The corridor twisted as they walked, warping space with every step. This wasn't just magic—it was narrative dissonance, the pressure of two realities trying to overwrite one another. Evelyn glanced back and saw the ground behind them ripple like water. The path was closing.

"We can't turn back," she said, her voice firmer than usual. "Not anymore."

Verena nodded once. "We wouldn't even if we could."

Sera's Dreamgate pulsed ahead—a jagged arch of crimson and violet light jutting out from the fractured wall like a wound. Unlike Evelyn's balanced portal or Beatrice's elegant mirror, Sera's was chaotic. The edges bled color. The air smelled faintly of copper and ash.

"Sera always saw herself as the fighter," Clarina muttered. "But she was never meant to stand alone."

Beatrice glanced at her. "She was prideful."

"She was scared," Evelyn added quietly.

No one disagreed.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the world screamed.

They were thrown into a city of shattered steel and glass towers, overrun with creeping vines, ash storms, and crimson skies. The sun had been torn open—its light leaking out in angry streaks like it was bleeding. Shadow creatures writhed through the broken streets, some faceless, some wearing masks that looked eerily like Sera's expression when she smiled too wide.

Sera's dream wasn't a fantasy.

It was a warzone.

A distorted voice echoed through the smog. "You always think I need saving."

Then a shriek tore through the air—one of the monsters had noticed them.

It lunged.

Clarina stepped forward, blade already in hand. With a clean arc, she split it in two, but it melted into the ground, re-forming into twin copies that darted toward Evelyn.

Verena was faster. She surged forward, her spear spiraling with constellated light, punching a hole through both shades before they reached. She didn't speak. She hadn't spoken much since they left Beatrice's gate.

Beatrice raised a glowing hand, channeling Arcane Law to keep the ground beneath them stable. "She's not hiding from us," she said, scanning the horizon. "She wants us to see this."

A burst of flame exploded in the distance, followed by a streak of red lightning.

"There," Evelyn pointed. "That's her."

Sera stood atop a crumbling skyscraper, her body wrapped in bloodred fire, her stance wild—half warrior, half beast. Her eyes were glowing, and her clothes were scorched and tattered. She looked like someone who had been fighting for years.

Or someone who didn't know how to stop.

"I'm not going back," Sera screamed. Her voice tore through the city like thunder. "I don't want to be your burden. I don't want to be saved!"

The world reacted to her fury—buildings trembled, storms cracked open above them.

Evelyn stepped forward, heart pounding. "Sera, you were never a burden—"

Sera hurled a spear of flame directly at her.

Clarina deflected it just in time, her stance unflinching. "She's not listening."

"No," Verena said sharply, eyes narrowing. "She's being rewritten."

For a moment, they all understood. This wasn't just Sera's dream. It was someone—or something—taking her worst fears, her guilt, and weaponizing it against her. Just like Evelyn's sense of passivity had made her gate a quiet void, and Beatrice's pride had turned hers into a hall of illusions, Sera's refusal to be helped had turned her dream into an unending war she had to fight alone.

"She's losing herself," Beatrice whispered.

Verena's grip tightened. "Then we take her back."

A sudden surge of shadow erupted from the ground, separating them. Giant cracks opened, pushing Evelyn and Clarina to one side and Verena with Beatrice to another. Sera raised her hand from the skyscraper, manipulating the battlefield like a god.

"You always follow," she snarled, eyes locked on Evelyn. "Why can't you just let me go?"

Evelyn clenched her fists. "Because I don't want to lose you again."

Sera froze for just a breath—but it was enough.

Clarina leapt onto the wreckage, scaling the building with inhuman grace, drawing closer. "You always ran from kindness, Sera," she called. "But even a blade dulls alone."

Sera howled and launched herself from the top, flaming fists aimed at Clarina.

They clashed midair—steel against fire, memory against delusion.

Meanwhile, Verena and Beatrice fought their way back through the collapsing cityscape, clearing shade after shade. Beatrice's voice rang like a bell as she cast a stabilizing sigil across the dream-layer. "If we lose her here, she'll be rewritten entirely."

Verena nodded, her gaze tracking Sera's movements. "Then let's burn the script."

With a final push, Clarina disarmed Sera mid-fall, slamming her into a crumbling platform. Evelyn ran forward, dropping beside her, breath shallow.

