The East Tower's gardens were simultaneously everything Amy had anticipated and nothing like she'd imagined. Their meticulously maintained grounds matched her expectations perfectly. What she found odd, however, was how utterly ordinary everything appeared.

“I was so sure I would find exotic plants or magical-looking structures that served no purpose at all, randomly placed everywhere...”

[Your view of this world has truly been tainted by the Academy… Maybe we should go out some day.]

As she approached the central pavilion where the tea thingy was supposed to happen, she found her path blocked by a woman in a crisp maid's uniform. The woman's expression was polite but firm, her posture perfect as she observed Amy from above with watchful eyes.

"Miss Stake, I presume?" the woman asked, her tone professional but rigid.

"Yes, that's me." Amy nodded, putting a polite smile on her face.

"A pleasure. I am Madame Elise, attendant to the Gaspard family." The woman said while offering a small bow. "Master Zayd is currently waiting for you."

“I see.”

“...”

“...”

So…are we going…?

"Your attire is… I suppose the school uniform is sufficient, though not ideal for formal tea. Have you been instructed in the proper protocols for dining?"

"Uh... no?"

The maid's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "I see. This is... irregular."

I have no time for this.

"Professor Kaelen specifically requested my presence. Should I inform him there's been a complication?"

The name drop had the desired effect. Madame Elise's posture stiffened slightly, though her expression remained neutral.

"That won't be necessary." The maid stepped aside. "Please, follow me. I will provide basic instruction as we walk."

As they traversed the garden path toward the pavilion, Madame Elise rattled off a dizzying array of rules; how to hold the teacup (pinky down, never up), how many sips to take before setting it down (never more than three), which foods could be eaten with fingers versus forks (apparently a matter of grave social importance).

Somebody help! I can’t do this anymore!

"—and remember, direct questions about Gaspard’s traditions are considered impolite," the maid continued. "Master Zayd may volunteer such information if he wishes, but you should not inquire."

Amy nodded along, retaining perhaps ten percent of the information while her mind whirled with more pressing concerns– like how to ask Kaelen's questions in a way that would completely undermine whatever he was plotting.

She did not want to change the questions. She was scared that he had a way of confirming if she had manipulated them. She doubted Kaelen wouldn't have thought of something like that.

To be honest, she was just planning to use her ability to tell her what to do. But something about that strategy (if it could be called that) felt too easy, like it wouldn’t work. Or if it did, it would have some negative effects in the near future. Yet, she really wasn’t in the mood for thinking, so ability it was.

"One last thing," Madame Elise said as they approached the pavilion. "Under no circumstances should you mention Master Zayd's relatives."

Amy blinked, her attention snapping back to the present. "His family? Why not?"

The maid's expression froze, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It is... not discussed." She paused at the pavilion entrance, scrutinizing Amy once more. "Perhaps this was a mistake. Master Zayd rarely entertains guests. If you are unprepared—"

"I'll be fine," Amy interrupted, really wanting to get this done already. "I appreciate your guidance, Madame Elise."

The maid hesitated, clearly unconvinced. For a moment, Amy thought she might actually be turned away, which would have been a convenient escape from this whole situation now that she thought about it.

But before Madame Elise could make her decision, a calm voice spoke from within the pavilion.

"Elise. Miss Stake is expected."

A dark-haired boy, Zayd Gaspard, sat at an elegant table near the pavilion's edge, a book open before him and a steaming cup of tea at his elbow. He looked up, his eyes finding Amy's.

"Thank you for your diligence, as always, but your intrusions are less than necessary" he added to the maid, who bowed.

"Master Zayd, if I'm permitted to—"

"Elise..." Zays sounded exhausted for some reason as he said her name.

The maid bit her lip, but did not protest further. "As you wish, Master Zayd." she said as stepped aside, though the concern in her eyes remained evident as Amy passed.

Zayd closed his book as Amy approached, rising with fluid grace to gesture toward the chair opposite his.

"Forgive her Miss Stake, she's just too overprotective... Please, be seated."

Amy took the offered chair, setting her satchel carefully beside her. "Thank you for... having me?" She winced internally at how awkward that sounded.

A slight smile touched Zayd's lips as he retook his seat. "I must admit, I was somewhat surprised when my uncle informed me you had requested this meeting."

Ah, so that's how Kaelen framed it. Making it seem like her idea. Typical.

