Amy's lungs burned as she sprinted down the obsidian corridor, the sounds of Iris's battle growing fainter behind her. Her mind raced faster than her feet, trying to process what she'd just witnessed.

Chaos creatures, small ones reminiscent of bugs, yet definitely of chaos origin.

She wanted to believe the barrier wasn't failing, that it was being circumvented somehow, that Abaddon had found a loophole. She truly wanted to believe that, because the other options would be catastrophic.

If somehow the big ones actually manage to get in already, they were as good as dead…

Bastard, she thought, her jaw clenching.

Honestly, it wasn't entirely unexpected that the psycho Grampa pulled it off; it was something that everyone had feared. He is a prophet after all. What was unexpected was the fact that he did it so damn fast. She didn't even get to the damn trial, and she was the first one.

A shitshow, that was what this was, a shitty damn show. The worst part is that it had to happen during her turn to take the trial. Should she go back or keep going? Maybe…

Without me, the others might—

Amy didn't have the time to finish the thought. A hiss cut through the hallway. She looked behind to see a relatively large quantity of insect-like creatures following her.

Out of instinct, she threw up her hand, and a golden barrier bloomed behind her. The next instant, something resembling black darts slammed into it.

"Shit…" she hissed under her breath.

Some creatures seemed to be getting past Iris. Obviously, there were simply too many.

Still, looking at the unscratched barrier, they were weak. Not like it mattered seeing the absurd quantity of them.

As she kept running, dozens of the small shadow-things poured out from cracks along the wall. They weren't just crawling—they were forming…? Could it be that those things were directly appearing inside the Academy?

Amy made a mental note to ponder the implications of it later. Right now, it truly wasn't the moment, not only because the bugs were slowly catching up, but also she soon realized that some small minority weren't coming from behind—they were cutting her off.

This is bad…

She didn't need her powers to tell her the way this was developing was in an awful direction.

And speaking of powers, right now truly wasn't the time to be saving her strength.

Her golden eyes began shining brightly, and information soon began pouring into her head. Reaching the trial preferably unharmed was her objective.

Luckily, despite using her ability numerous times today, it did not seem like blood or the usual dizziness was coming any time soon. Not that surprising considering the fact that it had augmented in 'level' thanks to the readers.

As she ran, her vision soon filled with golden cords. She didn't have the luxury of knowing what would happen, but she could make up an idea of how hard it would be to get there based on the difficulty of metaphorically pulling the cord, and this one was pretty hard, but not as hard as what she was used to by now.

"You'd better not fail me now," she muttered, then suddenly she threw herself sideways through a crooked doorframe half-embedded in the wall.

She had no idea of the meaning behind that action; she just followed what the pull on her head pointed her towards.

The door shouldn't have even fit there—half-embedded doors in the walls weren't very normal—so maybe she shouldn't have been as surprised when the moment she crossed it, gravity twisted sideways.

She landed on her feet—sort of—and nearly ran straight into a table nailed to the wall. Chairs hung in midair. A chandelier dangled sideways.

"What the fuck!" Amy breathed, bracing herself against the wall—or maybe the floor.

This nightmare was supposed to be the future, and only the future, right? Could this shit also happen in the actual Academy, like gravity changing and everything becoming obsidian? Because if so, she had a lot to think about once she got out of here.

"Alright, alright. Just think of it as just some fancy EPS class. You're fine, Amy. Totally fine."

A skittering sound echoed from behind. She looked at her pursuers on the ground trying to get to her, most without success, but a small number did manage to climb. Mostly those resembling spiders.

"Ewwwww!"

Without losing a single second more, Amy bolted again. Whatever her ability told her, she did. She leapt over chairs, ducked beneath floating doors, and slid across shifting tiles. Every few steps, she summoned shimmering barriers behind her—quick flashes of golden light that slowed the shadow-creatures but didn't stop them entirely.

They were faster. Or was she getting slower? Hard to tell. She could feel her stamina depleting slowly. Old Amy, without a doubt, would have collapsed by now.

As she kept running, a spider-like mass of twitching limbs, way bigger than all the others and with a lot of hair, jumped high and landed on the ceiling—or wall—right above her. Amy, following her power, had already thrown up a shield above her head just as it pounced.

However, contrary to all the others, this one somehow managed to stay there, attached to the other side of her shield and giving her what could probably be the worst view she had gotten in a long time.

The spider thing clung upside down to the top of her golden barrier, its mandibles scraping against the glowing surface, its legs twitching as black substance dripped down, sizzling faintly when it hit the barrier's surface.

