Pt. 090 — Day 10 Cycle End Ceremony

As white light cleared from eight circles around the intake hall, silence reigned.

Evelyn recognized the marble beneath her boots, the gold lines in the floor, and the podium at the far end. She was back inside the circle she had occupied that morning. Her fingers were still wrapped around Van's hand, though the long hours on the other side of the transport had made that gesture feel much less ordinary.

He looked down at their joined hands, then across the hall. A scrape marked his uniform's shoulder, and a gray streak of dust crossed his cheek. Whatever the Hotel had substituted for the blow he'd taken earlier was still troubling him. Evelyn could sense the effort he was making to keep his attention on the room and the eight Vans scattered throughout.

Lizzy's stood beside her with extinguisher powder across his chest and hair. The Van next to Mara held her hand while she tried to steady her breathing. Katherine and her companion were dripping river water onto the marble. Naomi had drawn close against her Van's side; her shredded uniform offered little protection from the cooler air of the hall, and she seemed to be concentrating fiercely on keeping her drain contained.

Across from them, Fiona's Van was down on one knee. His hand lay flat against the marble, his posture so rigid that Evelyn wondered whether he could stand without help. Fiona took a step toward him and checked herself.

Cassie arrived with her hands on her hips, her impossible pink skirt flaring around her boots.

“Wow! Everybody's back!” she announced with a smile so bright it made her wince.

Her Van bent his head. She caught him suppressing a laugh and glared at him, although the costume quickly rearranged her expression into something more cheerful.

[I'm going to burn this outfit.]

“Do…do you think I should keep the outfit, Master?” she asked him shyly, her fingers twisting together in hesitation.

“I don’t think there’s a safe way to talk to you when you’re like this.”

[Finally, he makes some sense!]

“Don’t say that!” She bent at the waist with her knees locked together. Her face was scrunched in a comical pout.

A jolt passed through Evelyn's arm where the day's substituted injury still lingered. She shifted her weight and found it difficult to keep her thoughts in order. It was a sharply pleasant sensation and was distracting enough to make her wonder what the others had endured. Mara had closed her eyes against the glare of the projections; Lizzy kept losing her grip on the hem of one dusty sleeve. From Fiona's circle came the rasp of a breath drawn too quickly through an exhausted throat.

Verena stood behind her podium in an immaculate dark dress, her hair fastened neatly away from her face. Her clothes and bearing were arranged with mathematical precision. The contrast was almost offensive.

“Welcome home,” she said.

Fiona's Van tried to rise. He made it halfway before his arm trembled and he had to brace himself again.

“Van,” Fiona said.

He recoiled at the sound of her voice.

She stopped reaching for him. Her fingers remained open in the space between them, then slowly closed against her palm.

Evelyn turned toward the podium, granting them what little privacy the circles allowed.

“Please remain within your assigned positions,” Verena said. “Today's challenge is not yet concluded. The injury substitutions and other temporary effects will remain active until this ceremony is complete.”

Cassie raised a hand to protest. She seemed to forget what she meant to say halfway through the motion; the resulting wave was painfully enthusiastic.

[I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!]

“Oh, that's just wonderful.”

“Your patience is appreciated,” Verena replied.

Cassie put both hands behind her back and held them there while the projection above the podium expanded.

DAY 10 CHALLENGE

FINAL RANKINGS

The names appeared in order, each accompanied by two columns. Across the circles, contestants straightened to read.

1 — CASSIE LIN — 8 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 6 | MASTER PROTECTION: 2/3

2 — CLAIRE MERCER — 6 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 4 | MASTER PROTECTION: 2/3

3 — KATHERINE WREN — 5 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 2 | MASTER PROTECTION: 3/3

4 — EVELYN CROSS — 4 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 2 | MASTER PROTECTION: 2/3

4 — ELIZA QUINN — 4 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 2 | MASTER PROTECTION: 2/3

5 — MARA ELLISON — 3 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 1 | MASTER PROTECTION: 2/3

5 — NAOMI HALE — 3 VP

ALTERS DEFEATED: 2 | MASTER PROTECTION: 1/3

6 — FIONA KAVANAGH — 0 VP

MASTER PROTECTION: 0/3 | SCORE INVALIDATED

Lizzy read the top line twice, then looked toward Cassie. Her fatigue gave way to a delighted smile. “Cassie! You won.”