"Well, after our class exercise yesterday, I had some questions," Amy improvised. "Professor Kaelen suggested you might be willing to discuss them."

Zayd's expression remained neutral, but something flickered briefly in his amber eyes—skepticism, perhaps, or curiosity.

"I see." He gestured to the tea kettle between them. "May I pour for you?"

Amy nodded, remembering Madame Elise's instructions just in time to avoid committing some horrible tea-related faux pas.

As Zayd prepared her cup with practiced movements, Amy reached out cautiously with her ability, seeking insight into how best to proceed. The familiar strain built behind her eyes almost immediately, not as bad as she expected but still annoying, focusing on a specific path: How can I ask him Kaelen's questions in a way that completely undermines whatever he's plotting?

The answer came in fragments—impressions more than clear instructions. She saw Zayd's face, surprised but intrigued. Felt the ambiance of casual conversation rather than formal interrogation. Glimpsed multiple answers to each question rather than a single, directed response.

The meaning confused her. Was her ability telling her to make the conversation casual…? But that made no sense. Isn’t that exactly what Kaelen wanted? Why would a casual approach undermine his plans? It seemed counterintuitive.

Nevertheless, she'd learned to trust her ability after that whole nightmare thing, even when its guidance confused her.

"This garden is beautiful," Amy said, accepting the teacup and taking a moment to appreciate the surrounding foliage. "Do you spend a lot of time out here?"

Zayd seemed momentarily surprised by the casual question. "When weather permits. I find the East Tower gardens particularly conducive to reading."

"I can see why. It's peaceful," Amy replied, taking a sip of the fragrant tea. "What were you reading before I arrived?"

"A treatise on theoretical applications of divination in agricultural planning," he answered, a hint of genuine enthusiasm warming his typically reserved demeanor. "Less exciting than it sounds, perhaps."

"Actually, that sounds pretty interesting," Amy said, not even lying, she was legit curious. "Using visions to predict crop yields and weather patterns?"

Zayd's eyebrows rose slightly. "You have an interest in practical divination applications?"

"I'm interested in how different abilities work in real-world contexts," Amy shrugged, settling into the conversation. "The Academy focuses so much on theory sometimes."

"A refreshingly pragmatic perspective," Zayd nodded, seeming to relax fractionally. "Many students are enthralled by the more dramatic aspects of divination."

Amy took another sip of tea. "Speaking of which, I've been curious about something ever since our class exercise," she began, deliberately keeping her tone light and conversational. "Professor Kaelen mentioned that seers often have blind spots when it comes to themselves. It made me wonder, have you ever tried to see your own future?"

She paired the question with a bite of a small pastry from the tray between them, as if it were merely idle curiosity rather than the loaded question Kaelen had intended.

Zayd's amber eyes widened slightly. He set his teacup down with careful precision.

"...an interesting first question," he said after a moment. "Most people start with something more conventional."

Amy shrugged, affecting nonchalance.

A slight smile touched Zayd's lips. He leaned back in his chair, considering. "To answer your question: yes, I have tried. Most seers do, at some point."

He paused, seeming to deliberate on how much to share. "The results are... unreliable at best. Self-observation creates a kind of feedback loop. The very act of seeing alters what you're trying to see."

"That makes sense," Amy nodded, genuinely interested despite herself. "When you tried, did you see anything useful?"

"Fragments," Zayd replied after another moment of consideration. "Glimpses of potential moments, disconnected from context. Some have come to pass, others haven't—at least not yet… My uncle believes this limitation stems from emotional involvement. That we cannot see ourselves clearly because we're too invested in the outcome."

Amy took another sip of tea, thinking about how to naturally introduce the next question.

"That reminds me of something I've been thinking about lately. After what happened in Building B, I've been dwelling on past mistakes…” she said, wincing at the honesty in her voice. “Decisions I might have made differently. Do you ever do that? If you could change one moment in your past, would you?"

Zayd froze momentarily, so briefly that Amy might have missed it if she hadn't been watching carefully. When he spoke, his voice had a measured quality that suggested he was choosing his words with extreme care.

"I believe..." he began slowly, "that question contains several assumptions worth examining."

“...And what might those assumptions be?”

"First," Zayd responded, "it presumes our past contains definitive moments that, if altered, would significantly change our present. Second, it assumes we can accurately identify which moments those are. And third, it suggests change itself is desirable."

