In the sacred dance of fate, the Eight of Swords unveils the paradox of self-woven binds, a tapestry of shadows that shrouds the seeker in illusions of captivity. Yet, within the silent whispers of the swords, echoes the clandestine invitation to discern the veils of confinement, for in the unraveling threads of perception lies the key to a liberation unseen by ordinary eyes – Golden Seer of Golden Clan

Operation Menu: Phase Dinner (UNKNOWN)

FRAGO: Operation: Marianne's Vigil (UNKNOWN)

Estelle lay on the floor, gazing up at the light. Her mother's voice cut through the haze, demanding that she sit up, ‘like a proper lady’. The last shock had sent her sprawling to the ground, leaving her with a fuzzy memory and a struggle to recall her name. She pushed herself up and rested on the wall.

A cold and wet sensation brushed against the side of her face, prompting her to wipe it with the sleeve of her blouse.

"Face wet," Estelle mumbled and touched her damp skin. "Did I make my face wet, or did something else do it?"

She stuck a finger in her mouth and then stared at it in the light.

"I think it was me," she concluded.

A thick haze obscured her memories and thoughts, and her vision flickered in and out. As her mind gradually sharpened, and the fog lifted, she raised her hand. Her movements were awkward and sluggish. Something was coursing through her veins. Whatever she had been injected with at the house still lingered in her system.

Estelle wept, tears streaming down her face as she kicked her feet in frustration. The tip of her boot collided with something metallic and produced a distinct sound. Leaning closer, she noticed a hatchet had appeared and was just out of reach. If she stretched a bit, she might be able to grasp it.

She sighed deeply, gazing back at the light.

“You need to get out of here, little one. Just use the axe,” her mother urged.

“It doesn't matter anymore,” Estelle replied. “It’s not time yet.”

“Hurry before the shocks come back.”

In the corner of her vision, she noticed blue lettering appeared which read: GLT 24:36:59:00.

“Perhaps, it’s umm now it’s time to go, Mom,” Estelle said, scanning her surroundings.

“Shall we leave?”

After receiving no reply, she placed her hand on the wall, it was still vibrating.

“Well, maybe if I just,” she murmured, stretching out as far as she could.

When that proved futile, she lay on the floor, crawling closer to the hatchet. Her fingers grazed its surface, the metal from the shackles tearing at her skin and turning it red.

It was just a hair's breadth away from her fingertips. The shackles tugged at her skin, but she persevered, inching closer and closer until she could touch it with her fingernails. She pulled it nearer. When it was within reach, she wrapped her fingers around it and drew it toward her.

Testing the hatchet by running her finger across the blade, Estelle noticed that it was dull and pitted. The back had a sturdy, hammer-like surface.

“While a bit dull, this may prove useful,” Estelle said, adjusting her hair.

“You don’t have time to adjust your hair.”

Estelle ignored the voice and removed her corset. Once off, she placed it on the floor, ripped the fabric, and slipped out of the metal bones.

“Little one, what are you doing?” the voice asked louder. “Do you not want to leave this hell?”

Placing the head of the hatchet against the metal, she bent the steel from the corset into an ‘L’ shape. Wedging the metal between the locking mechanism of the shackle and the inner ratchet, Estelle loosened the metal and freed herself.

“Resourceful as ever, but you still have that thing around your neck, Little One.”

She attempted to stand up, but her knees wobbled, and her head felt dizzy. She proceeded to sit back down again.

“Perhaps I shall remove the collar first,” Estelle said.

Holding up her hand, she positioned her index finger directly over her thumb. Exhaling deeply between the gap, Estelle then rubbed her fingers together rapidly. Sparks flew from her fingers, and when she separated her fingers an orange flame danced between them.

"Hotter," she said, exhaling deeply.

The color of the flame changed to yellow. She continued to exhale until the flame turned blue.

"We are out of Battle City. If you're not careful, you could die."

She ran the flame over the collar, slicing through the metal. After making two cuts, Estelle tossed the remains of the collar away. Expanding her fingers, the flame dissipated.

"How did you do that?"