Cassie glanced at the score, then at her Van. Her hands flew together in an involuntary clap. “Oh my gosh! We did it!”

“Eight points is an excellent result,” Verena said. “You protected your Master, made effective use of your own power, and—most importantly—worked with him rather than treating him as an obstacle.”

“Miss Lin, given the evident success of your partnership, you may wish to retain the Pretty Princess effect,” Verena said. “It can be purchased as a permanent transformation.”

Cassie's smile widened against her will. She made herself look straight at the Headmistress.

[I’d rather die in a garbage truck fire.]

She gestured toward her pink skirt, only to find her hand finishing in a delicate flourish. “Thank you very much for the lovely offer, but it really is up to Master Van.”

“As you wish. Pretty Princess will remain available in the transformation shop should another contestant desire its benefits.”

********************************************

Verena touched the last line of the ranking. It brightened, taking the color out of Cassie's victory.

“Miss Kavanagh.”

Fiona had been watching the man beside her. He managed to get upright against her shoulder, though his knees were still unreliable. She took the weight carefully, as if afraid a sudden movement might hurt him again.

“What?” Her voice emerged in a dry scrape.

Verena studied the figure for several seconds. “Before we continue, there is a matter of cycle grading to address.”

“Your cumulative point leaves you last by a considerable margin. Your challenge result and the record of this cycle have made you eligible for disciplinary review. I am considering elimination.”

Cassie leaned forward. “She fought harder than anybody.”

“No one is disputing her combat output, Miss Lin.”

Verena stepped out from behind her podium.

The gold lines on the floor bent minutely away from her shoes. Van thought the straight edge of the podium had curved, until he looked directly at it and found it straight again. Light arrived at Verena's face from angles that should have left her in shadow.

Evelyn shifted her stance, trying to resolve the distortion. From one point the Headmistress appeared only a few steps away; from another, farther across the same stretch of marble, the distance to her did not seem to change at all. Even the evenly spaced gold marks beneath Evelyn's feet no longer aligned with the space they crossed.

Verena adjusted one cuff. Her voice filled with an icy calm.

“Miss Kavanagh has repeatedly resisted the structure that makes her continued development possible. Resistance is permitted. Failure to perform the obligations of a contestant has consequences. An elimination outcome is available.”

“You don't get to—” Fiona began.

The rest of the sentence simply ceased to be, as if the words had been excised from the world around them. Fiona’s mouth went still and even the air in her lungs stopped moving.

“Please refrain from interrupting the assessment,” Verena said. “There are several possible outcomes.”

Fiona moved toward her. One step became an exhausting stretch of motion, her boot descending onto marble no nearer the podium than before.

“A household companion, perhaps?”

Fiona was on all fours. There had been no fall, no moment to catch herself, no transition from standing to crawling. Her palms and knees were simply on the marble, and an unfamiliar insistence in her muscles told her that was where they belonged. She tried to stand. Her shoulders moved, but her back settled again into an obedient posture.

She tried to voice a challenge, but what emerged from her mouth was a small animal sound.

“Fiona?” Cassie was moving before anyone answered.

Fiona turned toward that familiar voice with an eagerness her mind did not share. She tried to hold Cassie's gaze and make her understand that she was still herself. Her body wanted to lower its head.

“Too limited,” Verena decided. “A pleasant domestic presence might be more flexible.”

Fiona was suddenly upright in neat heels and pearls, her hair arranged with immaculate precision. Her hands folded politely at her waist. A welcoming smile appeared on her face and remained there when she tried to pull it apart.

She meant to threaten Verena, to curse at her, or when those failed she wanted to beg. Instead she heard her own voice smooth and melodic,

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mistress Verena.” A tear slid down her cheek without disturbing the smile. “ I look forward to the opportunity to serve my Master’s household needs.”

Cassie stopped short. “Stop already! She knows what's happening. Look at her.”

“Of course she does,” Verena said. “The continued presence of an identifiable personality is one of the parameters under consideration.”

Cassie looked toward Evelyn. “Can we get her out of there?”

Evelyn was studying the warped stretch of floor. “I don't know how, even my power won’t reach far enough to touch her right now.”

“Perhaps a more permanent household function,” Verena continued without considering the others’ debate about her possible vulnerability.

