Even though I feel anger and humiliation at the prospect of being so easily lured in and captured by this group of people, I can’t deny that I feel a mote of pride at what these black market [Mechanists] have managed to create. Even as I am now, getting close to my second ascension, I know it would take me several days to etch out the thousands of glyphs, coupled with tens of thousands of various switches, gates, and other linking runes. Even if four or five people just past their second ascension— each with a maxed-out [Basic Glyph Manipulation] Skill— spent a month working on this room, it would be questionable whether or not they would have succeeded.

The grammatical structure, to use Dr. Reynolds’ linguistics terminology, is nigh immaculate. Every connection is precisely defined, both directly between the proximal glyphs, as well as indirectly with regard to the rest of the array. It’s a step above what I was able to accomplish back when I created my [Mechanical Arm Cannon]. And seeing all of this, combined with my new [Multidimensional Glyphcasting], fills me with countless ideas for how I can progress further, both as a [Glyphcaster] and as an enchantress.

I hesitate for a moment, my eyes darting around out of habit despite my intermittent use of [Archangel’s Gaze]. Once I’m thoroughly convinced beyond a reasonable doubt that I’m not being watched, I pull out my sketchbook— with a bit of difficulty— and get to work. So many ideas to trace out and designs to test.

Chloe, I’m sorry that I am extending your grief and worry this little bit longer, especially after having already made you wait. But it is in our best interests if I have this knowledge. We need stronger weapons and armor if we are to progress through the second half of the Tower Gauntlet. If we are to successfully conquer the next challenge the System throws at us, and at our home. If we are merely to survive, it isn’t enough to stagnate. We must overcome, and in here lies such profound knowledge of how I might do so.

For half an hour, I sketch, my hand a furious blaze of motion and yet still unable to keep up with my mind as it races with possibilities. So many possibilities that I only have enough time to sketch the barest essence and maybe a couple of orientations in which those glyphs might possibly connect. Some of them will fail due to my inexperience with [Glyph Manifestation] in three- and higher-dimensional spaces. But others of them will succeed, and I need only one such success to make a major breakthrough.

Having gained as complete of an understanding of my prison as possible, I turn to the most profound error made within the series of thousands of glyphs which are locking me in here. The source of the dissonance. A single linking rune in the wrong orientation. Such a minor deviation, the difference between saying ‘above the table’ and ‘over the table’ in English. To the undiscerning eye, the two’s meanings are practically identical, making it easy to make the erroneous substitution. Had I made such a tiny error while building and engraving the [Mechanical Arm Cannon], it would have likely still worked. It would have been a bit weaker and consumed a bit more [Ether] to compensate. But the error almost certainly wouldn’t have led to any catastrophic malfunctions.

But when dealing with glyphs and magic, even the tiniest inaccuracy can be exploited. I place my right hand on the wall, my palm pressing right into the center of the errant rune. I pour as much of my [Ether] as I can directly into it. It hurts. Every point of [Ether] I push through my channels is slippery and oily. Conjuring them out of my body feels even worse, a Sisyphean task like trying to scoop up water with a colander.

My head hurts, and I want to scream. Tears that might well be of blood stream down my cheeks as I force my body and my [Ether] to obey my will, the formation around me be damned. Countless seconds pass— in the pain, I’ve lost track of time.

[Your [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XVII)] has upgraded to [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XVIII)].]

Seeing the System notification, I continue to push, knowing that my effort is not in vain. My grasp on my [Ether] is a little bit tighter. Not enough to push through just yet, but I won’t give in. I think of everyone who has helped me to this point. Of Madison and the other researchers from that now-dead universe who gave me life. My mother, who gave me a second life. Mrs… I mean, Alicia, my adoptive mother, in deed if not in law. And of course, Chloe. Because always Chloe.

[Your [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XVIII)] has upgraded to [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XIX)].]

The wall starts to heat up. Slowly at first, and then more quickly as it begins to incandesce a dull reddish-brown. Sweat pours down the back of my neck. My vision blurs and fades. My eyes feel like they’re about to burst out of my sockets. My muscles cramp up, sending yet more pain through my veins. My breathing shallows, my chest tightens, my throat clamps up. Pressure builds up within my body, the weight of the entire room and all these inscriptions wearing down on me.

[Your [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XIX)] has upgraded to [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XX)].]

But it’s working. The slippery feeling separating me from my magic is waning just a bit. Just a bit further. My head grows light as my body grows heavy. The entire world— the entire universe, perhaps— is telling me to submit. Telling me to give in, to lie down, to accept my imprisonment. But I deny it. Deny the very world itself if I have to. I deny and I deny and I refuse and I resist and I break through and I will overcome!

I scream as loud as I can, pushing everything I have and am into my magic, forcing it out of my body even against the glyphs that are trying to suppress me. My body, my autonomy, my choice. And I choose not to be restrained! Right as I finalize and actualize my mental declaration, something shifts within me. I briefly glance at the System notification that appears, and I grin with glee and unwavering determination.

