"Then we die free instead of living controlled. I can accept that outcome."
"Comforting."
"You asked."
The first day of travel passed without incident. We made camp in a small clearing as darkness fell, using magical heating stones to ward off the mountain cold. Dinner was field rations, efficient but tasteless. We took turns keeping watch even though the area was supposed to be secure. Old habits from too many dangerous missions.
During my watch shift, I sat with my back against a tree and thought about what we were walking toward. Two weeks of training. Three stages, Perception, Contact, Severance. Each more dangerous than the last. Most people who attempted this died during Contact when their life force destabilized. Those who reached Severance usually died from the backlash when reality fought back.
Victoria had survived. Ezekiel had survived. That made two successful students in recorded history.
We were trying to make it four.