Sera blinked up at her. "Why do you care?"

"Because you saved me," Evelyn whispered. "Back when I didn't think I was worth saving."

The city shook. The shadows cracked.

Sera looked at her hands.

And then she began to cry.

The tears didn't fall quietly. Sera sobbed like something inside her had finally broken loose—a dam cracked open after years of pressure, pride, and pain. Her fire sputtered around her like dying embers, flickering in the choking wind of her war-torn dreamscape. The sky above them dimmed, losing its red hue. The world stilled.

"I didn't want to be left behind," she whispered. "So I ran forward. I thought… if I kept running, no one could abandon me."

Evelyn didn't flinch. She stayed by her side, grounded and solid. "You were never behind. We just didn't know how to walk with you yet."

Sera let out a strangled laugh, shoulders trembling. "I thought I had to be strong. That the only way people would stay was if they needed me. That if I broke, you'd all leave."

"You idiot," Clarina said, stepping close, voice uncharacteristically rough. She knelt and pulled Sera into a firm, warrior's embrace. "You think we stayed because you were useful?"

Sera clutched her arm like a lifeline.

Beatrice finally reached them, hair singed, breathing hard. "You always screamed the loudest, but none of us ever heard what you were really saying."

Verena stepped behind her, shadows of their battles clinging to her clothes. "Because you never let yourself speak it."

The skyscraper beneath them groaned. The dreamscape shuddered once more, but this time it wasn't attacking—it was shedding. The twisted ruins of the city crumbled into golden dust, rising into the air like fireflies. The bloodred sun dimmed into a pale pink orb. The flames licked gently at the edges of reality, no longer furious—just tired.

Sera closed her eyes.

"Then… let me rest. Just for a little while."

Evelyn caught her as she sagged forward, holding her like one would hold a sister fallen from war. The Dreamgate behind them shifted, losing its jagged edges. It pulsed gently, offering a way out.

They stepped through it together.

—---

Back in the Old Wing of Irasios Academy, the third and final Dreamgate closed behind them. The corrupted magic that had made the halls inconsistent and hostile began to recede, the fractures in the walls sealing with slow, radiant threads. The tower no longer screamed. It sighed.

Sera lay curled beside Evelyn, asleep but no longer tormented. Her breathing was steady. Her face was calm.

Clarina stood watch beside them, blade across her lap, silent.

Beatrice traced sigils across the ground, re-anchoring the dream-bound threads of their world.

Verena paced nearby, speaking softly to her familiar, Saphira, whose astral form coiled like mist around her ankles.

"She'll wake up soon," Beatrice said at last.

Verena nodded. "Then we need to be ready."

"For what?" Clarina asked.

Verena turned, golden eyes hard.

"They were testing us. Each gate was built off our weaknesses—but they weren't random. Someone is using the heroines to alter the core narrative threads of this world. They're trying to overwrite us."

Evelyn stirred slightly but didn't wake.

"We stabilized Beatrice's pride," Verena continued, "and Evelyn's passivity. Now Sera's fear of abandonment. But the gates weren't meant just to trap them. They were rewiring what their roles meant in this story."

Clarina's fingers tightened around her blade. "If someone rewrites the heroines…"

"They rewrite the world," Beatrice finished grimly. "They become gods by proxy."

Saphira hissed softly, and Verena's gaze darkened.

"And that means," she said, voice low and quiet like thunder, "there's one more gate."

They all froze.

"But… there were only three heroines taken," Clarina murmured.

Beatrice stood slowly. "No. There were four. One of them just didn't realize it."

Everyone turned.

Their eyes landed on Evelyn.

Still unconscious. Still unaware.

Clarina stepped forward, cautious. "You think Evelyn…?"

Verena didn't look away. "She's always been a heroine. Just not the kind written in the script. Her gate didn't end. It's still open—just hidden."

Beatrice's mouth set in a thin line. "A gate that doesn't close means a tether still exists. A corruption still lingering."

Verena stared at Evelyn, then whispered something none of them expected.

"She's the anchor."

Silence.

Sera stirred in her sleep and clutched Evelyn's sleeve.

Clarina broke the tension with a bitter breath. "Then the final trial isn't a rescue mission."

Beatrice shook her head. "It's a choice."

Verena nodded.

"And Evelyn's the one who has to make it."

Evelyn's eyes fluttered open.

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