What…? I didn’t say all that. What is this guy talking about?

"To answer more directly," Zayd sighed, "I would change many moments and none at all. Each experience, however painful, has shaped who I am. To reject any part is to reject the whole." He paused, studying her face intently. "But I suspect that's not what you're really asking."

“...”

"You were asking whether I believe regret is useful," Zayd replied. "Whether examining our past choices serves any purpose beyond torment."

[...your superpower is back at work, I see. I wonder if it’s because you try to act mysterious and all that, that things like these keep happening.]

Not this shit again…

Amy contained a sigh and just decided to roll with it. "And does it? Serve a purpose, I mean."

"Only if it informs future action," Zayd said. "Reflection without adaptation is merely indulgent suffering."

He reached for the teapot, refilling both their cups with graceful precision. As he poured, Amy noticed a barely perceptible tremor in his hands, the first real crack in his composed facade.

Dude, I haven’t done anything! What is he trembling for??

"What about you, Miss Stake?" he asked, redirecting the conversation. "What moment would you change, if you could?"

Amy considered the question, wondering if she should just make something up. But honestly, it did not look like there was a need to lie, so she just thought deeply about what to answer for a few seconds.

"...I'd be kinder…" she said simply, surprising even herself.

“I see."

Amy suddenly realized she'd let her guard down more than intended. She scrambled mentally for a way to introduce the third question without making it obvious they were following a script.

"Speaking of change," she said, reaching for a small cake, "there's something I've been debating with myself since Professor Kaelen's lecture. He made it sound like fate is this immovable force, like we're all just following predetermined paths. But that seems..." She frowned, pretending to search for the right word. "Limiting? Do you believe fate can be changed? Or are we just puppets acting out a script?"

Zayd's expression shifted subtly, a tightening around the eyes, a slight tension in his jaw. For a long moment, he didn't respond at all.

"An innocuous question," he said finally, his tone carefully neutral. "Yet it touches on the central controversy within divination. Orthodox practitioners—my family included—maintain that fate flows like a river. We may navigate its currents, but we cannot fundamentally alter its course. Others argue..." He trailed off, his gaze drifting toward the garden beyond the pavilion.

"Others argue?" Amy prompted when the silence stretched too long.

Zayd refocused on her, something unreadable in his expression. "Others argue that free will exists precisely to challenge fate's supremacy. That consciousness itself represents a form of rebellion against predetermined paths."

…is he talking about the tribe of Onyx…? The big bad guys?

"And what do you believe, Zayd?" Amy pressed gently.

His black eyes met hers directly. "I believe," he said slowly, "that orthodoxy often confuses tradition with truth. And that the most dangerous ideas are the ones we're discouraged from examining."

[Are you even aware of what you just changed…? That ability is too overpowered. If it wasn’t because it has somewhat of a passive use, I would have nerfed it long ago… ]

“???”

Before Amy could think about the book’s words or ask another question, a sharp voice cut through the peaceful atmosphere of the pavilion.

"How enervating."

Professor Kaelen stood at the garden entrance, his dark eyes fixed on Amy with unmistakable displeasure.

"Uncle," Zayd's eyes slowly widened before understanding crossed his features. "I wasn't aware you'd be joining us."

"Clearly." Kaelen's thin lips pressed into a disapproving line as he approached. His gaze never left Amy as he added, "I find myself surprised, Miss Stake. You've proven more... competent than planned. I underestimated you."

The words sent an unexpected chill down Amy's spine. Not a compliment – a suspicion.

Wait, has he been hearing this whole time? How…?

"I'm... not sure what you mean, Professor," Amy replied carefully.

"Indeed." Kaelen's voice carried a coldness that made the hair on Amy's arms stand up. "I wonder who exactly provided you with guidance for this conversation."

Zayd's brow furrowed. "Uncle, I fail to see—"

"Do you?" Kaelen turned his attention to his nephew finally, his dark eyes narrowing. "Perhaps I should have been more explicit in my instructions. To both of you."

Amy glanced between the two Gaspards, noting the subtle shift in Zayd's posture—from relaxed to alert, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for confrontation.

"Instructions?" Zayd repeated, his tone deceptively light. "I wasn't aware this meeting had a purpose beyond social courtesy."

Kaelen's lips thinned further. "Don't pretend naivety, Zayd. It doesn't suit you."

