Mary would have forgotten to breathe if she hadn't already done that a while ago. She looked down at her arm going through her mentor's chest. Only, instead of blood and organs, she was looking at something like cracked ceramics. In her hand, a clay heart pulsed with light but remained entirely still.

Her mentor stood frozen in place, with a weapon inches from Margaret's throat. The girl looked shocked too, whereas Hans was slowly gathering himself back together and, from what Mary could see, didn't look at all. Mossie took advantage of the break in the fighting to break free of the net it was caught in, all while beeping furiously.

What was going on?

Suddenly, a slow clapping rang out over the desert. Mary spun around, and saw a nondistinct chunk of air shimmer, then spawn her mentor. He was wearing his usual attire, worn tweed jacket and trousers - only, it looked completely unusual. Every two or three neighbouring threads subtly shone together in matching colour, twisting and turning like a living signature of divine will. Some patterns threatened to swallow Mary with the darkness they contained, shadows so wrong that Mary wouldn't even dream of trying to control them. Others came in subtle veins of gold or crimson, gently nudging her to join in their madness. The air warped around the man, possibly shielding him better than any piece of steel ever could. Of course, it could have been just an illusion, but Mary would bet dollars against pieces of chalk that attacking this man would have been a very, very bad experience.

And he was clapping as he looked at her holding a heart of his copy. A copy that took this moment to fall to the ground and break into more pieces.

“Bravo, Mary. Oh, and you, I guess.” He spared a single glance at her friends, then focused back on her. His voice was so normal it was strange. “I see that you needed a little push, but you got there eventually. Who would have thought... after all those years. A veich.”

She was stunned. So were her friends, judging by their unusual silence.

“What... what was that?” Mary finally asked, vaguely indicating the heart she was still holding. The thing actually weighted quite a bit...

“A test. I spoke through the golem, but the words were still mine. You killed the puppet - and you've convinced me that you can be the one.”

“Hold up,” Margaret finally shook off the shock. “What one are you talking about, why had you tried to kill me, and why would we stop the fight now when we have the advantage?”

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“Two good questions, one idiocy. Not bad... for a rookie. Let's start with the good ones - I was a hero like you lot once, and I had my own prophecy. A prophecy that was a pain in the ass to learn since most type Os don't get the courtesy of just being told them, I might add. The thing strongly hinted that should I walk a mentor's path, I'd have an honest shot at dealing a blow to those... well, I'll skip the detailed descriptions for the brevity. Let's just call them the system.” He sat in the air like on a couch, apparently not bothering to be bothered by details such as gravity at the moment.

“The only way it made any sense was to find a pupil that would be strong enough to take a stand and win. Only, I knew I'd only get one shot - hence, the one.” He nodded toward Mary. “As for your second question - you missed a cool speech I had prepared for the occasion, and I won't be delivering it twice. It would ruin the effect. Let's just say that if a single puppet would have been enough to end you, ending you quickly would have been a favour.”

“As for the third, a.k.a. stupid question...” Bromman looked at Margaret, then laughed with a dark undertone. Some of the runes rearranged themselves on his jacket menacingly. Mary's stomach twisted, which was quite surprising - he stopped doing that after her transformation. “I guess that you've fallen a bit behind the curve with your training. You can ask Mary what she thinks about your idea, she should be getting it by now. Anyway, you're welcome to try, but I won't hold back just to let another idiot walk the Earth. Even if you are her friend.”

That, and Mary's violent headshake, seemed to unsettle the girl enough not to try anything stupid.

“Wait,” Mary said, then turned to Margaret. “How did you know I'd be needing your help?”

Margaret shrugged. “We didn't. Arthur's lawyers only managed to get us out of the bureaucratic limbo today.”

“And you just happened to have a loud fight next to the camp's entrance that we have been standing guard at tonight,” Hans added.

Huh...

“So, it was just a coincidence?” Mary asked, not entirely convinced.

“Oh, it was a coincidence, alright,” Bromman said. “But I don't think it was just a coincidence. Those things happen way too often. There is more behind this, even if we're still unsure what exactly.”

Mary looked at the broken remains of the golem. The 'body' made her feel a bit uneasy, even though now that she had the time to take a closer look, it was clear that the imitation wasn't perfect.

“So... what now?” she asked.

“I'd suggest anyone still sleeping to get at least some sleep,” Bromman said, nodding towards Margaret. “Hans and Mary can take the rest of the guarding shift. And I'll need to exchange a few words with Arthur before the Big Day really kicks off.”

And so, Mary was left with Hans, standing next to the tunnel's entrance. Then, once Margaret and Bromman were already past the first turn, Mary realised something.

“Wait! What should I do with that heart? Do you want it back? Should I just throw it away?”

Of course, only Hans heard her, and he knew as much as her. Great.