[Reminder: Do Not Read]

The sky above Irasios shimmered with stars not yet named—residual energy from the collapsed false timeline scattering like glitter over a rewritten page. Below, in the softened silence of a world rescued, Verena stood at the highest tower of the restored Astrarium, watching the constellations realign.

She hadn't spoken much since their return. The others needed rest, needed celebration, needed time to hold each other and confirm they were still here. Still real. But Verena had come here alone, her cloak billowing in the cold wind as her thoughts raced louder than any crowd.

It was done, wasn't it?

Then why did her chest feel heavy?

Saphira coiled loosely around her shoulders. "You're doing that thing again," the snake said flatly.

"What thing?"

"The brooding. You always come up here when you're overwhelmed."

Verena didn't deny it. Her hand rested against the stone railing. "I don't know what comes next."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Saphira flicked her tongue. "You survived the trials, stopped a narrative collapse, rescued the heroines, shattered a godlike entity, and didn't die. That's... what, five wins?"

Verena's lips curved faintly. "It's not that simple."

"It never is. But it's over."

"No," she murmured. "Something still lingers. The Author may be gone, but the threads it twisted—those don't vanish overnight. The world's still cracked. I feel it. And I don't think it's done with me yet."

She didn't say it aloud, but she knew. Her system hadn't gone quiet. It hadn't disappeared. In fact, now more than ever, it seemed integrated with her soul. Not a crutch or a curse, but... a tool.

And tools had purpose.

Footsteps echoed behind her. She didn't turn. She didn't need to.

"I figured I'd find you here," Evelyn said, approaching with the quiet confidence she'd earned.

Verena glanced over. "You should be with the others."

"They're asleep. Beatrice passed out on top of Sera. Isolde's reading in bed. Penelope tried to sneak back to the training hall but Clarina locked her in." Evelyn paused. "And Vivienne asked me to bring you something."

She handed over a mug. Hot cocoa. With three marshmallows, just how Verena liked it.

Verena took it slowly. "Thanks."

Evelyn leaned beside her on the railing. "So. What now?"

"I don't know," Verena admitted. "We saved the world, sure. But the cracks left behind… I don't trust them. I think someone else will try to crawl through."

"Then we'll deal with it." Evelyn looked up at the stars. "Together."

There it was again. That unfamiliar word. Together.

She'd spent so long assuming this story demanded she carry everything alone. That, as the transmigrator, the one with meta-knowledge and a system, it was her burden.

But they had rewritten that too.

Verena sipped the cocoa. "The Trials are done. The semester's ending. I guess we get... peace."

"Until it breaks again."

Verena laughed softly. "Right."

Evelyn smiled at her. Not shy, not unsure. "I meant what I said, you know. About marrying you."

Verena choked on her cocoa.

"I said if I became confident," Evelyn added teasingly. "And I'm still working on it. But I want to keep my promises."

Verena stared at her. "You're not joking?"

"Nope."

"Well, I'll need a formal proposal," she said, hiding behind her mug.

"Deal."

They fell into silence again, but it was warmer now.

Below, the girls slept peacefully. The academy stirred quietly in the distance. No alarms. No glitches. Just the deep breath of a world allowed to dream again.

Verena turned to Saphira, who was suspiciously quiet.

"What?" she asked.

The snake yawned. "Nothing. Just wondering how long it'll be until you're dragged into another arc."

"Don't jinx it."

"Too late."

A sudden breeze swept past them, and with it came a faint shimmer across the stars—something subtle, something shifting.

Verena narrowed her eyes.

Oh no. Not again.

But this time... she was ready.

The shimmer in the stars didn't fade. Instead, it deepened—rippling like ink across parchment. A new shape, not one from the usual constellations, emerged overhead: thirteen points forming a circle, all pulsing with a slow, ominous rhythm.

Verena's grip on the railing tightened. "That's not normal."

Saphira uncoiled in an instant, her tongue flicking rapidly. "That's new. And it's not coming from this plane."

Evelyn took a cautious step forward, her earlier confidence turning into guarded curiosity. "Should we wake the others?"

"No," Verena said quickly. "Not yet. We don't even know what it is."

But they would. The system chimed—subtle, almost hesitant. A notification hovered in her peripheral vision, golden script on black.

