“So… what exactly will happen when we get there?” Theora asked, as they were making their way over an incredibly long, wonky, and makeshift rope bridge connecting two mountain paths over a wide forest valley. Each tree was one of the largest Theora had ever seen, and their autumn-coloured leaves swayed in the high winds.

Four months remained until Gonell’s death.

This bridge was the only way to avoid a long detour, so now, they carefully tapped over the friable wooden boards. Nobody wanted to accidentally damage the bridge.

Skulduggery, meanwhile, had chosen a different route, despite Dema offering to build a blood bridge for her. A long time ago, this valley used to be inhabited by her kind. She wanted to see if there were any left.

Dema was running ahead, confident enough that her scrawny body and low weight wouldn’t cause disaster; meanwhile, Theora had stayed, walking backwards slowly to provide comfort.

“I’m gonna fucking die,” Lostina whined, taking the most careful of steps, trying to avoid looking down.

“It’s alright,” Theora said. “Just look at where my feet go, and put yours on the same spots. If it holds me, it will hold you too.”

“Are you really not afraid of falling? Or would you just turn into flour on impact?”

Theora gently shook her head. “I would not turn into flour.”

“Gosh, whatever,” Lostina puffed out, and took two short steps forward. That’s how it had been going for about half an hour.

If she was to fall, Theora would catch her, and maybe put her inside the cloak. That said, the inside of her cloak wasn’t meant for living beings. Even with the time dilation device, having a person inside for just a moment might harm them.

As such, the best course of action was not to fall. Not to make sudden movements, and not to panic or become upset.

“So,” Theora said, giving her best efforts to distract Lostina and keep her calm. “What will happen once we get there?”

“Ah, sorry. So, as I said, I’ll fetch the frame from the vault of Fiantanne’s dukedom. The little princess is apparently going to throw some fit to kick off her villainess arc. I’m not sure exactly what happens, but we should be able to use the commotion in order to break in. Maybe I can impersonate some high ranking official to make it easier.”

“Fiantanne,” Theora repeated. “Tell me about her.”

Lostina pulled a grimace, and almost closed her eyes upon her next step. “Ahh, fine! Fine! What do I know… She appeared in Procrastinating the Apocalypse after I already dropped it. I only vaguely know her through fanfictions. I gather she’s a fifteen-year-old entitled brat.” Lostina almost slipped, but Theora gently grasped her hand to hold her steady. “Shit! Thank you. Uhm, well. She’s a brat, but somewhat talented at her Class, which is [Alchemist]. A prodigy, and so on. I must have encountered Fiantanne in To Hell With the Author, so I imagine Dema knows more than I do.”

“Right,” Theora said, her brain running wild to come up with something new to talk about. Talking was effort. She simply latched onto the first thing she could find. “This world has a set number of Classes, and people choose one after gaining access to the System. You can’t change Classes later.”

Lostina nodded. “Yeah, exactly. Twelve base Classes. Everyone with a different Class has been summoned here from another world. Like you and me. Of course, Dema wasn’t properly summoned like us, the narrative just spat her out somewhere, so I don’t think she has a Class at all.”

“What other Classes are there?”

It was the first question that popped into her head. As long as Lostina was focusing on answering questions, she wasn’t focusing on the incredibly large drop beneath her that she had an opportunity to fall into with each step.

The sweat on her forehead, the shaking in her legs and the wobbliness of her arms made it seem like she wasn’t in the clearest state of mind.

“[Alchemist] is a utility Class… There are others, like [Engineer], who construct buildings and simple machinery, [Croppers] who serve as farmers or gardeners…” She sighed. “And then there are, of course, combat Classes. Like [Guardian] and [Berserker].”

At that, Theora raised her eyebrows. “[Berserker]?”

“Yeah. Does that mean something to you?”

“I used to be one, a very long time ago.”

Lostina looked up at her. “Oh? Well, it’s a popular archetype. Collecting power from your emotional state. Makes for some nice storytelling options. The authors in your world probably use it for that reason. Gonell is a [Berserker] too, by the way.” Lostina laughed. “And yet, you two seem nothing alike.”

Theora swallowed. It had been her very first Class, and her early years were the ones most captured in myths and legends, even though they were so long ago. In fact, so long ago, some people in her home world who knew of that legendary [Berserker] child might not even actually connect that to her, Theora, the strongest hero. Her journey through time had been disconnected, with long periods of rest or inactivity, or just her not giving a name to anyone for centuries.

It was possible that the author of the book in her home world had used the legends of the child Theora once had been as inspiration for Gonell; or maybe not, considering there were other famous [Berserkers] too. She thought of that woman who had come to seal her, with that intricate magical hammer that was now sand.

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“You good back there?” Dema shouted, with a happy tone swelling in her voice. She’d already reached the end of the bridge.

“No!” Lostina yelled. “This is terrifying!”

“Why, I tested all the planks. You ain’t gonna fall!”

That assurance did not seem to help Lostina much, and Theora wasn’t entirely sure whether Dema was saying it because it was true, or to calm Lostina down. In her own assessment, things could still go very wrong.

Lostina simply sighed, and tried to focus back on taking her forward steps.

