"Yes, Uchronia. Patience," Niwla said.

That was the final piece to the puzzle. However, just because one had all of the pieces did not necessarily mean that they had already found the answer.

"And how exactly am I supposed to learn the importance of patience in this context? Just keep beating these things until either one of us gives out?"

"Do you require an—"

Uchronia raised up a leaf, stopping him from speaking.

"Just let me think, okay. I can't believe you, of all people, managed to figure this out without using some sort of weird, convoluted logic. What is wrong with me?"

There was nothing wrong with her. He simply had access to more computational resources, which allowed him to piece together the solution much faster than her. As she continued to search for the answer, he would do his best to support her. In this context, support meant protecting her.

The alternate Uchronia continued to bounce around the cauldron, destroying the mini-cauldrons and their tools with the triple combination of Greater Haster, Boingweed, and Overbark.

Meanwhile, he resumed his onslaught of Withdrawal and Brainfreeze mist to the little flamelings while delivering a targeted injection of Withdrawal Mixed with Homing Ice Needles to the mini-cauldrons and tools.

To help support her even further, he flapped his wings, sending a light amount of Brainfreeze mist to help cool her off.

After multiple minutes of thinking, she finally came up with an answer.

"Alwin. I want you to verify my thought process."

"Very well," Niwla said.

"I did some thinking and realized that patience can be tested in two ways. We can continue fighting, but I doubt that's the answer. It's more of a test of endurance rather than patience. So, I thought back to when we first landed in this place. The moment those things came out, we immediately attacked. We weren't patient. It sounds dumb, but the answer I came up with is to do nothing and wait until an opportunity arises."

"No, Uchronia," he said, shaking his large, bulbous head. "The solution you have derived is far from dumb. It is—at least based on all of the facts currently available—the same conclusion I have come up with."

"Well, that's reassuring. And you couldn't have just told me this?"

Niwla didn't even open his beak, for he knew that Uchronia would interrupt him not even a second later.

"I know, I know. You were trying to support me. I had to come up with the answer by myself. You know? I like this version of you, even if you can still be annoying."

"Understood," he said. "Shall we?"

"Yeah. Let's wait and see."

The alternate Uchronia, about to crash into yet another mini-cauldron, vanished in a flurry of magical particles. Niwla stopped dispensing the Homing Ice Needles, though he did leave a thin layer of Brainfreeze mist around him and Uchronia to combat the rising temperatures in the cauldron.

They stood next to each other, waiting, keeping an eye out for this perfect opportunity that the MOP had alluded to.

The mini-cauldrons marched forward in a staggering march, the tools within clanging against the metal rim. All around, the little flamelings of different colors hopped towards them in a burning, eager swarm.

They simply remained still.

Even when they had been completely surrounded from all sides, they stood still, watching the incoming aspects of Pill Refining.

Even as they closed in, mere inches away from their face, they remained still, waiting for this supposed opportunity.

Uchronia gulped.

Despite the cool mist surrounding her, a bead of sweat slid down her plant bulb. She didn't need to open her mouth for him to know what she was thinking. Doubt was slowly creeping in, about to overwhelm her.

She wanted to lash out, to blow away the aspects before they lay a flame, cauldron, or tool on her.

He wouldn't stop her. There was no need.

She could stop herself.

Rather than give in, she held strong, believing in the answer that they had separately derived.

Just before the mini-cauldron stomped them flat and a little flameling's heat licked dangerously close, they froze.

Niwla had not done anything.

They simply hovered mid-air for a moment before pacing backwards.

Uchronia let out a sigh of relief.

But this still wasn't the opportunity, not yet. Patience was still very much needed.

The little flamelings bounced backwards, forming a ring of fire around them. The mini-cauldrons shuffled into place, sitting atop the flames, letting them lick their sides.

Above, the pots of plants descended. They fanned out, each pot landing within a mini-cauldron. The little flamelings roared while the tools stirred. Rather than burn to a crisp or even shrivel up, the plants started to grow.

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Through some unknown process that he couldn't decipher, the leaves, branches, and flowers were shaped beyond their natural state. They were molded and curved, forming strokes that combined into letters. Those letters aligned themselves with each other, giving birth to this opportunity that the MOP had alluded to.