"And cryptic manipulation doesn't suit you, Uncle. Yet here we are."

Amy felt herself fading into the background as the tension between the two men intensified.

Should I be watching this…?

"You're becoming reckless," Kaelen said to Zayd, his voice lowered. "Questioning traditions that have sustained our family for generations."

"I'm examining assumptions," Zayd corrected. "As any proper practitioner should."

"There's a difference between examination and rejection."

"Is there? Or is that just what we tell ourselves to avoid confronting uncomfortable truths?"

“Insolent brat. Watch yourself," Kaelen warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your diversions are getting bolder by the day. The Family is starting to become concerned."

Zayd's expression remained carefully composed, but Amy caught the slight tightening of his hands on the table's edge.

"So you were spying on me for this, right? And what have you concluded?" he asked evenly.

"That remains to be seen." Kaelen's dark gaze flicked briefly to Amy before returning to his nephew. "Though today's demonstration has not inspired confidence."

Amy had the distinct impression she was witnessing something deeply personal—a conversation laden with subtext she couldn't fully comprehend. Whatever game Kaelen was playing, it clearly involved Zayd in ways she hadn't anticipated.

Why am I being involved in their family quarrel? How did this happen? How did we get here…? Can I go???

"If you're questioning my abilities, Uncle, perhaps we should discuss this more directly," Zayd suggested, rising smoothly from his chair. "Without involving guests in family matters."

The implied dismissal was clear.

Thank god.

Amy took the cue, gathering her satchel and rising as well.

"Thank you for the tea," she said to Zayd, keeping her tone neutral. "It was illuminating."

Zayd inclined his head slightly. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Stake."

As Amy turned to leave, Kaelen's cold voice stopped her. "A word of advice, Miss Stake," he said, his dark eyes boring into hers. "Be cautious about the company you keep. Some alliances, once formed, cannot be broken without... consequences."

I have no idea what you're talking about.

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor."

She left the pavilion with measured steps, resisting the urge to break into a run the moment she was out of sight. Only when she'd put significant distance between herself and the East Tower did she finally exhale, her shoulders slumping with released tension.

[Well. That was nice.]

"What the hell just happened back there!? Why did my ability tell me to ask those questions casually? Wouldn't that be exactly what Kaelen wanted?"

[Mmm… I suppose now that it's over, I can tell you. What your ability told you to do was precisely the opposite of what he wanted. Remember his lecture today?]

"About divination?"

[Specifically, about conscious interference. "When a sufficiently powerful will deliberately alters the course of fate—especially if that individual possesses their own form of divination—it can create blind spots in prophetic sight."]

Amy frowned. "What does that have to do with—"

[Kaelen wasn't simply having you ask questions. He was setting a trap for both you and Zayd.]

"A trap? How?"

[By manipulating you to act exactly like an agent of the Tribe of Onyx would.]

Amy stopped walking abruptly. "What?"

[Think about it. The Tribe of Onyx is known for using scripted, formal ways of talking to recruit their members. They believe in strict protocols for communicating with seers. By having you ask those specific questions in that exact order, with the weight and gravity such questions deserve, Kaelen was making you look like their agent—or at least someone influenced by them. And to be honest, he kind of managed. He was very much doubting your identity until Kaelen arrived.]

"That manipulative bastard!" Amy hissed, fury rising in her. "He was setting me up!"

[Precisely. And by changing Zayd's perception of you, he was attempting to uncover something about Zayd in the future. Just as he explained in class: using divination to change the details between fixed points.]

Amy's mind raced, connecting the pieces. "So when I asked the questions casually, mixed in with other conversation..."

[Your questions were the same that Kaeleen wanted, but the delivery was incorrect, and let's just say that Zayd is deeply knowgeable about the tribe of Onyx protocol. At first he thought you were one, but later on started to doubt as it seemed you were violating one of their rules. Eventually, he reached the conclusion that you had another objective by asking these questions.]

"So if it wasn’t for my ability… So overpowered…"

[I agree. If only we could say the same thing about your mastery.]

Amy shook her head in disbelief. "That scheming, manipulative—"

She was interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Madame Elise approaching with brisk efficiency.

"Miss Stake," the maid called, slightly out of breath. "A moment, please."

Amy tensed, wondering if this was another part of Kaelen's machinations. "Yes?"