“Gonell’s a bit of a special case,” she added unprompted, her voice back to speaking level. “She’s a [Berserker], but she has access to magic due to her Subclass. Gives her some of the most ridiculous spells you can imagine. Her strongest one, [Ray of Annihilation], is what wiped out the village. But it was weakened after being deflected, and she probably held back because she was up against what she thought to be regular Errata. She likely didn’t feel like blowing up the continent at that moment.”

“So, is [Berserker] the strongest combat Class, then?”

“Nah, not really. In this world, once you reach [Berserker] Level 20, you choose an emotion, or a state of mind. That will be what you get your strength from. Most choose anger, which is generally considered to be the strongest option.”

“What did Gonell choose?”

Lostina shrugged. “Was never actually revealed. All that we know is that she is the only person who ever chose that particular state of mind, and it’s what gave her a magic wielding Subclass. And that she regrets her choice. There were lots of theories, though. Most fans think she picked joy.”

Ah. Bad. Theora tried to ignore it. She needed to remain composed, or she would fall. “What do you think she picked?”

Again, Lostina shrugged. “Personally I can’t really see how joy would give you a magic-affinity Subclass. But also… she’s not what I expected. I mean, duh, that should be obvious, I only knew her through a few scenes and loredrops in the original story, and they were all filtered by the perception of the original protagonist and the context that she appeared in. Most of what we came to understand of her is an expansive fan-canon that developed over years. So… The real Gonell… I probably don’t know her well enough to make a guess. Anyway, what emotion did you pick?”

“Ah,” Theora let out, trying to steady herself. “Didn’t quite work that way for me.”

Lostina looked up. “How did it work for you?”

The rope suddenly felt thinner in Theora’s hands. “I had different Skill trees for different emotions, so I would be strong when I was in a mood that I levelled my Skills for, and weaker otherwise.”

“And that’s not the case anymore now,” Lostina added.

Theora nodded. Calm breaths. “Long time ago. Nowadays, my strength is unrelated to how I feel. It is unrelated to reality as well.”

Lostina frowned. She wasn’t really paying attention to the planks anymore, just slowly stepping forward, clenching the rope. “So, back then, did you level several emotions, or focus on one?”

“Just one,” Theora said.

“Which?”

Theora swallowed. “Long time ago.”

Lostina raised her brows, and a gust of wind shovelled through her hair. “You don’t remember?”

“I do remember.”

“Then tell me.”

Theora winced a little, and stopped walking backwards. Lostina stopped too, with the way forward blocked, and looked at Theora’s eyes with unfiltered curiosity.

“You mentioned it before.” She stared at her feet for a while.

“What?” Lostina tilted her head, slightly confused. “That makes no sense to me. You mean joy?”

Theora flinched at these words. The board beneath her snapped, and she plunged into the valley.

“You made her cry,” Dema’s voice rang after she’d rescued Theora with earth powers and lifted her back up the valley, now with a threatening tone, staring down an incredibly humbled and crestfallen Lostina.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” she replied, biting her lips.

“I’m not crying,” Theora said, puffy-eyed.

“Look at what you did,” Dema continued, looming over Lostina with a tone that had once turned Theora into a floundering mess too. “That calls for a big-time punishment. Seal you away for a million years?”

“I didn’t know her old Class was a touchy subject!” Lostina asserted, and she did seem like she regretted it. “Also, a million years? I have no way of surviving that. That’s a death sentence!”

“Hm…” Dema hummed, and put her chin in her hand, thinking for a moment. “Li’l rabbit, how about, if I ever get another slot of [Immortality], we adopt her, and then seal her for a million years?”

“I’m not crying,” Theora repeated, swallowing a lump of snot from her throat.

“Alright, fine!” Dema let out. “Gonna let you off the hook just this once! Don’t make her cry!” She narrowed her eyes, although her voice still had a playful and cute undertone, to the point where Theora had no idea if she was actually taking this seriously.

Lostina, in turn, was taking it seriously, and nodded readily, and then scuttled out from under Dema’s gaze, running towards Theora.

“I’m sorry for making you cry,” she whispered. “And for making you fall down.”

“I should have put more effort into staying calm,” Theora answered.

“I should have realised I was prying.”

Theora shook her head. “You can pry, if you want to. Some things are difficult for me to communicate, but that does not mean I do not wish to share them at all.”

“Yay!” Dema suddenly shouted. “You made up!”

Lostina huffed. “Don’t act like this now! You were terrifying.”

“Thought you said something mean to her,” Dema murmured. Then, she looked at the path ahead, leading into the thick forest. “We kinda lost time. Think we gotta hurry if we wanna see the speech at the castle.”

“Castle,” Theora repeated. “They live in a castle?”

“Princess does,” Dema confirmed. “And that’s where she’s gonna hold her big speech. And then, boom!”

“Boom,” Theora echoed.

Dema nodded. “Yeah. Big boom. And then… chaos.”

“I see.”

Dema gave a small smile, looking at Theora from the side, as they kept walking up the slope, over the little wooden boards that had been laid into the ground to make it easier to ascend.

“Yes,” Lostina said, sighing, joining the way up. “Let’s walk right into the big boom leaving chaos. What could possibly go wrong.”