NOVEL NEXT Chapter 28. Gamification? No, Thanks, I’m Good
Inside the Thirteenth Chamber, chaos reigned. The ancient circular platform at the center pulsed with energy unlike anything Mo had seen before—not the steady rose-gold resonance that had greeted her during their training sessions, but a frantic, spasmodic rhythm that oscillated between blinding white and absolute void.
Julian stood at the platform's center, arms outstretched, his right hand glowing with blinding intensity—like a hole torn in reality, a star brought down from the skies. It looked like the crushed crystal had consumed part of his body, the opalescent surface of the magical sphere that seemed to be feeding on Julian's energy swirling with mathematical formulas and arcane symbols that rearranged themselves with dizzying speed. Blood streamed from Julian's nose and ears, but his expression was one of rapturous exaltation.
Around the perimeter of the chamber, Mo saw Headmaster Ashenfall and several professors frozen in place—not paralyzed by choice, but held immobile by some aspect of the ritual's energy. Their mouths moved in silent incantations, counterspells that dissipated harmlessly against the barrier Julian had created.
Behind Julian stood a figure Mo recognized instantly—the quiet moth-winged boy she'd rescued from the Midnight Trial. The volunteer anchor Julian had mentioned. Milo stood with his wings partially extended, eyes closed in concentration, his body rigid as tendrils of opalescent energy flowed from him into the swirling ball of magic that not long ago was Julian's palm.
"Julian!" Mo called, her voice nearly lost in the cacophony of magical energies. "Stop this!"
He turned, eyes widening at the sight of her. "Mo! You came!" A manic grin split his face. "I love you! This all is for you! I couldn't have done it alone! You can still be part of this! Help me anchor the System properly!"
His expression darkened as he registered Valerius beside her. "What is HE doing here? You brought a Crowe to our work? The very embodiment of what we're fighting against?" Julian's voice cracked with betrayal. "After everything between us?"
"What have you done?" Mo stepped closer, the platform's edge calling to her blood as it always did. "This isn't research anymore, Julian. This is madness."
"You were playing with goblins, but this—THIS is the real revolution!" he shouted over the rising magical storm. "Look!" He gestured to his transformed palm, shadowy images flickered across its surface, barely visible in the intense light—humans, ordinary humans from Earth, staring in shock as sparks of magic manifested around their fingertips. "It's already beginning! The democratization of magic! No more hierarchies based on heritage!"
Mo risked another step forward, feeling the platform's power calling to her. "You're tearing reality apart. The magical balance…"
"Was designed by the privileged beings like you," Julian interrupted, his voice hardening. "Excuse me, like you two. Like all of the demonic society. Tell me, in your goblin reforms, did you ever once consider giving them actual magic? Or just better working conditions within a system that fundamentally oppresses them?"
The accusation struck home, forcing Mo to pause. She'd been so proud of her 'revolutionary' reforms at Blackthorn Keep, but had she truly challenged the underlying power structures? Or had she just made the exploitation more comfortable, more sustainable? Like her application to the Ethereal Codex stated?
"The System will change everything," Julian continued, his eyes fever-bright. "Every human will have access to the same power that demon aristocracy has hoarded for millennia. Imagine a world where your average barista could craft their own magic, not just lattes!"
Another tremor shook the chamber, more violent than the last. Cracks spread across the ancient stones, magical energy seeping through like blood from a wound.
Mo turned to see Valerius frozen in place, eyes wide as tendrils of opalescent energy from Julian's hand wrapped around him, lifting him slightly off the floor. "A powerful young demon noble, unlike all those old hags," Julian said, almost to himself. "Much better than the volunteer I had lined up. The top aristocratic bloodline will provide exactly the kind of anchoring stability the System needs." His eyes gleamed with feverish calculation. "Two anchors instead of one—the resonance patterns will be exponentially more stable!"
"Put them down." Mo demanded.
Julian's expression softened. "I'm sorry it came to this, Mo. I really thought you'd understand. You, of all people—trapped between worlds, never fully belonging anywhere. I thought you'd want to tear down the barriers."
For some reason, within that tableau of frozen shapes, only Mo and Julian were able to move. Mo felt the connection to the ancient power beneath her feet. Her eyes locked on Milo's disintegrating form—the boy's outline blurring at the edges, his moth-wings already dissolved in the maelstrom of energy that surrounded Julian, particles of his essence visibly flowing into and out of his glowing palm.
Valerius was beginning to show the same symptoms as Milo. His usually perfect composure fracturing as his skin was becoming translucent in patches.
"Not like this," she said, stepping onto the platform fully. The stone responded instantly, its power flowing up through her feet, amplifying her senses just as it had during their practice sessions. Through this enhanced perception, she could feel the life force being extracted from both victims—one fading fast, the other just beginning the horrifying process.