Madame Elise glanced around, ensuring they were alone, before pressing a small folded note into Amy's hand. "From Master Zayd," she said quietly. "He insisted it be delivered immediately."

Before Amy could respond, the maid had already turned and was walking swiftly back toward the pavilion.

Amy looked down at the note in her hand, carefully unfolding it:

"Tell Crow I know what you're planning regarding the Eastern Wing. I can help. I’ll go with you when the time arrives. —Z"

Amy stared at the note, dumbfounded.

“How does he know…?”

[His fate is intertwined with the protagonist, so he probably stumbled upon the information by coincidence, all provoked by Fate, of course. It’s the plot kind of telling him, “You have been absent from the manga for far too long. Get your ass in here.” I assume it will be explained in the new chapter.]

“...is fate just another way people refer to the plot…?”

[Yes and no. Either way, this doesn’t concern you that much; you aren’t bound by fate and can change and navigate it with your overpowered ability. Instead of worrying about these things, you should focus on what’s immediate. Do you trust him to come with you?]

Amy folded the note carefully and slipped it into her pocket. "I don't know," she admitted. "But what I do know is that things are evolving way too fast."

She quickened her pace, moving toward a secluded bench beneath a large oak tree where she could talk aloud without the risk of anybody overhearing.

"Have you noticed how much the storyline has shifted already?" Amy asked once she was seated. "First, Kaelen wasn't even in the original manga until we arrived. Then we voted to go through the Headmaster's office instead of the main entrance to reach the Eastern Wing (my fault really)... and now Zayd wants to help us? None of this happened in the original story..."

[Stories adapt when new elements are introduced. You're a significant variable.]

"Yeah, but the problem is that soon I’ll have no idea what's coming anymore." Amy ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I will basically be walking blind into the plot; my weak powers cannot make up for real future knowledge... I need to do something about it."

She tapped her fingers against the bench, thinking. "What if... what if I made the readers believe I can actually see far into the future? Like, way beyond what normal seers can do? Most of them already suspect I have some kind of unusual foresight ability."

[Negative.]

"Why not? It would be super useful."

[Because that would be catastrophically overpowered when combined with your existing abilities. Your likability isn’t high enough for me to allow this power. I would have to nerf it so severely it would be useless. There's a delicate balance to maintain.]

Amy crossed her arms, pouting slightly. "Fine. Just trying to problem-solve here."

She gazed up at the tree branches, watching the dappled sunlight filter through the leaves. A casual thought drifted through her mind.

"You know what would be cool, though? If I could use you as a medium." She glanced down at her satchel. "Like, what if I made the readers believe that in addition to my ability, I can see far into the future by using you, basically circumventing the whole too overpowered problem? Like a magical artifact that shows visions when used correctly."

[I remember that someone came up with this theory already. Why are you talking like it’s yours?]

Amy rolled her eyes. “Will it work or nah? Answer.”

Libris remained unexpectedly silent.

Amy frowned at the lack of immediate snarky response. "Libris?"

More silence.

"Wait..." she leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Is that... actually possible?"

[I can’t be too overpowered either…]

"Holy shit!" Amy's eyes widened. "It really is possible!"

[I hope the Goddess is alright with this much…]

"I've actually been thinking about this for a while. I'm too weak on my own. And this weakness has cost me…” Her mind flickered toward the ritual– before she forced it to focus. “I've been way too passive about manipulating the readers, just reacting to events instead of directing them."

[What exactly are you suggesting?]

"A more direct approach." Amy's eyes gleamed with new determination. "We need to make them like me more, significantly enough so my abilities can grow and be altered with their perception."

[And how do you propose to accomplish this?]

"Well, for starters, I could develop a compelling backstory. Something really tragic that makes readers sympathize with me."

[Like what? “I confessed to a girl as a challenge when I was seven, and she refused me, and since that day I've never emotionally recovered?”]

"H-How do you know that—”

[Wait really…?]

“N-No— Either way, as I was saying,” Amy cleared her throat, “I could use a backstory..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe something like: I was actually royalty in disguise! Forced to hide my true identity after my kingdom was overthrown. I remember the readers speculating about that."

[Boring. Besides, if you suddenly start claiming royal heritage, readers will see right through it.]

"Ugh, fine. Then, what about a childhood sweetheart who died tragically, leaving me emotionally scarred and unable to form close attachments?"

