"How about one last wish?" Fitzmaria grinned, twirling the sword in his hand like he had all the time in the world.

Catty forced her face to stay calm, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

"A wish?" she echoed, tilting her head as if considering it. "Sure, why not? I guess I've got one to spare..." the girl paused and looked around. "How about this... You tell me about this place. Where are we?"

"You want to know about this place?" Fitzmaria chuckled like she was asking about the weather. "Alright, fine. I'm feeling generous."

He touched the girl's breast with the tip of his sword, savoring the moment. "You're not going anywhere anyway, right?"

Catty nodded, "Yeah. I just want to know who came up with all of this... unreal."

"Unreal? You could say that," Fitzmaria's smirk widened. He shrugged, glancing around like the place bored him. "But it's real enough to trap you, isn't it?"

His eyes gleamed, and he leaned in slightly, like sharing a secret. "Alright, I'll give you the short version. This whole world? It's one big illusion. Crafted by some magus with way too much imagination for his damn good."

"Imagination? Must've had way too much free time," Catty kept her gaze steady, hiding the way her heart was hammering in her chest.

Fitzmaria glanced around, tapping the blade against his leg.

"See, every stone, every tree, all of it—just something this guy dreamed up. Poof, there it is. Imagination is funny like that. He can make reality... Whatever he wants."

"So... everything here is just something someone dreamt up? It's all in his mind?"

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Fitzmaria laughed. "And you're trapped in it like a fly in a web!"

"Makes sense," Catty's face stayed calm, but inside, her mind clicked into gear. Imagination. Could she work with that?

"You think things are supposed to make sense?" Fitzmaria said, his eyes locking on hers. "They don't."

He grinned as if he were letting her in on a private joke. "The magus built this place to trap people. People like you. You don't stand a chance."

As Fitzmaria's laughter faded, Catty's attention was pulled away from his words. Something shifted in the corner of her vision. One of the massive flying monoliths—silent sentinels that had hung in the sky above—twitched. It was subtle at first, like a brief distortion in the air, but then another monolith moved, its edges blurring for a moment before snapping back into place.

Was the world...glitching?

Catty's eyes darted back to Fitzmaria, who continued his rant. The girl could feel it now—the place around them was unstable, cracks forming in the flawless illusion. One of the monoliths shifted again, disappearing for a heartbeat before reappearing a little to the side.

Her pulse quickened. The magus may have imagined this place, but it wasn't perfect—and she could use this.

Suddenly, a movement caught her eye behind Fitzmaria. There, a familiar fluffy figure slinked along the square's edge. Thunder, the orphanage cat, moved stealthily under the shadows of the hovering monoliths.

A scream almost escaped Catty's lips. Thunder shouldn't be here!

Her mind raced. This wasn't a coincidence. The cat's presence could only mean one thing—Eldric was here. He was like a whisper in the depth of her thoughts, warning her that the space around the girl was unstable.

Her eyes shifted to the monoliths once more. If this place was imagined, it was tied to the mind. Which meant...

Catty took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. In her mind, she pictured the monoliths moving. Just a small shift, a test.

When the girl opened her eyes, the nearest monolith drifted to the side, obeying her thought. It worked. She could control this.

Eldric had shown her way out, and now the girl knew how to exploit it.

"Think all you want, Catty. Won't change a thing," Fitzmaria continued, pointing his sword toward her bracelet. "You see this? Useless. No magic. No tricks left. It's just you now. Stuck in a place where reality's whatever my boss wants it is."

Fitzmaria laughed, that arrogant sparkle back in his eyes. "Good luck with that."

And the man swung his sword.

Catty watched it slowly slick through the air that suddenly became viscous like honey. She blinked, and for the briefest moment, the girl saw Eldric's face flicker between the monoliths. His eyes locked onto hers, sending a silent message. Focus.

The girl closed her eyes, and in the silence, his voice echoed in her mind.

'The weak spots… You know where they are.'

