[Scene: Post-Final Trial – The Garden of Passage]
The golden door behind Katrina clicked shut.
She stepped into open air.
The world outside was nothing like the chambers before — no walls, no stone.
Just sky.
And a garden.
Wide, green, glowing with soft sunlight. Clean-cut hedges lined the border. Fountains bubbled gently. Birds floated over the trees like the chaos inside had never existed.
Scattered across the lawn were the successful candidates.
Some lay on their backs in the grass, laughing like they had just survived war — which, in a way, they had.
Others sat in small groups, strategizing, whispering theories.
Katrina didn't stop walking.
Her eyes scanned.
Not for beauty.
Not for serenity.
For allies.
For guild-mates.
Somewhere in the garden,
Kael — grinning, feet kicked up, arms behind his head.
Solis — sitting cross-legged beside him, blade still across his back, watching the others with a calculating calm.
Kael (grinning wide): "You know that Gate 3 everyone was dying trying to open?"
He raised a finger triumphantly.
Kael: "I just kicked it… and it opened."
He burst out laughing, practically standing on his own joke.
Solis (flatly): "By your logic, I should've just cut it in half."
He sighed, shaking his head.
Solis: "You're going to get yourself disqualified if you keep playing around."
Kael was still chuckling when his eyes locked onto someone near the courtyard path.
A girl.
Scanning the field like she was counting every blade of grass.
Kael (blinking): "…That's Katrina."
Solis turned slightly — his gaze sharpened.
Solis: "Yes. It is."
Kael stood — already moving.
Kael (yelling): "HEY, KATRINA! YOU PASSED TOO? YOU'RE THIRD!"
Katrina heard him.
She stopped mid-step.
Looked at him.
Her face barely changed.
Katrina (internal, dry): "His civic sense is below ground level."
Kael dashed across the grass — all arms and enthusiasm — when thud—
He slammed shoulder-first into another candidate, nearly knocking himself back.
Kael (half-breathless): "Ah — sorry, dude!"
He waved a hand, already stepping forward again.
But the man he'd bumped didn't move.
Instead, he grabbed Kael's wrist — firm, sudden.
Kael (startled): "…I said I'm sorry, man."
The guy didn't speak.
He just raised a fist.
But before that fist could fall—
CRACK.
A streak of lightning-purple slashed through the air.
Katrina.
She was behind him before anyone saw her move.
Her whip — humming like a live wire — hovered inches from the attacker's neck.
Katrina (low, sharp): "Try to hit him…"
The purple arcs sparked brighter.
Katrina: "…and you die."
Kael blinked.
Then grinned.
Kael (to the attacker, casually): "She's a psycho you should listen."