Fiona was once again on her knees, this time locked beneath a padded surface that had become part of the arrangement of her body. Pressure spread across her back as a fitted leather cushion covered her from neck to hips. Her arms and legs were affixed to posts joined to the seat above her. She tried to roll away and found that even the most subtle movement of shoulders or limbs were no longer available to her. All of her efforts only resulted in a sultry wiggle of her exposed rear. Her hands trembled against the floor and her breath caught.

Van stepped toward her, but the distance refused to shorten. The sound of Fiona's strangled effort brought back the final minutes of her challenge, the terrible force of her voice and the helplessness of being trapped beneath it. He had wanted her to stop then. Now he wanted desperately to hear her speak.

“Headmistress,” Evelyn said. “You've demonstrated what you can do. Is this necessary? Look at her!” She stabbed a finger towards the trembling woman, “Isn’t this enough?”

“An imagined outcome tells me less than an observed one, Miss Cross.” Her answer came with no more emotion than a bank teller reading a balance sheet. It was clear that this scene held no horror for her.

“Unsuitable for ordinary conversation,” Verena added, turning her attention back to Fiona. “Or perhaps a companion designed principally for private amusement.”

The next change left Fiona upright in decorative lingerie, with an inviting expression that moved across her face against her will. Her hand lifted in a practiced gesture of invitation. She toyed with the strap of her negligee while giggling at Van.

It was the ease of it that terrified her. She had believed she understood what the Hotel could take: clothing, abilities, habits, an unwanted desire. She had never felt a flood of unwanted emotions stamped indelibly over her own heart and mind in the same amount of time someone would change the channel on a tv.

The sick realization finally settled in as she could feel an overwhelming desire flood her senses. She wanted nothing in life more than to fall to her knees and worship Van, to cater to his needs and desires, to have him claim her body with his own. And quietly, insidiously, beneath the need, the lust, and the intense burning submission, her old self was thrashing against the bars of a cage that would never bend.

*****************************************

Naomi reached Cassie's side. She kept her hands close to herself, careful not to brush anyone in the crowded space, but planted herself where Fiona could see her. Mara drew Lizzy back from the twisting edge of the floor.

Verena regarded the alternatives with the same thoughtful attention she might pay to a selection of paint samples.

“The eliminated contestant remains within the season in a subordinate capacity. A replacement will be drawn from her prior life. Your mother is eligible, Miss Kavanagh. Your former roommate, your older sister, perhaps a cousin of whom you are especially fond. It depends on the final selection criteria.”

Fiona stopped struggling with the smile and tried instead to make a sound. Her mother. She saw the woman being placed into a gold circle, having her own life explained away by this demon in a dark dress. The thought cut through the fear for herself with a clarity that hurt.

Her mouth continued its welcoming expression. Tears ran freely now.

“You can't take her mother,” Lizzy shouted. She was squeezing her hands into fists, but she made herself release her grip. “She's not part of this.”

“Nor were any of you before selection,” Verena answered. “The procedure is not contingent upon prior participation.”

Van stopped trying to cross the impossible distance. He looked at Verena instead.

“Please,” he said.

“Master Van?”

“Put her back. Don't eliminate her. You made your point.”

“I am not making a point. I am considering the appropriate graded outcome. On what basis do you request an exception?”

Van looked at Fiona. The strange expression on her face made it hard to see the woman who had glared at him and demanded he leave her alone. He remembered that woman perfectly well.

“She fought for you. She did everything she could.”

“No, Master Van. She fought because it is in her nature to fight.”

“I know.” He hated how quickly he had said it. “I know what happened. I remember all of it.”

“Then you are aware that her performance throughout the cycle is not being misrepresented.”

Van opened his mouth with an answer already prepared. Fiona had refused help. Fiona had shouted at him. Fiona had made it impossible to get close.

“She didn't want me interfering,” he began. “I was trying to respect—”

The truth pulled the rest of the sentence in a direction he had not intended.

“I was trying not to make it my problem.”

He looked at Verena, then at Evelyn. “She treated me badly,” he continued, more slowly. “I was afraid she'd think any help I offered was another order from the Master. And I was afraid the others would think that too. After everything they've been put through, I didn't want to be the man who starts making people obey him.”

Evelyn watched without comment, but her expression softened.

“But I could see it wasn't working. I knew she was struggling, and I kept waiting for someone else to handle it. I told myself I was giving her space.” His voice had risen. He brought it down with effort. “Part of me was just relieved to stay away.”