When Catty opened her eyes, time sped up again, and she had no time to dodge the sword. She only had time to imagine its sharp edge turning into the first thing that came to mind.

An umbrella.

It seemed unbelievable, but in this place, her thoughts had power.

Fitzmaria's hand now gripped a harmless handle. He stared at the umbrella, wincing as if it had betrayed him.

Catty smiled. It worked. The power of imagination was her weapon here. She focused on the space around her, letting her thoughts go wild. The monoliths above began to twist like a crumpled sheet of paper. The ground beneath her feet rippled, turning soft like a liquid while the distant mountains bent and twisted as if made of rubber.

"What are you doing!" Fitzmaria exclaimed, his gaze darting to the warping landscape around them. "You can't control this!"

Catty didn't answer, focusing on the changing world around them. The more bizarre her thoughts were, the more it transformed. The Observatory tower cracked, its surface splitting open like an egg, spilling out a swarm of butterflies that evaporated into the air.

"This isn't how it works!" Fitzmaria's voice carried fear now when the ground beneath him turned into a quagmire.

Catty smirked, "Isn't it?" A wave of flowers rushed in all directions under her feet, their petals glowing in fluorescent colors.

"Stop it!" Fitzmaria was waist-deep in the ground and threw away his sword. The flowers covered his body and sealed his mouth.

"Okay!" Catty laughed. In the sky, clouds morphed into clocks, their hands spinning wildly in all directions. Trees sprouted long, spindly legs and walked, clicking with each step. The horizon bent and stretched like a soft sheet. The sky above darkened and brightened in flashes, flickering like an old, damaged film reel. The sun warped into a spiral of light before shattering like glass.

She turned to Fitzmaria, her voice steady. "You said it's all about imagination, right? Well, let's see who can imagine better."

The world continued to flicker and distort. Objects bled into one another—solid became liquid, liquid became vapor. Time slowed and then speeded up, the moments stretching and then snapping back like an elastic band.

The virtual world easily bent to her will.

With a sudden thought, the girl rewound time, forcing Fitzmaria to appear before her again. His sword was raised high, ready to strike—but as soon as he moved, Catty moved time back.

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He was into the ground again, his body covered with flowers.

Then, with a flick of her mind, she pulled time back to the first moment—Fitzmaria before her, the sword in the air.

The sequence played over and over. Fitzmaria stood tall one moment, then buried waist-deep the next—he was bouncing back and forth between two states. His face twisted with confusion, flickering in and out of positions. And each repetition became faster than the last, controlled entirely by Catty's will.

"What have you done?!" Fitzmaria's howl reverberated in the air.

She didn't respond. She didn't need to.

The same events looped endlessly: the distortion of monoliths, the shifting skies, the clock hands spinning madly in the sky, and Fitzmaria trapped in the endless glitch, flickering back and forth.

Catty's mind continued to push the boundaries, forcing the illusion to its limits. The system was struggling, and the glitches were coming faster now. Objects flickered in and out of existence, entire sections of the world dissolving for moments before reappearing, barely holding together. The distorted world pulsed like a dream on the edge of breaking.

The more Catty manipulated, the more the illusion crumbled. She took a step forward, but something pulled her back—time itself. The girl pushed against it, splitting herself in two. Two versions of herself now stood in the same space, moving slightly out of sync, creating a fracture in the system. The cracks in the virtual environment spread, growing wider.

The illusion was collapsing. It couldn't keep pace and glitched violently, landscape sections disappearing and reappearing in fragments, barely holding together. The space around Catty shuddered.

She knew she had created a paradox, and now the system was tearing apart. Catty pushed it further to its breaking point. The environment couldn't hold anymore—time and space were falling apart around her.

The world around Catty cracked like shattered glass. The ground split open, jagged fractures spreading in every direction. The sky above turned between day and night. Trees twisted and crumbled, branches melting into the air, while the monoliths overhead splintered and vanished into the void.