"Release them. Now," she said, the chamber's amplification lending her voice an otherworldly resonance that echoed through the destabilizing space. Beneath her feet, the platform's runes flared to life, recognizing her presence with an eager pulsing that rivaled the chaotic rhythm of Julian's magical force.
"I can't," Julian replied, genuine regret in his voice. "It's too late. The process has begun. The reality is changing already. Can't you feel it?"
And she could. Not Earth itself—that realm was too many planes and worlds away for her to sense directly. But the pocket dimension housing Umbra Academy was shifting, reality rippling like fabric caught in a storm. Despite all of his research and calculations, Julian's ritual wasn't targeted well enough; it was altering fundamental magical constants across everywhere.
Mo sank deeper into the Thirteenth Chamber's power, the ancient platform responding to her bloodline with eager recognition. As she channeled its energy to counter Julian's ritual, she felt something horrifying—Milo's and Valerius's soul energy being consumed at double speed, now feeding both Julian's ritual and her own intervention.
Valerius' lips shifted like in slow motion, but Mo could guess what he was trying to say: "Hurry..." His perfect features beginning to blur at the edges. But Milo was in an even worse shape, his form barely recognizable now.
The sight triggered a visceral memory—Aldric's form dissolving in Blackthorn Keep's ritual chamber, his body breaking down into pure energy as she used him to anchor their emergency portal. The same magical energy particles, the same terrible moment when a person became nothing but raw potential. Back then, she'd told herself it was necessary—her friends needed to escape, and Aldric had betrayed her. But watching it happen to Milo, an innocent student who had only wanted to help, made her stomach turn with recognition of the chain of events she had launched by her decision.
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Time slowed as Mo faced an impossible choice: her childhood nemesis, who had unexpectedly helped her tonight, or that first-year student who had pledged a blood debt to her after the Midnight Trial rescue. She could feel both connections, both lives, slipping away—but she couldn't save both.
Julian sensed her intervention, his face contorting with fury. "No!" he shouted, fingers twisting in a complex gesture that pulled violently at both anchors. Milo's form flickered like a dying light bulb, his remaining essence draining in a sudden rush. Valerius doubled over, a scream caught in his throat as Julian redirected the ritual's hunger toward him.
"You don't understand what you're stopping!" Julian's voice cracked with desperation as sweat and blood mingled on his face. "This is for everyone!"
Mo's power strained against his, the platform beneath her feet pulsing erratically as their energies clashed. The chamber's stone walls began to crack, hairline fractures spreading like spider webs.
"Mo!"
The shout came from the doorway. Nyx burst through in a form Mo had never seen before—part shadow, part liquid obsidian, flowing across the threshold with Lucian close behind, frost spiraling from his fingertips.
Julian's concentration faltered for just an instant, his eyes darting toward the newcomers. "No—stay back!"
It was all Mo needed. She drove her power through the momentary lapse in his attention, severing the connection between Valerius and the ritual while simultaneously flooding the anchor point with her own energy.
Julian screamed—not with sound, but with pure magical resonance that shattered glass and cracked stone. The sphere of blinding light extended from Julian's palm, expanding outward in a silent explosion that consumed everything it touched. Mo threw herself backward, her body colliding with Valerius as they tumbled away from the blast radius.
When her vision cleared, a perfect spherical void had replaced where Julian once stood. The ritual platform was partially gone, cleanly sheared away as if cut by a divine blade. Sections of the ceiling had vanished, revealing the night sky above. Several professors who had been closest to Julian were missing limbs, their bodies ending in impossibly smooth surfaces where the sphere of annihilation had touched them.
Of Julian and Milo, nothing remained.
"What... what just happened?" Valerius asked, voice barely above a whisper, genuine awe in his tone.
Mo stared at the perfect hemispherical void where Julian had stood moments before. "I think he... folded reality. Or maybe reality folded him. We didn't have any reports of anything similar happening after I… used Aldric."
Nyx flowed closer, rippling with uncertainty. "Is he... gone? Like, permanently gone? Or just gone to somewhere else?" They extended a tendril toward the edge of the void, then thought better of it and pulled back.
"The ritual was unstable," Lucian observed, frost patterns forming analytical diagrams in the air before him. "When conflicting energies meet at critical thresholds, dimensional barriers can rupture. Winter teaches that even the most rigid boundaries can shatter under sufficient pressure." He looked at Mo intently. "Especially if sufficient coldness is applied as well."
"So he could be anywhere," Valerius said. "Or nowhere. Just perfect."
"Did he succeed?" Nyx asked. "Is Earth getting all magical now? Are baristas going to be casting fireballs at difficult customers?"