Fiona's borrowed smile faltered for an instant. Van looked at her again.

“I'm not saying she did nothing wrong. She hurt me. She nearly got us both killed. But I knew she needed help, and I did nothing because I was more frightened of looking like I was taking charge than I was of what might happen if nobody did.”

Cassie had turned toward him. The expression on her face was difficult to bear, but she let him finish.

“I don't get to put all of this on her. I'm the Master here, whether I like the title or not. That ought to mean something when somebody is failing in front of me. Give me the chance to do better.”

Verena regarded him with renewed interest. The curvature of the floor lines relaxed a fraction. “That is a more satisfactory interpretation of your role, Master Van.”

“Then let her stay.”

“There is an alternative, but it incurs an exchange. You may accept responsibility for Miss Kavanagh's continued eligibility. In exchange, the season will permit this elimination to be reduced to a permanent punishment transformation.”

“I'll do it.”

“I have not finished.”

He closed his mouth.

“This accommodation will be offered once. You may save Miss Kavanagh now, but you will not be able to exercise the same privilege for another contestant in a later cycle.”

Her gaze passed, with unmistakable deliberation, to Lizzy.

Van followed it. Lizzy stood near Mara with wet cheeks and her fingers pressed against the edge of her sleeve. She looked frightened, but didn’t interrupt.

“Understood,” he said with a sharp nod.

Verena nodded in return. “Then elimination is suspended. Miss Kavanagh will retain contestant status.”

Fiona's imposed smile vanished. She was herself again, kneeling awkwardly on the marble in the clothes she had worn into the hall. She drew in a harsh breath and stared at her hands, flexing her fingers one at a time. Cassie hurried to her side but stopped short of grabbing her.

Verena raised one finger. “The substitute penalty must now be applied.”

FIONA KAVANAGH — PERMANENT PUNISHMENT TRANSFORMATION

NOISE COMPLAINT

Fiona struggles with self-control issues. The Hotel has prepared a solution. Whenever Van wishes to activate this punishment, he need only say “Heel,” and a magical gag and matching restraints will appear already secured in place. The nature and extent of the restraints are determined by Van's intentions at the moment of summoning. Fiona cannot avoid or remove the restraints until Van releases her by saying “Come.” While gagged, Fiona cannot use any of her powers.

Fiona read the card, stopping at the two command words. The gag would silence her. The restraints could be whatever Van wanted them to be. Her powers—everything she'd trained to control, everything she'd used to keep other people alive—would be unavailable whenever he decided to invoke the punishment.

“No,” she said. Her abused throat made the word little more than breath. “You can't give him that.”

“Your continued participation is proceeding under Master Van's sponsorship,” Verena explained. “It is fitting to give him the tools necessary to manage the contestant whose eligibility he has assumed responsibility for.”

“And in the spirit of full disclosure,” Verana angled her chin towards Fiona. “Heel.”

A brief flare of light and shadow bloomed outward from Fiona's mouth, crawling backwards from her lips to join behind her head. Bands of shadow burst from behind the redhead, wrapping forward and curving back to rejoin their source. In less time than it took to blink, Fiona found herself kneeling with her arms bound behind her back, joined together to the elbow. Her hips were seated firmly on her feet and a strap ran from the rear of a dark collar to a fitting between her ankles.

“I didn't ask for that!” Van cried. “Release her!”

“You asked to take charge of her welfare. An appropriate degree of authority will make that duty manageable.”

“That's not what I meant.”

Verena considered him. “A responsibility without the means to discharge it is an inefficient arrangement, Master Van. I am correcting that deficiency.” She inclined her head slightly, “But, as this is your leash to hold and I was merely demonstrating its effectiveness,” she turned back to Fiona.

“Come.”

The shadow dark bindings and gag disappeared in an instant, leaving her breathing heavily, kneeling on the marble with a wild look in her eye.

Cassie stepped between Fiona and the podium. “You're calling that a correction? It's magical slavery is what it is!”

“Yes,” Verena said. “Should he choose it, he can enforce it with a word. He can release her just as simply. Perhaps now that he possesses the power she has always feared, she can judge his actions more clearly.”

Van looked toward Fiona. She had been trying to get upright without letting anyone help her; now Cassie held out an arm, and Fiona took it only long enough to stand.