[Your [[Ether] Strain Immunity] has evolved into [Indomitable Will].]

[[Indomitable Will]: Your mind is yours alone, subject only to your own will. Your desire to move forward upon your chosen path is unrelenting. Even in the face of what others consider impossible, you stand undaunted. No matter how dire or desperate the situation, as long as you can draw breath, you will continue forward. Provides immunity to [Ether] strain. Skills and effects that would suppress your [Ether] or Skills are automatically and passively negated. In addition, deleterious illusions, suggestions, and other Skills and effects with the [Mind-Altering] property are greatly reduced in efficacy and success rate when cast upon you.]

With my power now fully wrested back and under my control once more, it takes a mere twenty points of [Ether] applied on the spot before the iron starts to melt, the carefully-wrought glyphs falling apart despite the inherent durability the Etheric inscriptions provide.

And with one segment broken, the others weaken. What was once a trickle of ambient Ether flowing into my prison now feels like a faucet being opened. And at the same time, my own body sharpens with renewed focus. My mind feels crisp and clear, as though a fog has cleared, one I didn’t fully and consciously recognize I had been in. My connection to my [Inventory] and my Skills, once oily and tenuous, is once again my own, coming even more easily than before.

With all of my strength back intact at the shackles which once tried to bind me thoroughly scrapped, I send a message to Chloe, letting her know that I’ve broken out and am preparing to make my move.

“Sera? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m a little sore, but after what I just went through, I feel amazing. How’s the situation out there?”

“It’s… so ordinary. You’re in there, fighting against all that stuff, and yet, out here, it’s just business as usual. People going about their lives.”

I sigh, taking a moment to catch my breath. “That’s why we do what we do. So that everyone out there can continue to live lives as peacefully as they see fit.”

“Yeah.” Chloe pauses. “So, do you want me to approach? Scratch that, I’m not waiting any longer!”

“Wait!”

I exclaim. “Even though this was all a trap, we still don’t know if there really are hostages here. If there are–”

“No. First, I’m not just going to sit on the sidelines any longer while you put yourself in danger. Where you go, we go together. Your challenges are my challenges. Your pain is my pain. Your grief is my grief, and I’ve felt enough of both of those. That’s what we promised when we started dating, and reaffirmed with our [Angelic Bond]. And secondly, if they have a hostage, what we need is a healer. Just in case the worst comes to pass.”

I take another deep breath. “Just be careful. I know it won’t make you happy to hear, but I think the cops might have been in on the whole trap. One of them somehow got a hold of me, then helpfully told me about hostages, all before sending me in. It could have all been in good faith, but there’s also more than a few officers who’d have a bone to pick with me.”

“If that turns out to be true, we’ll figure things out from there.”

“Understood. For now, I’m going to get out of here, and try to figure out the situation and move forward from there.”

“I’ll see you soon, Sera.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

I apply the [Unlock] glyph to the door. It resists, but only for a moment. The inscriptions, now completely worn down, buckle. The mechanisms, mechanical and Etheric alike, holding the door, twist and contort and unravel themselves until they’ve completely fallen apart. I flare out my [Archangel’s Gaze], scanning around for signs of a welcoming party. Seeing nothing through the small slit beneath the door, I open it as quietly as I’m able and slip back into the hallway.

I don’t get more than a couple of steps out of the door before an alarm rings. Well, that sucks. Immediately thereafter, inscriptions on the sides of the hallway begin to glow. I feel a metaphorical hand clamp down around me, its insides coated in slippery grease, attempting once more to suppress and subdue me. But this time around, I’m able to completely rebuff the formation without even a thought.

[[Indomitable Will] effect activates. Power Suppression formation effects negated.]

I walk through the hallway at a quick but not overly hurried pace. Chloe will be here momentarily. I need to figure out exactly what’s going on here, preferably before the main fight breaks out in earnest. Where are the real hostages? And what exactly am I dealing with? I still have far too many questions.

I enter the next room, one containing a weak power signature. It’s not one of the hostages, and it’s not Giuseppe, either. Instead, it’s another man in a fancy black suit, sitting at a desk typing on a computer. His smooth, youthful, clean-shaven face is behind a triple monitor array, and from what I can tell, he’s using some sort of new software to help design new glyph formations. Makes sense; although computers are no match for Skills when it comes to formulating design schematics, they can still do a mostly passable job. I’d imagine that’s how they built that formation, rather than hand-carving it as I’d originally thought. It would also explain the mistake that allowed me to break out; garbage in, garbage out.

He looks up to me with a sneer. “I see the prisoner has wandered off.” He stands up and glares at me, raising his hand and emitting a blinding light from his eyes, attempting to ensnare me within some sort of illusion.

[[Indomitable Will] effect activates. Effects of Skill [Disorienting Eye] are negated.]

“That’s not very nice,” I say. “I come here just to talk about what’s going on here, and you immediately attack me with your [Disorienting Eye].”

“What… Why?”

“Now, I do hope we can have a civil conversation. Chloe would be most upset with me if this confrontation turned to unnecessary violence.”