Mo closed her eyes, feeling for the connections that had been so visceral moments before. "Something has shifted. I can feel it—like an echo across planes. Not the flood he wanted, but... something went through."
She looked at Nyx intensely. "Hey… I'm sorry about what happened there, during the Ball."
"And what exactly happened there?"
"I…"
Around them, the professors were beginning to stir, the spell that had frozen them dissipating with Julian's disappearance. Several clutched the air where their suddenly-missing limbs should have been, their expressions shifting from confusion to horror as they realized parts of their bodies had simply ceased to exist.
"My arm!" one of them gasped, staring at the perfectly smooth surface where their right arm had once been. "It's... it doesn't even hurt. It's just... not."
The Headmaster's robes had been partially cleaved away, revealing roiling darkness where flesh should have been. He seemed more inconvenienced than injured, shadows already extending to replace what had been lost.
"I don't know what's happened," Mo admitted, exhaustion washing over her as the adrenaline began to fade. "But I can feel that something has shifted. The magic... it's different now."
Headmaster Ashenfall's eyes fixed on Mo, shadows writhing around him like living snakes. "Lady Nightshade, Lord Frostbrook, Lord Obscuris, and..." his gaze moved to Valerius, "...Lord Crowe. You are all to be detained immediately for questioning regarding this catastrophic breach of dimensional protocols."
He raised a hand still trailing wisps of void-matter. "Professors, secure these students."
Before the faculty could move, Professor Malvolia burst through the doorway, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled but her expression fiercely composed.
"Not another word," she hissed at Mo and her companions, then turned toward the Headmaster with a formal bow. "Headmaster Ashenfall, I can personally vouch for Lady Nightshade's actions here tonight. She was attempting to contain the damage, not cause it."
The Headmaster's ancient eyes narrowed, shadows coalescing around him like a cloak of living darkness. "How fortuitous that you should arrive at this precise moment, Professor Malvolia. Perhaps you can explain your assistant's activities while you're both being detained. The Academy will be most interested in your involvement with this catastrophe."
Malvolia's composure flickered for just an instant before she recovered. "If that's your decision, Headmaster Ashenfall. But I must strongly advise that Lady Nightshade not utter another word until she's consulted with her Soul Councilor. As a leader of one of the Great Houses, she's entitled to representation before any formal interrogation."
"Soul Councilor?" Mo groaned. "What was that—some kind of demonic therapist to help me process the trauma of consuming other people's souls?"
"So, do you confess to consuming souls during this ritual?" asked the Headmaster.
"Not another word, Lady Morgana!" said Professor Malvolia sharply.
"Or is it a spiritual advisor for the ethically challenged?" Mo continued, entranced in her train of thought. Then understanding dawned. "Oh, I forgot. There are lawyers here as well. What could be worse?!"
"Not lawyers, dear," Malvolia corrected with a thin smile. "Soul Councilors are much worse. They'll actually fight for your eternal essence, not just your temporary freedom."
The Headmaster's face contorted with frustration. "This goes beyond student disciplinary matters, Malvolia. The very fabric of reality has been compromised!"
"All the more reason to follow proper protocols," Malvolia said. "The High Council will certainly take an interest in these events. We wouldn't want them questioning our procedural integrity, would we?"
As the professors argued, Mo felt something unexpected stirring beneath her exhaustion—not defeat, but a strange, electric clarity. Her white suit, now even a more chaotic tapestry of blood and magical residue, felt like a second skin rather than a costume. Before, she planned to magically clean it. Now, she decided to save it for special occasions.
As the Headmaster finally stepped forward to take her into custody, Mo realized something with startling clarity: this wasn't the end of her story. It was barely the beginning.
The multitude of worlds of changing. Julian's fate was unknown. The Tournament loomed ahead, if she was even allowed to stay in the Academy after this debacle. Blackthorn Keep still needed her leadership. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be allowed to visit her favorite bookstore and hoard some coffee for herself and her friends.
But what was the most important, she'd finally figured out who she truly was—not just a barista hiding from her heritage, not just a Dark Lady playing by others' rules, but someone forging her own path between worlds.
Even as spectral bonds materialized around her wrists—elegant but unmistakably restraining—Mo felt strangely energized. The trauma of what she'd witnessed, the enormity of what had happened, should have crushed her. Instead, she found herself standing straighter, meeting the Headmaster's gaze without flinching. The challenge ahead was monumental, yes, but for the first time since arriving at Umbra, she felt equal to it.
Whatever came next, she would face it as her complete self.
Mo, Morgana Elaris Vexaria Nyx Nightshade, barista and Dark Lady, the consumer of Lord Aldric's soul, ready to rewrite the rules of villainy one impossible choice at a time.