“Fiona,” he began. They looked at each other briefly, but Fiona couldn’t hold his gaze.

For an instant Van wanted to promise that he would never use it. The certainty of that promise was frightening in a different way. He had just admitted how often avoiding a difficult choice had allowed a situation to worsen. He looked at Fiona's hands, clenched at her sides, and kept the promise to himself.

Fiona understood the hesitation as well as he did. She turned away from him.

Cassie stayed close, no longer quite between them but ready to move if Fiona asked. After what had happened in their room, she had learned the cost of reaching out before she was wanted. She offered her hand palm-up. Fiona stared at it, then shook her head. Cassie lowered it.

The card's gold border settled into a steady light. Fiona's elimination marker disappeared.

*******************************************

Verena returned her attention to the screens floating behind her. “Now that is settled, we can move on to the remainder of this cycle’s conclusion”

At her gesture, light crawled across the empty air, screens appearing to display the season’s rankings.

CUMULATIVE VICTORY POINTS

END OF FIRST CYCLE

MARA ELLISON — 21 VP

CASSIE LIN — 19 VP

ELIZA QUINN — 19 VP

EVELYN CROSS — 19 VP

CLAIRE MERCER — 17 VP

NAOMI HALE — 17 VP

KATHERINE WREN — 15 VP

FIONA KAVANAGH — 1 VP

“Your total Victory Points include qualifying achievements earned outside the formal challenge,” Verena explained.

Katherine gave her waterlogged sleeve a rueful glance. “I hope one of mine is a towel.”

“More useful, I think. You have reached ten points, which grants you a Hotel cell phone, and fifteen, which reveals your first transformation path.”

A slim phone appeared on a little gold platform above Katherine's circle. She took it, examined the screen, and tucked it into the least damaged portion of her costume.

“Further, Verena continued,” Your first path has been unlocked and is the Metamorph Path.”

Katherine accepted the announcement without comment.

“Before we move on, there is the matter of your punishment transformation related to the failure to secure the dossier.” Verena’s attention fixed on Katherine and the light in the room followed that weight, creating a pale circle around her in the otherwise darkened chamber.

“Unlike, Miss. Kavanagh, your failure is considered routine among contestants and will only result in a temporary penalty lasting until the end of this new cycle.” A glowing card revolved from nothing, displaying the woman’s fate.

KATHERINE WREN - TEMPORARY PUNISHMENT

DEAD DROP, GORGEOUS

Katherine has shown impressive foresight in stashing tools and weapons in advance for emergencies. She also used her gift of the Yuri Bait Derringer in a way the giver never intended. As part of her punishment, each day we will remove several of her key espionage skills and hide them within another contestant. The contestant will be totally unaware she possesses the skills in question. To retrieve these skills, she must make out with the contestant. She regains the use of the lost skills for a length of time relative to how close she or the contestant comes to an orgasm. A brief kiss might let her pick locks for a minute or two, whereas leaving her partner in a quivering heap might just return the skill permanently.

Verena dismissed the card and summoned the next.

“Miss Lin. Nineteen Victory Points. Your first revealed path is Plasma Control.”

[Ok, and what the hell does that mean?]

“Oh! Thank you so much.” She turned to an invisible camera, blowing a kiss accompanied by a sharp pop of sparkling plasma. “Make sure and vote for this one!”

Van groaned, rubbed his face with both hands. “We have GOT to get rid of this.”

Verena moved on without comment.

“Miss Mercer. Telekinesis.”

Claire's ponytail stirred. A loose strand rose toward her Van and stopped just short of his shoulder. She caught it between two gloved fingers and drew it back, embarrassed by how difficult the small action had become.

The man beside her was still wearing a worried expression. His question about whether she intended to tell anyone about his secret was still heavy on her mind. He stood patiently now, waiting for Verena's next announcement and unaware of how often Claire had rehearsed the reassurance she'd wanted to give him.

“You all right?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said. Then, because he deserved better than another automatic answer, she added, “There is something I still owe you. When this is over.”

He looked at her for a moment before nodding.

“Miss Quinn,” Verena said. “Your first path is Phasing.”

Lizzy felt herself blush. She folded her hands to keep from trying to check her clothes in front of everyone.

“Miss Hale. Power Drain.”

Her Van had been quietly holding her hand since the train. She loosened her fingers but did not immediately let go.

