? I'm not good at… solo…"

Before Verena could answer, a system notification flared across her vision:

[Mandatory Team Split Activated]

Each team member must face one Elemental Gate alone.

Only upon individual success will the paths reconverge.

Failure results in immediate ejection from the Labyrinth.

Optional Objective: Highest combined performance will affect Novae Covenant ranking.

"Of course," Verena groaned. "It's never easy."

Isolde had already chosen her path — the Earth Gate — with no hesitation, vanishing into the tunnel without so much as a glance back.

Vivienne looked between the remaining options, visibly sweating. "I… water… please…?"

"Go," Verena nodded, nudging her gently toward the swirling tide. "You'll do fine."

Vivienne disappeared through the water gate, leaving Verena alone with the flaming emblem ahead.

"Fire. Perfect," Verena muttered, cracking her knuckles. "Trial of Willpower and Emotion. Wonder what brand of mental breakdown they've cooked up this time."

She stepped through.

The world immediately shifted.

Gone were the labyrinth's polished halls. Instead, she stood in a burning field beneath a crimson sky, ash swirling like snow. The ground cracked beneath her feet, molten lines of lava forming the shapes of constellations across the charred earth.

A voice echoed around her — familiar, sharp, laced with condescension.

"Thought you could outrun this, Verena?"

She turned.

It was herself.

Or… a twisted version. Dressed in the same academy uniform, but her eyes gleamed with malicious confidence. Her posture was regal, every movement dripping with superiority. It was Verena — if she had fully embraced the villainess role the world expected.

"This again," Verena muttered, unimpressed. "Evil doppelgänger? Very original."

The false Verena smirked. "You call it unoriginal. I call it inevitable."

They circled each other, the heat radiating off the ground like a living thing.

"This trial isn't about fighting monsters, sweetheart," the copy cooed. "It's about you. Your weaknesses. Your fears."

"Trust me," Verena replied dryly, conjuring threads of mimicry energy between her fingers. "There's no fear left. Just a lot of caffeine and spite."

The false Verena lunged.

It wasn't a physical attack. It was memories.

Sudden, visceral flashes of failure — Evelyn's tearful eyes when Verena pushed her too hard, Beatrice's cold distance, the quiet looks of doubt from the other heroines. Regret twisted her chest, sharp as glass.

The ground beneath her cracked. Flames licked her heels.

She clenched her fists, forcing the mimicry threads to stabilize, weaving a shield around her mind.

"Nice try," Verena hissed, teeth gritted. "But self-loathing doesn't scare me anymore."

The false Verena tilted her head, intrigued. "We'll see."

Another barrage hit — this time, fragments of her own system notifications, reminders of every missed opportunity, every affection point lost, every time she faltered in controlling the story's trajectory.

But Verena stood her ground.

"This isn't real," she growled. "Just smoke and mirrors."

The flaming ground pulsed, the illusion wavering.

Her doppelgänger frowned. "Then prove it."

Verena raised her hands. Her mimicry construct flared to life, threads of borrowed constellation magic weaving into a radiant, flaming shield. With steady steps, she advanced — through the fire, through the illusions, toward herself.

"You're not me," she declared. "You're the worst-case scenario."

The copy's eyes narrowed. "And what are you, then?"

Verena smiled, despite the burn of exhaustion licking at her edges.

"Work in progress."

With a final burst of mimicry energy, the false Verena shattered into sparks, the burning field dissolving like smoke.

When her vision cleared, she was back in the labyrinth corridor, standing at the exit of the Fire Gate. Ahead, the paths reconverged.

One trial down.

And she wasn't done yet.

The stone corridor ahead twisted and pulsed, faint traces of astral energy shimmering along the edges like veins of liquid starlight. Verena exhaled, adjusting her collar as the faint heat of the Fire Gate faded behind her, replaced by a colder, quieter tension.

The labyrinth was reconfiguring again. Walls groaned softly, ancient mechanisms shifting in ways that defied logic. As the stone rearranged itself, a wider chamber came into view—vaulted ceilings, glowing runes along the walls, and, most importantly, two familiar figures standing at its center.