And I thought Building B's nightmare was horrific!

Amy gagged as she kept running while occasionally looking at the creature.

And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, the thing started hissing, pressing harder against the shield and almost like vomiting black spiderwebs across it.

"Nope. Nope nope nope!" she yelled, half in disgust, half to drown out the sound. However, she could not ignore it forever, seeing as whatever that thing was doing, it was affecting the barrier. She could feel her mana diminishing faster thanks to it.

Thankfully, her ability came to the rescue.

Amy hesitated for a second, confused about what its intent was, but she soon followed. It was telling her to do something with the barrier, but it wasn't like moving her muscles or acting a certain way; it was way more abstract.

Without stopping running, she stretched her hand up and tried manipulating her power. After a couple of tries, her barrier reacted. It began folding and soon enveloped the spider.

What followed was something out of a horror movie as the monster shrieked while the bubble of light began constricting around it. The barrier wasn't just holding it anymore; it was closing in. Its legs thrashed wildly, hammering against the walls, but it could do nothing to stop it.

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The spider's hissing turned into an unearthly squeal—then a sharp, wet crunch. The golden sphere flashed once and imploded into a spark of light, leaving behind nothing but a smear of black goop floating in the air, which fell to the ground as she stopped applying mana.

Amy's chest heaved, and it wasn't only because of running.

That is new… and very err…

She promised herself that from this moment on, she would never do that ever again, no matter what.

The promise didn't last long. Not even twenty seconds after, a rat-like creature did the same exact thing the spider did and ended in the exact same way.

In a perfect world, she would have at least a second to get over what the hell she just witnessed, but obviously, this world was anything but perfect.

The wall—or ground—was starting to get pretty crowded, not only from behind but also ahead, forcing Amy to be using her barrier constantly and spending mana at an alarming rate. She wouldn't last long at this rate.

Her ability seemingly took notice of her precarious situation as it flared again, making her attention snap towards various furniture either on the ceiling or the opposing wall.

She first focused on a chandelier hanging sideways from what should have been the ceiling. Without thinking, Amy leaped, grabbing onto it and using the momentum to swing herself toward a floating chair.

She landed on the seat—barely—then immediately vaulted off it toward a table that was somehow standing perpendicular to everything else. Her boots found purchase for exactly half a second before she was moving again, following the golden thread.

A bookshelf blocked her path. Amy didn't slow down. She ran up it like it was a ladder, using the protruding spines as footholds. At the top, she pushed off hard, twisting in midair to avoid a cluster of beetle-like creatures swarming from a crack in the... floor? Wall? Whatever orientation that surface was supposed to be.

Jump. Grab. Swing. Land. Roll. Jump again.

Her body moved almost on autopilot now, guided by her ability's precise instructions. Every movement flowed into the next with fluidity that would have been impossible to achieve a month prior—actually, even a week before this would have been pretty hard. She had gotten so much more used to her ability that it was almost scary how much better she was now.

Behind her, the creatures continued their pursuit, but her efforts, as exhausting as they were, were definitely working. They could climb, sure, but they couldn't predict the path her power was carving through this impossible space.

Libris should be seeing this, she thought as she vaulted over a chandelier and landed in a perfect crouch on what might have been a ceiling. This is actually kind of badass.

The thought of her sleeping companion sent a pang through her chest, but the adrenaline swallowed it almost immediately. No time for that. She had to keep moving.

Another door appeared in her path—this one thankfully properly oriented. Amy didn't hesitate in following her power's instruction. She sprinted toward it, summoning one last barrier behind her as she crossed the threshold.

Gravity changed on her again.

Amy stumbled as the world shifted, her stomach lurching at the sudden change. What she believed was the obsidian floor was beneath her feet, where it should be. The walls were vertical. The ceiling was above her…hopefully.

Am I back to normal, or… actually, it doesn't matter.

She wheezed, catching herself against the wall, then once again started running. There was no time to lose. The skittering sounds were already echoing from the doorway behind her. She could see the mass of creatures flowing through, just like her, adjusting to the new orientation with disturbing ease.

The corridor straightened out ahead of her—actually straightened out, no more floating furniture or sideways gravity. She could see it now, maybe fifty meters away.

A hall with faint blue light coming from it. She was almost there.

Her legs burned. Her lungs screamed. Her mana reserves were dangerously low from all the barriers she'd been throwing up. But she pushed harder, forcing every last bit of speed from her exhausted body.