Naomi's expression softened almost imperceptibly. She eased her hand from his and used it to straighten the ruined edge of her uniform. The movement was more comfortable than it had been an hour ago. Her control, at least, was improving.

“Miss Ellison,” Verena said. “Illusionist.”

Verena raised a second notice beneath Mara's card.

20 VP MILESTONE REACHED

UPGRADED DORMITORY ACCOMMODATIONS

“Your upgraded accommodations will be available when you retire this evening.”

Mara opened her mouth, considered the futility of further inquiry, and closed it.

“Today's challenge takes the place of your scheduled bond assignment,” Verena said. “Accordingly, no contestant is assigned to the Master Suite tonight. You may sleep in whichever bed you choose.”

“More importantly,” Verena continued, “your roommate assignments will now change.”

Four columns of names unfurled above the podium. They spun rapidly through combinations, paused, scrambled again, then slowed with a series of bright chimes.

NEW ROOMMATE ASSIGNMENTS

EVELYN CROSS — FIONA KAVANAGH

KATHERINE WREN — MARA ELLISON

CASSIE LIN — NAOMI HALE

CLAIRE MERCER — ELIZA QUINN

Claire's first response was a smile, though it faded when Lizzy's attention shifted to a glance between Cassie and Fiona.

Mara glanced toward Katherine, who was still leaving a wet trail on the marble. “I should probably warn you that Dream Girl has made sleeping near me a little complicated.”

“After this afternoon, I consider complications a normal household feature.” Katherine brushed damp hair away from her face. “We'll work it out.”

Naomi looked toward Cassie. The pink-clad girl waved with her usual furious embarrassment buried beneath the costume's relentless enthusiasm.

[I can’t fuck this up worse than I did with Fiona, at least.]

“Roomies!”

She looked past Naomi toward Fiona. Until moments ago, Fiona had been stuck with her. Now their fight was stuck between them and there was no time together to work on it. Cassie found herself watching Fiona's damaged throat and the way she refused to look at the Van beside her.

Evelyn studied the name beside her own. “We appear to be roommates, Miss Kavanagh.”

Fiona's answer was a rough, rattling breath. “I can read.”

“All of you were selected for this season with particular care,” Verena said. “Your personalities and abilities are complementary in ways you have only begun to discover. The System predicts substantial enrichment if you form strong relationships among yourselves.” She looked pointedly from one girl to the next, “Do not squander these opportunities.”

“The new cycle begins tomorrow. For the benefit of your planning, bond assignments will henceforth be posted in advance.”

DAY 11 — CASSIE LIN

DAY 12 — FIONA KAVANAGH

DAY 13 — ELIZA QUINN

DAY 14 — CLAIRE MERCER

DAY 15 — MARA ELLISON

DAY 16 — NAOMI HALE

DAY 17 — KATHERINE WREN

DAY 18 — EVELYN CROSS

Cassie read the first line of the schedule again. Tomorrow. There was no opportunity to let the ridiculous pink outfit become something the others remembered only as a joke.

Her Van gave her a look of inquiry.

[If you say the word pink tomorrow, I’ll start blasting.]

“I'm very excited,” she told him in a voice that made her want to bite her tongue. With visible effort she added, “An opportunity to spend all night with Senpai!”

“Sounds good,” he said with a dry chuckle. “We can watch Wai-fu Quest.”

Fiona stared at the second line. Day 12 meant another evening alone with Van. Her own Van was still keeping one hand braced against his knee, and she had not managed to say a complete sentence to him since the projection of her score. Evelyn watched Fiona draw a breath to try. The announcement had already moved on.

“Master Van,” Verena said, turning toward the central display. “I have another change to your living arrangements. I will no longer be curating your living quarters.”

Everyone raised their heads at that.

“What?” Katherine asked, flatly.

“Yes. The environments, furnishings, arrangements, and certain of the experiences available during each assignment were selected by me, with assistance from the System's assessments.”

The words took a moment to settle. Claire looked toward her Van, then toward Evelyn. Her floating hair drifted against her cheek and stayed there.

“You did all of that?” Claire asked. “Each night?”

“I oversaw the preparations for every guest, although I occasionally outsourced the execution to my staff.”

Katherine had already been examining Verena's phrasing. “You mean the room wasn't simply interpreting our preferences and making mistakes. You were deciding which preferences to indulge and which ones to frustrate.”