[A New Arc Has Begun: The Hollow Crown]

Category: Unforeseen Expansion

Trigger: Unknown

Participants: Undefined

Risk Level: ???

Narrative Integrity: Compromised

She blinked. The system rarely ever displayed confusion, let alone question marks. Whatever this was, even the system couldn't classify it.

Evelyn was peeking at the notification over her shoulder. "Compromised?"

Verena nodded grimly. "Something's forcing its way into the narrative again. But this time, it didn't start from the academy."

Saphira hovered midair, her form tense. "Then it came from outside the written bounds. Off-script."

"From the void?" Evelyn asked.

"No." Verena's expression darkened. "From after."

They all went silent. Because that implication was terrifying.

If the Labyrinth Arc had ended—and this was a new one—then someone, or something, had skipped forward in the timeline. Past the safe recovery. Past the academy. And whatever it saw in that future, it didn't like.

Suddenly, the thirteen-point constellation in the sky collapsed inward, vanishing with a soundless ripple. In its place, a single vertical crack tore through the stars—black and sharp and bottomless.

A voice, distant and genderless, slithered through Verena's mind:

"Too many hands have touched this story. Now it's time to cut them off."

Saphira hissed, lunging toward the sky—but the crack sealed instantly, leaving behind a metallic aftertaste in the air. Verena rubbed her temple. It felt like her memories were rearranging themselves.

"What the hell was that?" Evelyn whispered.

Verena didn't answer at first. Her mind was spinning through the possibilities. This wasn't just a transmigrator or system interloper. This was something worse. Someone—or something—with enough power to reach into the narrative after its natural end and shove their will in.

"We need to get back to the others. Now," she said sharply. "This isn't a recovery arc. This is a reset attempt."

"Then we stop it," Evelyn said without hesitation.

Verena stared at her.

"I'm not joking," Evelyn continued, voice steady. "We already broke the rules once. Who says we can't do it again?"

That pulled a smirk from Verena. "You're getting dangerously cool these days."

"Part of my character development."

They hurried down from the tower, and by the time they reached the girls' dormitory, the air had shifted. Magic was taut, humming like a taut wire. The walls looked slightly off—paintings blinking, books whispering in reverse. Temporal echoes.

Clarina was already awake, sword drawn. "I saw it," she said simply. "That thing in the sky."

Penelope was behind her, sleep-mussed but alert. "Don't tell me we're back in the plot again."

"Worse," Verena muttered. "We might be in a sequel."

Sera barged into the room, half-dressed and fully annoyed. "Okay, what the hell is going on? I just got Beatrice to sleep—"

Beatrice, still in her blanket, peered from behind her. "We're not done, are we?"

Vivienne poked her head out of the bathroom, hair dripping. "Do we get a break or no?"

"No breaks," Verena said. "The story is continuing. But this time... it's fighting us back."

Isolde shut her book with a loud snap. "Then we remind it who the real authors are."

And for a moment, Verena believed it.

Because they weren't just pawns in someone else's arc anymore.

They were the rewrite.

The next morning, the sun rose blood-orange over Irasios Academy, as if the sky itself sensed the narrative shift. Students moved like ghosts, whispers threading through the halls about last night's vision in the stars. The faculty were on edge, their magic restrained, their eyes scanning cracks in reality they could barely perceive.

Verena stood at the center courtyard, flanked by Clarina and Evelyn. The others fanned out behind them, each of them ready—but unsure what they were ready for.

A loud chime echoed across campus. Not the usual school bell.

[Attention: Emergency Convocation]

All students are to report to the Astrarium Courtyard.

Absence will be considered defiance.

Penelope groaned. "Well, that's not creepy at all."

Beatrice gripped her staff. "It's starting, isn't it?"

No one answered.

They made their way to the courtyard—and found it filled with colorless projections. Students stood frozen, eyes vacant. Like they'd been paused mid-action. Even the professors.

Only a few were moving. The team. A scattered few upperclassmen. And one strange figure in the center, cloaked in pale gold, face hidden by a cracked porcelain mask shaped like a waning moon.

"You've overstayed your arc," the figure said, voice serene and echoing. "The world must turn. The reset begins now."

Verena stepped forward. "Then we're turning it back."

And the sky tore open again.

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