The hall was getting closer, but something was wrong. The walls, the floor, the ceiling—everything was moving. No, not moving. Writhing.

Amy's sprint faltered as the full scope of what she was seeing hit her.

The place that had at some point been filled with blue light wasn't just occupied by chaos creatures.

It was full of them.

Every surface was covered in a seething mass of shadow-insects. They crawled over each other in layers so thick she couldn't see the obsidian underneath. All seven of the doors were barely visible beneath the coating of black bugs.

The sound was worse than the sight. A constant chittering, clicking, hissing noise that made her face contort.

"No," she whispered, her feet slowing to a stop at the entrance to the hall. "No, no, no— that's disgusting! Moreover, my barrier is almost gone."

Her ability flared urgently, yanking at her consciousness with an intensity she'd found more insistent than usual.

Straight through, it seemed to say. Go straight through.

Amy stared at the mass of creatures, then down at her hands. She could feel her mana reserves—low, but not empty. Enough for one big push. Maybe.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

The golden thread in her mind pulled harder, more insistent.

Straight through. With the barrier. Now.

The creatures behind her were getting closer, with some even already here, attacking the small barrier she created between them without any success.

Amy looked at the seething mass ahead, then at her trembling hands, then back at the mass, which now was also coming towards her.

"Libris would have so many sarcastic comments about this," she said to no one, trying to steady her breathing. "Probably something about reconsidering my priorities."

The thread pulled again, almost painful in its urgency.

"Alright, alright," Amy snarled, channeling every last bit of her remaining mana into a barrier around herself.

The golden shield flared, coating her in a sphere of light.

Amy took a deep breath.

Then she ran straight into the writhing mass.

The sensation was indescribable. The barrier held—barely—but she could feel the creatures pressing against it from all sides. Their mandibles scraped against the golden surface, their bodies crushed and reformed, their black ichor sprayed and dissolved.

She could barely see and hear anything; it was dark, with only the sound of chittering and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She couldn't breathe. Or maybe she was breathing too fast. Hard to tell when every instinct was screaming at her to turn back.

But her ability guided her; even when practically blind, she followed that golden thread.

Left. Forward. Right. Left. Forward. Forward. Forward. Forward, not 'right' dumbass! Forward.

As she was getting close to reaching her limits, something gave way. Amy stumbled forward, and suddenly the pressure released.

She fell to her knees, gasping, her barrier flickering and dying as her mana finally bottomed out. Her whole body shook, and for a moment she thought she might actually vomit.

With panic, she looked back, then confusion seized her as she realized the insects weren't following her into this space. It was as if a barrier, just like hers, but invisible, separated them from where she now knelt.

Amy forced herself to look away and instead turned herself forward.

Seven doors stood before her, each one distinct in design. And directly ahead, the one her ability was pointing toward. It was a door of simple wood painted yellow with a brass handle, completely clear of creatures.

"Okay," she breathed, pushing herself to her feet on shaking legs. "Okay. I made it— Fuck…"

She considered for a second just sitting there to catch her breath, but the creatures behind her were a very good motivator to keep walking. Moreover, the door waited.

Amy walked toward it, due to her exhaustion, each step feeling heavier than the last. Her hand reached for the brass handle.

She paused, looking back at the mass of creatures coating the hall's entrance. Somewhere beyond them, Iris was fighting. The others were preparing defenses. Crow lay unconscious, tied to a semi-failing shield against certain death.

Did she make the right choice? Should she have gone back instead of forward? Can they deal with this mess without her?

It didn't matter; now she could only trust them.

A shitshow, really. An absolute shitshow.

"I'll be back," she promised quietly. "Just... give me a few minutes to deal with whatever psychological torture is waiting behind this door."

The Goddess's words suddenly came back as her hand pressed against the handle. They had ingrained her mind unnaturally strongly, almost as if magic was used.

"I'll see you again. Sooner than you think. I've prepared something special for you in the Library during the personal trials. I wonder if you'll thank me or curse me when you face it."

Amy bit her lip, then shook her head. Then, with a resolute expression, she focused back on the door.

Whatever it was, she would take it.

She tightened her grip on the handle and pushed.

Light spilled out instantly, almost blinding her.

The cool air hit her second, a gentle breeze brushing against her sweat-soaked skin. Then warmth was sudden and overwhelming, just like the light.

But not unpleasant. If anything, it was… agreeable.

Her eyes took a second but soon adjusted to the light, and the first thing they noticed in front of her, below, wasn't the obsidian ground, nor mud, or any other kind she was used to seeing.

It was asphalt.

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