Catty's heart raced. The entire virtual world was falling apart, pieces of reality breaking off and dissolving into nothingness.

In the distance, she saw a tear, a gaping rift in the space. It was small at first, a thin crack in the air, but it widened with every second, pulling the disintegrating pieces of the world toward it.

The girl felt the pull. The rift was growing, a swirling vortex of chaos. It was her way out. Catty bolted toward it without hesitation, her feet barely touching the crumbling ground. The pull grew stronger, dragging her closer as the virtual space shattered around the girl.

She leaped into the rift just as the world collapsed entirely behind her. The last fragments of the virtual environment disappeared into the void, swallowed by the tearing illusion.

For a moment, everything was weightless.

Then, Catty emerged on the other side.

She somersaulted and quickly jumped to her feet.

The girl glanced around when her eyes adjusted to the shade. She stood in the middle of the empty room. It was small and looked ascetic. An old bamboo mat lay on the floor at the center, flanked by low cushions and candles that cast weak light against the bare walls.

No windows, no doors. Just the stillness and the faint scent of incense in the air.

The space felt secluded and peaceful. Too peaceful. After the chaos of the virtual world, this quiet seemed scary.

Catty's pulse slowed, but the tension still lingered. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been here. Recently. As if the presence of the person who'd occupied the room clung to the space.

It had to be the one who created the illusion. Catty wasn't sure how she knew, but her gut told her this was his sanctuary.

The cushion had a slight indent—someone had been seated moments before.

Someone had just left the room and wasn't far.

The girl stared at the cushion, her heart pounding again. Her thoughts turned to Eldric, her only friend through this madness. "What should I do?" Catty whispered, her voice barely breaking the silence.

No answer.

She closed her eyes for a beat, taking a breath, trying to steady herself. The girl wasn't safe yet. The magus, who controlled the virtual world, had been here. Watching her. Waiting.

Catty clenched her fists and turned back. A curtain was hanging on the wall, still swaying.

The girl pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the hall beyond. The air was thick with incense, the scent stronger here, wrapping around her like a haze.

The first thing that caught her eye was the colossal altar at the far end, bathed in golden light. Its centerpiece was a massive metal disk engraved with the dragon. The light shimmered, reflecting off the carvings, and the dragon seemed to be moving, alive.

Long purple drapes hung on either side of the hall, concealing the true size of the place. The shaking candlelight cast dancing shadows on the floor, making the entire chamber severe.

Catty stood frozen on the threshold.

At the center of the hall, a man sat cross-legged on a stone platform, perfectly still and facing the altar.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint rustling of the fluttering drapes. Catty could clearly hear her heart beating.

The man didn't budge, sitting on the platform. He didn't need to move to make his presence known.

"Catty," he said, his voice low but sharp. "You've been busy."

Catty's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name. She didn't respond, her fists tightening at her sides.

"Escaped my trap," the man let the words hang in the air, then continued. "I'll admit, not many make it this far."

"You know who I am?" Catty asked.

The man turned slowly, and the girl saw his face hidden by a metal mask glittering in the candlelight.

"Of course," he replied, his voice calm, but a shiver ran down her spine. "I've been watching you for longer than you realize."

Catty roused, "If you've been watching, you know I'm not as easy to trap as you thought."

"For now," he said calmly. "But don't mistake this for more than a moment's reprieve. You've barely scratched the surface."

The girl refused to let his words rattle her. "Are you scared?" she said, trying to steady her voice. "That's why you set the trap?"

The man fell silent as if deep in thought. His hush was anxious.

"Fear?" he said, at last. "No. I simply don't want to clean up the mess when everything falls apart. You, and your... connection, are a disruption. It's a danger. One that could tear down everything we've built."

Catty's eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, her voice steady despite the chill in her chest. "If I'm such a disruption, why not end it now?"

A soft chuckle escaped the man's lips, but he didn't move. "You escaped an illusion, nothing more. But what lies ahead for you..." He trailed off, letting the silence hang between them like a threat. "You're still playing a game you don't even understand."

