Page 119 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

The implication hits with staggering force – not just distorted time, but actual imprisonment within repeating cycles extending far beyond what even I'd anticipated.

"1-1000?!" Gwenivere gasps in horror, stating the numerical values before turning to look at Zeke, who sighs with evidentresignation. I have a strong feeling he knows who we’re talking about.

"For a sloth shifter, that should make sense," he explains, expression suggesting unfortunate logic rather than mere speculation. "His genetic makeup is so slow in this world showing his true self that the time difference isn't affecting him."

Cassius nods, shadows shifting with what I've come to recognize as confirmation of a particularly unpleasant truth.

"This trial is the only chance we're going to get to be 'together,'" he continues, expression grimmer than his typically stoic demeanor usually permits. "The sloth shifter explained that when he failed with his comrades and the day ended, the next day was the same. Again and again, the same classes, and the same potential trial, but the only difference was that he was partnered with another set. For 1000 times."

"No fucking way," I whisper, fully processing the horror of such perpetual entrapment within the academy's distorted temporal systems.

Gwenivere looks between Zeke and Mortimer, that analytical mind of hers already processing implications beyond mere emotional reaction.

"What's the end game? Like the premise of the repetition? Is it so he ends up with the same team members before they can try again and be successful?"

Mortimer's scholarly expression turns contemplative, hands steepling in characteristic gestures that suggest a deep analysis of a complex problem.

"That could be the goal, but think of the probabilities of that happening. Slim to none. Which means..." He trails off, gaze shifting to Zeke as if passing off a theoretical baton to someone with a complementary perspective.

"By the time he's finally matched with those he started with, there's a high probability they're dead," Zeke completesthe thought, blunt assessment carrying the weight of certainty rather than mere speculation. "Meaning he's trapped in this cycle forever unless he somehow manages to be matched with a team that's successful in completing the trial."

"Which is basically impossible because if the trial is like ours where we have to find the throne and get a Fae to sit in it to temporarily activate it," I declare, the apparent futility of the situation triggering familiar prison-based assessment of rigged systems designed to maintain control rather than permit advancement.

Gwenivere looks up at me, eyes widening with immediate comprehension of the connection between separate assignments.

"Your challenge is to make someone activate the throne?"

I nod, Cassius doing likewise beside me, his shadows shifting with academic interest now that parallel assignments have been recognized.

"It doesn't need to claim the Fae," Cassius elaborates, precision characteristically important to his explanations. "It will simply react to the similar Fae wavelengths, which is enough to win the trial."

Gwenivere frowns, fingers tapping against her thigh in a gesture I've come to recognize as indicating active problem-solving rather than mere frustration. "Then what's the aerial picture of us overlooking Faerie for?"

The question hangs in our time-frozen space, connections forming with almost audible clicks as information previously compartmentalized suddenly aligns into a coherent pattern.

The separate assignments –aerial perspective and throne activation— clearly represent complementary rather than competing objectives, suggesting a design intended to force cooperation beyond individual groups.

We’re only lucky that we like one another. Other groups may not be so lucky…

The probability makes me realize something like a flick of a switch.

"They're the same assignment," I realize aloud, certainty growing as mental connections solidify. "Just presented differently to different groups to ensure we'd have to work together. One potentially leads to the other."

Mortimer nods, scholarly satisfaction evident in his expression.

"A common Academy approach," he confirms. "Separate but interlocking challenges designed to test both individual group capabilities and collaborative potential."

"So we need both the throne activated and the aerial perspective captured simultaneously?" Gwenivere summarizes, a practical focus cutting through potential theoretical discussion.

"With photographic evidence including at least one person from each group," Zeke adds, remarkable knowledge of assignment parameters suggests information access extending beyond what's been directly shared with either team.

“I think the aerial dynamics involved in finishing your mission will then lead to you meeting up with us to join at the throne coordinates so that we can watch Nikolai claim the throne,” I elaborate.

“Like the picture,” Gwenivere points out, looking at us though neither I nor Cassius in the matter know what she’s referring to, which is why she adds, “We found a picture of the throne or something revolving around the legend in one of the ancient books. It needs six individuals, Mortimer and Zeke will be behind the throne, with Cassius and me in front of the throne, and Atticus on the side of the throne. Right side I’m assuming. Then Nikolai is the one sitting on the throne to activate it.”

Seems simple enough.

"Which means we need to coordinate location, timing, and positioning with Nikolai," Cassius points out, shadows coiling with increased purpose now that strategic objectives have been clarified. "Assuming we can find him if he’s located the throne."

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