"It's a simple spell, one within the grasp of any task mage, Kopf," Estelle remarked. "Indeed,

I'm fully cognizant that you aren’t my mother. Mother would have subjected me to a week of being hung upside down had I dared to address her as 'mom' or stuttered in the slightest."

The voice didn’t reply.

Estelle closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. The dizziness from whatever she had been injected with needed to go.

Her pulse slowed down as she slowed down her breathing.

"Stop whatever you are doing this instant!" the voice demanded, flooding into her mind and ears.

Its pitch and tone changed, alternating backward and forward, growing louder and softer, echoing in a myriad of voices overlapping each other.

"Activating coagulation factor prothrombin V, attaching and removing foreign substances from the gastric system," Estelle said.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

She disregarded the voices until they became soft static white noise. Within her thoughts, she visualized a luminous green liquid attached to her muscles and head.

Her heartbeat once.

The blood moved; platelets attached to the green liquid. She allowed her heart to beat again, and more of the toxic substance drew out of her muscles and tissues. Uncrossing her arms her pulse returned to normal, the green liquid flowed through her bloodstream and pooled into her stomach.

She began to cough forcefully, prompting her to place her hands on the cold floor. After a few attempts, she brought the liquid out of her stomach and spat it onto the ground.

“How?” the voices repeated over and over.

"By egressing from the Battle City territory, my limiters have been disengaged," Estelle said icily. "You are no longer contending with a mere gladiator but rather with a fully realized Omni-Mage."

The ground rumbled beneath her feet, and the walls vibrated as the paint shook loose. The light flickered on and off.

"You had your chance to run," Estelle said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Milli sekunda!" she yelled.

The vibrations ceased, and the individual rays of light paused in midair. Her foot kicked the heavy door, sending it to the other side and embedding it into the wall. Estelle then stepped into the hallway.

She noted that the hallway and floor were badly peeling away, worse than the room she was imprisoned in.

“Grim Fjǫðr, divine,” Estelle said, as her voice rumbled down the hallway.

Ink blot-like wings sprouted from her back. The wings continued to grow and expand down the hallway until they consumed the ceiling, and floor, and extended into the long corridor. An oily film covered the surface as round eyes appeared, opened wide, and then sank back into the abyss.

Estelle closed her eyes and began to see through the many eyes that opened and closed. She was trapped in a maze, with traps and blind turns at every corner. In the center of the maze was a single-view screen. She snapped her neck to the side, cracking her neck.

She took a single step and retracted her wings. Waving her hand, time returned to normal.

Tapping her foot in front of her, Estelle activated the screen. The figure of Guillotine, clad in a beekeeper's outfit, materialized on the larger display. Hospital beds, which she hadn’t noticed before, were stacked behind the figure.

"Do you believe your magical abilities will assist in locating me, Little One?" the voice asked. “Tick tock…”

"The task of pinpointing your current whereabouts will demand minimal effort on my part, esteemed doctor," Estelle calmly said, then she extended her right hand to her side.

Puzzled, the voice questioned, "What are you talking about?"

With a subtle gesture, Estelle began to delicately wiggle her fingers, sensing only empty space.

"You are more of a minor nuisance," she remarked, turning her back to the screen. "Perhaps my generosity in referring to you as a doctor was misplaced; a first-year resident, or even a mere dropout."

Estelle sensed a delicate touch at the tips of her fingers, akin to the gentle sensation of brushing against a spider web adorned with morning dew on its fine silk strands. She placed her pinky on the spot.

"A genuine medical practitioner would have employed a time-release paralytic, not some over-the-counter sleep medication," Estelle remarked. "Do you possess the knowledge to assess a pulse, or is that beyond your medical expertise?"

“You…know nothing about me,” Guillotine said.

The sensation on her pinky intensified, prompting Estelle to slide her middle finger across the invisible barrier. She tested the strength, likening it to the resilience of a fishing line.

"Honestly, I'd rather remain blissfully ignorant of your existence, but life has a way of delivering disappointments – much like the fact that you're undesired and unloved. Save me the trouble of hunting you down; deposit yourself on some forsaken colonial world, where you can fade into obscurity," Estelle continued.

“I will kill you!” yelled Guillotine.