The girl squared her shoulders, "Maybe I don't know the rules, but I'm not quitting."

The mask hid his smile, "You've come this far, but tell me, do you really think your strength brought you here?"

Catty didn't flinch, though the words pricked at her like a needle. She held his gaze, refusing to look away.

"No," he continued, his voice soft but piercing. "You survived because of him. Eldric. Without his shadow hovering over you, you'd have been lost the moment you stepped into the void."

The girl felt a pit of dread in her stomach. Does he know Eldric?

"You think you can keep relying on him? You think he'll always be there, guiding you, protecting you?" He let out a low chuckle, the sound hollow in the vast, quiet room. "What will you do when his help runs out? When you're truly alone?"

"I don't need him to handle my messes," Catty said, her voice cold.

His laughter echoed a sound that felt more like a warning than amusement. "Perhaps not now. But when the storm comes, and it will come, you'll see. There are battles you can't fight alone, no matter how much you think you can."

"I'll figure it out," Catty clenched her fists.

"You'll try," the man said, his tone sharpening, "but every step you take only brings you closer to the inevitable. And when it comes..." He paused, leaning just slightly forward. "I'll be waiting."

Suddenly, the man clapped his hands, and guards stepped forward from behind the drapes. They had been there all along, hidden, waiting for his command, and now surrounded the girl.

The man didn't rise but watched her through the mask, and his voice was as calm as ever. "You've stepped into a place few ever see... and fewer leave."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "Perhaps I'm making a mistake. But letting you go now... Time demands this."

Without looking at the guards, the man flicked his hand. "Let her eat. Then... show her the door."

Their journey was long. The guards led Catty through many floors as if descending from the top of a high tower.

Her gaze flickered around as they moved through the labyrinth of corridors and stairways. They passed by wide training halls where disciples created protective barriers that repulsed bursts of magic energy. Others stood still, manipulating mana, and glows surrounded their hands. Further along, a group practiced incantations, shimmering seals swirling in the air around them. A few paused with surprise when they saw the girl accompanied by guards.

The sounds of training became weaker as they descended deeper.

At the end, they pushed open a heavy wooden door and entered the kitchen. It was enormous, its high stone walls lined with iron racks and gleaming utensils. Long counters stretched along the center, cluttered with pots, knives, and overseas herbs hanging from hooks. The air smelled of spices and burnt oil.

A fire crackled under a massive cauldron in the corner, sending shadows dancing across the tiled floor. A few cooks glanced up as they chopped vegetables or stirred simmering sauces. The clatter of metal and the sound of knives echoed through the kitchen.

The guard commander stepped forward and raised his voice, "The Master has ordered that we feed the girl—with only the best dishes, of course."

He grinned, "Nothing but the finest for our little guest."

The guards sat Catty down at a narrow wooden table apart from the work area. They gave a mocking bow before stepping back to the edge of the room and crossed arms, watching her like hawks.

The chief cook, a stout man with a thick mustache, glanced up from the pot he was stirring. "The best, eh?" His eyes gleamed with understanding. "Will do the Elemental Challenge set!"

"Exactly," the commander chuckled, then turned to Catty, "Consider it an honor. Few get treated to a meal like this."

An hour passed before the chef came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. The cooks brought out the dishes one by one and placed them on the table in front of the girl.

"The Devil's Delight," the chef announced the first one. "Guaranteed to light up your day."

He smirked as he moved to the next. “The Seafarer’s Regret.” The chef leaned in closer. "Careful, you can drown enjoying."

Then, he gestured to the third, "The Chef's Secret. Ah, it's quite the rare delicacy."

Finally, the chef unveiled the last dish, "Nature's Punishment. For those with a taste for the unexpected."

Catty stared at them silently, not believing her eyes, but she couldn't hesitate. Not with all eyes on her.

With a dramatic flourish, the chef lifted the lid from the first dish, and Catty understood—she was in trouble.