Henry pushed himself off the leather couch, the exhaustion in his eyes momentarily replaced by a cold, sharp focus. He walked toward Serena and Wanda, his boots thumping softly on the carpet.
"Alright," he said, his voice dropping into a low, business-like rasp. "Let's do this."
He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out three thick, heavy cards. They weren't standard playing cards; the backs were a deep midnight blue, embossed with a large, intricate star shape that seemed to shimmer even in the dim light. He handed one to each of them.
Morgana turned her card over, her brow arching as she studied the illustration: a figure in ornate robes standing before an altar, a hand raised toward the heavens. "The Magician," she murmured, a trace of suspicion in her voice. "These look ominous, Henry. What exactly are you playing at?"
Serena flipped hers to find "The World"—a figure surrounded by a wreath of laurel, symbolizing completion and totality. Wanda, however, paled as she looked at her own: a skeletal figure draped in black, wielding a gleaming scythe.
"Death," Wanda whispered, her fingers trembling slightly. She looked up at Henry. "How are these supposed to help her build a Domain?"
Henry let out a dry, short laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "I never said they would. But I'd suggest you keep them close. Don't lose them—you might find they're the only things that remain 'real' where we're going."
Before they could press him for more, Henry raised his hand. He didn't chant or draw a circle; he simply flicked his wrist, and a coil of violent, searing orange flames erupted from the floor. The fire didn't burn the wood; instead, it spiraled upward, tearing a jagged, glowing rift into the very air of the lounge.
Without a word, Henry stepped through the burning portal.
Serena, Wanda, and Morgana shared a final, tense look before following him into the heat. As the last of them crossed the threshold, the portal snapped shut, leaving the Teacher's Lounge in silence.
The air on the other side was bitingly cold and tasted of salt and iron. They were no longer in the Academy.
They stood on a narrow bridge of dark stone, suspended over an infinite abyss. All around them, thousands of monolithic Obsidian Towers rose from the darkness, their peaks stretching thousands of meters into a sky that held no stars.
Instead of snow, a fine, ghostly white ash fell silently from the heights, coating their shoulders like funeral dust. The only light came from the towers themselves—strips of glowing blue energy that ran up the sides of the black stone, casting an unearthly, cold radiance over the entire landscape.
"Where are we?" Serena whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft, rhythmic hiss of the falling ash. The scale of the obsidian towers was dizzying, like standing at the roots of a dead world.
As she spoke, a figure materialized from the swirling white haze. It was a woman with skin the color of marble and hair as dark as the towers behind her. She wore a floor-length black gown that seemed to absorb the blue light of the conduits. She glided toward them, her movements liquid and unnatural.
She stopped before Henry, tilting her head. "Master," she said, her voice like wind through dry leaves. "Are these women your wives, Master?"
Henry let out a long, pained sigh, rubbing his temples. "No. And for the last time, Abby, I told you to call me Henry."
The woman—Abaddon—offered a faint, haunting smile. "I cannot do that. So tell me, Master... are they the Damned? Do you wish for me to lead them to the towers for punishment?"
"No one is being processed," Henry countered, though his tone was weary rather than angry. "They're guests. I'll explain the details later, but for now, show some manners and introduce yourself."
She turned her gaze toward the three women, her eyes devoid of warmth but filled with a strange, ancient intelligence. "My apologies. That was uncouth of me. I am Abaddon, though as the Master said, you may call me Abby. I... manage the affairs of this place."
Serena looked from Abby to the monolithic structures around them. "What is this place? Is this your Mind Domain, Henry?"
Abby's smile widened just enough to be unsettling. "I am not permitted to reveal the nature of this realm. My apologies."
Wanda stepped forward, her hand tightening around the "Death" card Henry had given her. "Henry, we have to hurry. Serena's seal on that Jester is thin. She won't be able to hold it for much longer."
"She's right," Morgana added, her eyes scanning the dark horizon. "The longer we wait, the more of her Archive we lose."
Abby let out a soft, melodic chuckle. "That little thing scratching inside her head? It has no power here. In this place, the Master's will is the only law." She turned back to Henry, her expression turning inquisitive. "If not for punishment, Master, why are they here?"
"I'm going to help her open her own Mind Domain," Henry said, his voice turning dead serious. "She needs to cage the creature or destroy it."
Abby's gaze drifted back to Serena, appraising her with a cold, clinical eye. "She is too young. Too fragile. The transition will likely break her."
"For the last time," Serena interjected, stepping into Abby's space despite the chill radiating from the woman. "I can do it. Stop talking about me like I'm not standing here. Just let me start."
Abby held her gaze for a moment, then gave a sharp, singular nod. "Very well. I admire the fire, even if it is destined to go out." She snapped her fingers.
The sound of galloping hooves thundered against the stone bridge. Out of the darkness charged a massive black stallion, its eyes glowing with the same blue light as the towers. Astride it sat a knight clad in interlocking plates of matte-black armor. He reined the beast in, the horse rearing back as he looked at Abby.
"What is your command, My Lady?" the knight asked, his voice muffled by a heavy visor.
His gaze then shifted to Henry. In an instant, the knight dismounted, his heavy armor clanking as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head low. "Forgive me, my King. I did not see you through the ash."
Henry gave a short, dry laugh. "It's alright, Alloces. Get up. You know I don't care for the theatrics."
Abby pointed a slender finger at Serena. "Alloces, take the girl to one of the towers. Assist her in opening her Domain. Do not let her out until the architecture is set and the foundation is laid."
Alloces rose, his armored form towering over Serena. He mounted his stallion once more and reached down, gesturing for her to climb up.
Serena hesitated, looking back at Henry for a final confirmation. The weight of the moment—and the sheer impossibility of where she was—finally seemed to hit her.
"Go," Henry said, his expression softening just a fraction. "You're safe here. They don't bite."
Serena took a breath, gripped Alloces' gauntleted hand, and hauled herself up behind him. With a powerful kick, the black horse leaped forward, carrying them away into the white ash toward the towering obsidian monoliths.