The strand intensified between Estelle's fingers, thickening to the sensation of a thick rope. She determined which side carried a warming sensation to the touch. Once established, she grinned before swiftly sliding her fingers across the line.

In an instant, Estelle's body condensed to a mere two dimensions. She zipped along the rope, the world around her blurring into a hasty stream. She effortlessly passed through solid objects until she found herself standing in a control center adorned with multiple screens surrounding a central panel. With a snap of her fingers, she reverted to her normal state of existence.

A woman with disheveled blond hair and weariness etched beneath her eyes stood at the control panel. Her half-shut eyes stared vacantly at Estelle.

Time was moving slowly.

"Was it due to the side-effect of shrinking down to two dimensions with Thoughtful Steps mixed with already being shrunk down," Estelle pondered.

“Idle speculation matters not in this instance,” Estelle said.

She observed the woman's pupils adjusting with molasses-like movement. Estelle glanced over her shoulder at the mannequin dressed in beekeeper's clothes.

With a wave of her hand, she pointed her fingers down and shouted, "Staglína uf Fenrir!"

Several eight-pointed stars materialized around the woman. Subsequently, openings manifested around her, and black iron chains shot through her arms, legs, and body, tightly binding her.

Checking the time, Estelle noticed it fluctuating, speeding up, slowing down, and occasionally coming to a halt. The woman’s body was suspended in the air. The expression on her face hadn’t changed since Estelle arrived from the Thoughtful Steps spell.

“Tsk, tsk, I expected more,” Estelle said, walking over to the control panel.

She scanned the various array of dials and controls, most of which appeared redundant or, as far as she could tell, unnecessary. Taking an educated guess, she deactivated the central power.

The clock’s time resumed its normal progression. Arcs of purple electricity ran through the chains into her victim. The woman turned her head and smiled, blood ran from her mouth and nose to the floor.

“You think you won?” she said. “You achieved nothing.”

The chains fizzled and retracted back into the sigils, winking out of existence. A screen popped up in Estelle’s vision that read ‘WELCOME TO BATTLE CITY’.

“Deadman’s switch triggered,” muttered Estelle. “Most inconvenient.”

The message flashed on all screens: "Self Destruct 00:00:05:00," and then began its countdown.

Estelle swiftly took a step and delivered a precise punch to the side of her opponent's neck. The woman fell to the ground. She tossed her over her shoulders. Closing her eyes, Estelle focused on the surrounding scents, searching for the faint trail of hand sanitizer, and tracing its path.

"Self Destruct: 00:00:04:30."

Following the scent, Estelle discovered its origin behind a stack of hospital beds, leading to a wall. Sniffing again, she located the lingering aroma of hand sanitizer in the air. Estelle ran her hand along the wall until it brushed against a door handle, painted the same color as the wall.

"Mediocre obfuscation," Estelle remarked as she opened the door.

"Self Destruct: 00:00:02:16."

Inside, a single, white-painted room with a ladder ascending upward.

"Better err on the side of caution," Estelle said, checking again for the hand sanitizer scent.

The trail led upward, so she climbed the ladder with Ms. Kopf on her back. Above, a white haze enveloped them. Estelle continued until a bright flash of light blinded her sight.

As her vision cleared, she discovered herself suspended within a Plexiglas container. The cylindrical shaped enclosure was filled with a greenish liquid. Multiple fluorescent lights flickered to life.

Reaching out with her mind, she found that usual communication networks were still being scrambled.

Estelle instinctively held her breath and attempted to move her arm. However, the liquid constrained her movements. Undeterred, she maneuvered her fingers, summoning Lost Battalion to her hand. Despite multiple attempts, she could only manage to tap the Plexiglas with the tip of the blade.

"In the current situation, Lost Battalion proves ineffectual, and one can surmise that Death Blossom and Credulity would offer no assistance either," Estelle thought. “What if…”

She inched her hand up towards Mrs. Kopf’s pocket.

“She has an emergency exit strategy in place?”

Fishing around in Mrs. Kopf’s pocket for anything useful she found her flip phone. She opened it up and used her thumb to text: HELP!

***