“Each arrangement served a developmental purpose.”

“Your purpose,” Katherine said. Her voice was steadier than her stance. “You knew what we were expecting because you had the assessments. You supplied something just close enough to make us recognize it, then watched what we did when it wasn't quite right. That's a very familiar technique. I would have been less surprised if you'd admitted you were running an interrogation.”

“The difference is sometimes one of degrees,” Verena replied.

Evelyn's eyes had not left her. “You reproduced my private lounge at Cross Dynamics, down to its furniture and the doorway to my bedroom.”

Evelyn did not look away. She could recall the weight of Van's hand and the things they had spoken of that night. She had to look at Verena again before she trusted herself to answer.

One of the Vans gave a short, incredulous laugh.

“So when I thought the suite was reading our minds or something wrong,” he said, “it was just you and a stack of reports? I kept trying to work out what I was supposed to do, trying to find a way to make them more comfortable. You were working against me and letting us think the suite had a mind of its own.”

“I did not ask you to regard the suite as a person, Master Van.”

From Fiona's circle came a rough, derisive sound. She looked between Verena and her own Van. The cease-fire she had managed with him during her previous assignment had felt like something wrested free of the Hotel. She couldn’t be certain which pressures Verena had anticipated. Van, meanwhile, kept his eyes lowered, in no condition to help her sort it out.

Verena let the murmurs continue long enough for everyone to understand that she had no intention of withdrawing the statement.

“Beginning tomorrow, the arrangements will change,” she said. “I will no longer curate the Master Suite for individual guests. Master Van and the contestants may spend Bonus Points to purchase permanent furnishings, amenities, and other available features. Once installed, those features will remain in place for subsequent assignments.”

A floor plan unfolded above the podium. Rooms appeared in fine gold lines; beds, doors, tables, and other fixtures acquired pale outlines and price markers.

“So you stop choosing for us,” Katherine said, “and let us gild our own cage.”

“You will have considerably more direct control over the environment.”

Evelyn looked at the empty floor plan. She could recognize the practical advantage without being grateful for it. Beside her, her Van was studying the same projection. He seemed to be considering what he could prevent the suite from doing to someone else.

Verena continued with the next adjustment. “Similarly, the lakefront shopping and recreation district will return to its base configuration tonight.”

Images of the lakefront rose in a soft arc: open walkways, broad lawns, empty plots facing the water.

“Restaurants, entertainment venues, and other permanent services may be unlocked through Bonus Point purchases. You may collaborate on such purchases as you wish.”

Cassie made a deeply offended noise that emerged as a delightful little giggle.

Verena touched the podium. The lakefront vanished and a tall gold-framed portrait display appeared behind her.

“Finally, a matter for our distinguished audience.”

She faced away from the circles and toward an empty section of the hall, smiling as though thousands of guests stood there waiting for her.

“Our contestants have completed their first cycle of extraordinary challenges. You have watched them struggle, adapt, surprise one another, and show you something of their true character. Once again, you are invited to choose your favorite.”

Eight portraits appeared, one for each contestant.

BEST GIRL POLL — SECOND ROUND

VOTING OPEN

Best Girl Poll #2

23 votes · Closes Nov 18, 2026, 12:00 PM (6 days from now)

Borda count: your first choice earns 7 points, with one fewer point for each later choice, down to zero. Unranked options earn zero points.

Log in to vote

*****************

“The results will award bonus Victory Points and Bonus Points to our contestants. Choose carefully. Your favorite may find that your support makes all the difference in the cycle ahead.”

“Additionally, our audience will receive the next selection of transformation options.” She gestured and a light shined onto the eight disconnected copies of Van, reflecting from each in a spray of prismatic color. The light reflected from the polished marble around them causing them to blink at the harshness. When the light cleared only one Van remained. He was clean and his uniform had been restored.

Van rocked back on his heels. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Evelyn crossed the darkened boundary, reached him first, and knelt beside him without touching him until he looked up.

“Van?”

He lowered his hands. His eyes moved from her to Claire, then Mara and Naomi, Cassie and Katherine, Lizzy and Fiona. There was recognition in every glance. It had not been there before.

“Are you all right?” Claire asked.

“Give me a minute.” He made an unsuccessful attempt to laugh. “I think I've had enough of being me for one day.”