Isolde leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed, expression sharp as ever. Beside her, Vivienne clung nervously to the strap of her bag, eyes lighting up the moment Verena stepped in.

"You made it!" Vivienne beamed, practically bouncing on her heels.

"Unfortunately, yes," Verena replied dryly, though relief threaded through her tone. "Did the trials bully you two as hard as they bullied me?"

"Barely," Isolde answered, flipping a strand of silver hair behind her shoulder. "Earth Gate was tedious, but nothing I couldn't handle. You, on the other hand—" Her eyes swept over Verena's disheveled state. "—look like you went twelve rounds with your inner demons."

"I did," Verena muttered, massaging her temples. "They were rude."

Vivienne giggled softly. "Mine wasn't scary… It was like… a giant fish trying to drown me in my own head. But I think I passed…?"

"Good enough," Verena sighed, glancing around. "Where's the exit?"

Isolde pointed across the chamber. "There. But…"

Of course there was a 'but.' There was always a 'but.'

"…we're not alone," Isolde finished.

The shadows along the far wall rippled, and from them emerged a hulking, serpentine figure—scaled, celestial patterns etched along its length, eyes glinting like twin moons. Its form flickered, semi-transparent, as though it drifted between planes of existence.

A Zodiabeast.

Pisces.

"Oh, for the love of—" Verena groaned. "Didn't we already do emotional trauma? Why do we get the bonus round?"

The Zodiabeast coiled slowly, a low, ethereal hum filling the air. Its long body shimmered with water-like distortions, its movements unnervingly graceful. It wasn't attacking. Yet.

Vivienne shrank back, trembling. "T-That's… my sign…"

"Wonderful," Isolde muttered, drawing her threads of Bind Magic between her fingers. "Let me guess. It's keyed to emotional manipulation, illusions, and general nightmare fuel?"

Verena tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "No… it's not just keyed to Vivienne."

The moment the thought crossed her mind, the Zodiabeast's eyes locked onto her—cold, ancient, knowing.

"This one's personal."

A familiar chill ran down her spine.

The beast lunged.

In an instant, the chamber warped. Reality folded inward like a collapsing star, the floor vanishing beneath her feet, the walls dissolving into a sea of starlight. A moment later, Verena found herself falling—weightless, soundless—through an endless, black expanse.

She landed with a soft thud, the floor beneath her shifting like liquid glass.

Everything was still.

No walls. No sky. Just an infinite horizon of reflective surface stretching in every direction.

"Perfect," Verena muttered to herself. "I'm in the existential void."

She stood, patting her robes down, heart racing despite her sarcasm. Her reflection stared back at her from every angle—uncertain, tense, but stubborn as hell.

A quiet hiss coiled around her ankle.

"Saphira…?" she whispered, glancing down.

The snake familiar materialized beside her, ethereal scales glittering faintly in the void's false light.

"Thisss place… issn't real," Saphira hissed softly, eyes narrowing. "It'sss a trap."

"Yeah, figured." Verena exhaled slowly, scanning the empty expanse. "Dreamscape? Illusion magic? Something to keep me still… like…"

Her chest tightened.

…like her current reality.

The beast wasn't just trying to beat her physically. It wanted her stuck. Frozen. Paralyzed by indecision, self-doubt, and the gnawing fear that no matter how hard she fought, she'd lose everything anyway.

"Of course," Verena muttered. "Cosmic therapy session disguised as a boss fight. How subtle."

The floor rippled.

Her reflection changed.

It wasn't her.

It was Beatrice—surrounded by faceless men, eyes cold with disappointment.

Another ripple. Evelyn—hurt, distant.

Another. Clarina—frowning, walking away.

They kept shifting—every connection, every fragile relationship Verena had clung to, warping into reminders of how easily it could all crumble.

She clenched her fists.

The Zodiabeast's trick was obvious now: stillness wasn't physical. It was fear. Inaction. Letting doubt chain her down until the story—her story—passed her by.

Saphira coiled protectively around her wrist, scales pulsing faintly with borrowed constellations.

"You going to sit there and mope?" the snake asked dryly.

Verena smirked.

"Hell no."

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