[✓] 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐿𝑈𝐷𝐸 | 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒. 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐈𝐈: 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞

"You got this, girl," Valerie said to herself, nodding vigorously in hopes that it would convince her enough.

She tried again, her eyes shut tight. She opened them after a few minutes to see the same thing.

"Fuck, dude," Valerie groaned, shaking her head before letting out a sigh.

She ran the numbers over in her head again as she fingered the pendant of her necklace, cursing once more as she realized she had been off by a couple of decimals. 

Of course, the goddamn decimals screwed her over.

"Okay, Val." She took a deep breath and allowed determination to settle through her body as she nodded to herself once more. "Just run."

And run she did.

She closed her eyes in concentration, her fists clenched tightly as she sprinted. Her legs felt unstoppable as her feet collided against the unseen ground. Her hair flew behind her, tangling in itself. The feeling she loved overtook her; she couldn't be stopped by anyone nor anything. She could run forever. She was the fastest person alive. Nothing would be able to end her—

Bang!

"Ow," Valerie moaned as she rubbed her forehead, a frown settling on her face as her head began to pound with pain.

Her eyes widened as she realized that she was no longer standing on cold, hard, black, nothingness. She was laying on her back, and her hands softly gripped the soft carpet that was underneath her.

Her eyes shot open, immediately having to squint as light overwhelmed her eyes. She raised a hand to block the light and blinked a few times, trying to get used to the sudden brightness that she was so grateful for. 

And, with a gasp, she suddenly realized:

She had done it.

She was back.

Valerie scrambled to her feet and looked around, realizing that she was in the living room of the Academy. 

Natural sunlight streamed through the tall windows, and the crackle of the fire filled the air as it greeted the room with its warmth. And there, sitting on the couches, were five adults she didn't recognize at all. 

The one closest to her was sitting on one of the chairs next to the fireplace, and his brown eyes that were as widened as the others moistened a little as he examined her. His cropped hair was interrupted by a long scar that ended just at his right cheek, and he wore utility gear that contained a plethora of knives.

Seated on the other chair on the opposite side of the fireplace was a darker-skinned woman, who had tight blonde coils cascading around her shoulders. A crystal glass of whiskey was clutched in her hand, though her grip had considerably weakened when she had seen the girl.

On the couch next to Valerie was a man of great stature, whose upper body was significantly larger than the rest of him. His blue eyes stared at her with a mixture of confusion and surprise, and she returned the stare with just as much bafflement.

On the other couch sat another woman, much mousier than the others. Her brown hair was settled into a low bun, and her mouth was slightly agape before she pressed her lips together and swallowed. 

And way far back, preparing a drink for himself, was a man with messy hair and the air of good humour. He wore no shirt, but just a fur coat over top a flowing skirt that reached just past his knees. 

"Oh, uh . . ." Valerie awkwardly clasped her hands behind her back, her eyes shifting from person to person as she took a step back and offered, "Hi?"

"Va . . . Valerie?" the woman in the chair questioned softly, her eyes widening even further.