[Because tragic romance backstories are so original... Why not go all out? Perhaps you were raised by wolves? Or you're secretly half-dragon?]

Amy waved her hands excitedly. "Ooh, the half-dragon thing could work! It would explain my unusual powers!"

[I was JOKING.]

"But it would be cool, right? I could hint that I've been hiding scales under my gloves this whole time!"

[First of all, you don’t wear those all the time. And second, the readers would revolt. They hate unexplained sudden backstory revelations that contradict established characterization.]

"Okay, okay." Amy crossed her arms, thinking. "What about something simpler? Like, I secretly send money back home to support my sick mother?"

[Better, but still rather cliché. If you want readers to genuinely connect with your character, you need something authentic and unique. Something that actually relates to who you are.]

"But I'm boring! My real backstory is just: mean girl who bullied others and wrote nasty reviews online. And had a useless, good-for-nothing father, and was a complete burden to her mother.”

Amy’s brow furrowed momentarily at the memory of her mother. She wondered for a second what had happened to her but quickly shook her head. She probably was celebrating that her problematic daughter had disappeared from her life. There was no point in thinking about it.

“That's not exactly sympathy-inducing.” She continued shortly after, “They will hate me."

[A person who recognizes her flaws and wants to be better. That's more compelling than any manufactured tragedy.]

"So you're saying I should just... be more like myself?"

[Of course not, that would be stupid. You will contradict the mysterious persona you have already set up. What I’m telling you is that if you are going to manufacture a backstory, it should at least retain similarities to what you used to be. It needs to feel authentic.]

"Hmm."

Amy tapped her finger against her chin. She didn’t show it, but that thought made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"What if I dramatically sacrificed myself to save someone? That would definitely bump up my likability rating. Those always work, remember Lain?"

[You do realize there's a significant drawback to that plan, yes?]

"What?"

[You'd be dead.]

"Oh. Right." Amy frowned.

[You're impossible.]

"I'm trying alright, go easy on me." Amy pouted momentarily before a grin reappeared on her face. "Oh! What if I develop a cute quirk? Like, I always sneeze when I use my powers!"

[That's not cute, that's a medical condition.]

"A catchphrase then! Something I say when I'm about to do something awesome."

[Like what? 'Time to fate it up'?]

“Oh!” Amy nodded enthusiastically. "That's perfect! Or maybe 'Let's rewrite destiny!' They do that a lot in mangas, don’t they?"

[And you were supposed to be a critic…?]

"Come on, help me brainstorm here. What makes characters likable? Tragic pasts, cool powers, being nice to animals… Oh! What if I adopted an animal companion that follows me everywhere? Readers love those!"

[Where exactly would you keep this animal? Your dormitory strictly prohibits pets.]

"Details, details. I could hide it in my room."

[Your plan is to smuggle wildlife into an academy of magic?]

"Not wildlife," Amy clarified. "Something small and adorable. Like a kitten. Or a baby dragon!"

[Baby dragons breathe fire and grow to the size of buildings. You'd burn down your dormitory within a week.]

"You're being so negative," Amy sighed dramatically. "I'm just trying to boost my likability ratings."

[By committing arson?]

"By becoming more interesting! Readers want a character they can root for!"

[They want a character who feels real, not one transparently begging for their approval with constructed quirks and tragic backstories.]

Amy flopped back against the bench, staring up at the sky. "Fine. So I'll just... be like myself but with the fantasy filter and still putting some of the mysterious act on? Who occasionally says cool catchphrases and rescues people. And maybe has a small, non-fire-breathing animal friend."

[Progress. Glacial, but progress nonetheless.]

Amy grinned, sitting up straight again. "But we're still doing the thing where you become my prophetic medium, right? Because that would be genuinely useful."

[We'll discuss the details so it doesn't violate the rules the goddess set for me. Though I fear I'll regret encouraging you in any way.]

"Too late!" Amy stood up, a new determination in her step. "We've got an ally to evaluate, a forbidden wing to explore, and reader likability ratings to boost. Moreover, we still have one week before we have to go enter the Eastern wing, so I should use this time to train my ability to the maximum. Let's get to work!"

The pages of Libris rustled slightly, as if the book were sighing.

[Speaking of work, I should mention that the new chapter, or more like the new chapters, have just gone live. The audience is watching your latest exploits even as we speak. I advise you to take a look at it.]