Page 24 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

The countdown has vanished, replaced by a single glowing word:COMPLETED.

Our trajectory sends us skidding across the platform's surface, my body instinctively curling around Gwenivere to absorb the impact. Pain flares through every nerve ending as corrupted flesh meets obsidian, but I maintain my protective embrace until we finally slide to a stop near the platform's center.

“Ow…” I groan, trying not to acknowledge just how painful all of that was while Gwenivere is still in my grasp. Slowly sitting up is another torture in itself, but I manage it, my senses on point while I quickly scan our surroundings to realize where everyone is.

Lysth stands nearby, his crystalline body showing extensive fracture patterns radiating from the blood thorn still embedded in his chest. His expression shifts between confusion and alarm as he takes in Gwenivere’s true form, now fully visible as the last of her glamour fades.

I’m more confused as to how he’s still alive or in the barrier space, despite the distance.

"A woman?" he manages, crystalline voice fracturing with disbelief. "How is that possible? Wicked Academy doesn't?—"

His observation cuts short as another tremor shakes the platform. Mortimer's massive tail slams into the obsidian surface mere feet from our position, the impact sending cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb.

"Questions later," I growl, struggling to my feet despite the corruption now spreading visibly up my arms. "Survival first, which means we have to get that thing out of your chest without killing you.”

Gwenivere stirs in my grasp, her eyes clearing further as the partial purification continues its work. The corruption hasn't been completely eliminated –traces still darken the veins around her eyes and neck– but its hold has weakened significantly.

"What happened?" she asks, voice rough with pain and disorientation.

"The same thing that happened to Mortimer," I explain, supporting her as she attempts to stand. "The corruption tried to claim you. I interrupted the process."

Her gaze drops to my arms, eyes widening at the sight of black veins spreading beneath my skin. "Atticus, you're infected!"

"A calculated risk," I dismiss, though in truth the corruption burns like acid in my veins. "We need to focus on immediate survival. The trial has concluded, but our dragon friend doesn't seem to care."

As if to emphasize my point, Mortimer releases another roar that shakes the very air around us. The corrupted dragon has cornered Nikolai against the platform's edge, massive jaws snapping mere inches from the Fae prince's golden barrier.

Cassius fights to reach him, shadows lashing out against Mortimer's scaled flanks, but the exhaustion of continuous combat has taken its toll. His attacks lack their earlier precision, his movements slowing as magical reserves approach depletion.

The wordCOMPLETEDcontinues to glow above the platform, seemingly mocking our ongoing struggle against the corrupted guardian. Whatever the trial's official parameters, they've been met – five survivors have claimed positions on the central platform.

But completion offers no respite from Mortimer's corrupted assault.

"Atticus," Gwenivere clutches my arm, her gaze fixed on the ongoing battle. "We need to help them."

I assess our situation with cold calculation. Gwenivere remains weakened from her partial possession, my own corruption spreading with each passing minute. Lysth can barely stand, his crystalline structure compromised by the blood thorn's lingering effects.

I quickly look to see where Mordax is, but suddenly, he’s nowhere to be found.

Ugh, too much is happening to keep track of everything.

The odds appear insurmountable. But then, impossible odds have never deterred me before.

"Stay behind me," I instruct Gwenivere after I help her up. We’re both unsteady, but despite the amount of blood I’ve lost, I have a better chance of putting up a fight while Gwenivere focuses on recovering.

Stepping forward despite the corruption's burning progress through my system, I grin in excitement, realizing that despite how threatening all of this is, it’s the most thrill I’ve experienced in a long time.

Which makes me far too excited to let myself go.

"This isn't over yet."

Not while I still have blood to spill.

Revelations Amid Chaos

~GWENIVERE~

"Stay behind me," Atticus instructs as he helps me to my feet, his corrupted arms visibly darkening with each passing second.

---