Rotating once, they found that the plants had formed the words, "Congratulations!"

"That's it?" Uchronia asked, dumbfounded.

Niwla held up a wing.

There was a click beneath them, and the cauldron opened up once more.

Niwla gripped Uchronia by the pot, descending slowly into the abyss with every flap of his wing. This time, there wasn't any hesitation from the Potted Sprout.

There was a light at the end of the shaft, growing brighter as they descended. Odd sounds and scents that he couldn't discern flowed up the shaft.

The closer they got, the clearer those sounds became. It was voices, multiple voices in the level of hundreds, all blended together into inconceivable noise. Mixed in with those voices were the sounds of unknown machinery. And those smells. He recognised them.

Niwla knew where they were headed.

The answer was so obvious, he felt like such an Alwin—a fool—for not realizing it sooner. No amount of blaming the lack of information could absolve him of such a blunder.

Descending to the bottom of the shaft, the pair found themselves in the kitchen of the school's cafeteria. Multiple bipedal cats wearing chef hats were cooking up a storm, preparing for the influx of students requiring sustenance.

"The cafeteria?" Uchronia exclaimed.

"Yes, the cafeteria," a lady said.

That voice came from none other than the MOP. Within the center of the chaos was the giant pink floating bubble, and standing next to her was a certain muffin-obsessed, yellow Fluffpaw.

"Gus?" Uchronia exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Uchronia. Hi, Alwin," he said, enthusiastically waving and smiling.

"Again, hi. But what are you doing here?"

"Oh, after I gave up looking for any more yumming sauce, I decided to look for the nice Pill lady. And I found her!"

"We can see that. But how did you find her before us?"

"I just followed the message she wrote when she was making Pills."

"What message?" Niwla asked. "I never saw any message."

"But you did!"

"Where?" Niwla squawked. "There was nothing remotely like a message during the MOP's demonstration."

A message that Gus of all people managed to notice and decipher? It shouldn't be possible. How could this be?

No offence to the muffin-obsessed monster, but he had stomach for brains. So how did he do it? Not unless…Wait. Don't tell him.

Cor! This was so stupid.

"I get it," Niwla sighed.

"Get what?" Uchronia asked. "If Alwin got it and even Gus solved it, why don't I understand? How did everything that happened point to the kitchen?"

The MOP turned to face Gus. "Little one, should I explain it to your dear friend? Or would you like to do the honors?"

"I wanna do it!"

"Go ahead, little one."

"It's like food," Gus said. "You don't just eat with your mouth, you eat with your eyes, ears, and nose too."

"What?" Uchronia said, even more confused than ever.

"Gus, may I translate?"

"Sure, Alwin!"

"Essentially, this message you picked up had multiple components that combined together give the full picture. As Gus said, it utilized most of your senses. The reason you weren't able to properly decipher it is because of this."

The Spirit Hand holding the vial of Healing Pills descended from the ceiling.

"The Healing Pills?" Uchronia said. "You're saying that if I had popped one in my mouth, I would've ended up in the cafeteria?"

"Most likely," Niwla said.

"Well, that's just dumb."

"No. It's genius!" Gus exclaimed.

"Taste, looks, smell, even the way it sounds when you bite into it. They're all important. Not even that. The ingredients used, the tools you used, and even the intensity of the flame, coupled with waiting for the perfect moment. They're all pivotal for making the best-tasting Pill possible. And you know what else shares that quality? Food! And the cafeteria is the best place to train for all of that. It's pure genius by the MOP!"

"I'm glad someone was able to understand the true meaning behind my little message," the MOP said. "Food and Pills share plenty of similarities. A good meal heals the soul. A good Pill heals the body."

"Exactly! The MOP is a genius!" Gus said.

Genius? Maybe. Eccentric? Definitely. What was with all the Ministers being weird? Was it a requirement?

"So what was that whole cauldron trial thing about?" Uchronia asked.

"What do you think, little one?" the MOP asked.

"To teach me that everything about Pill Refining is important. But was that really it?"

"Yup. Trial by fire, as they say. And I'm glad you understood the lesson. Better to learn late than never."

"You know what? Yes, I've learnt that everything about Pill Refining is important. Not just the ingredients. And since I found you, does that mean you'll take me on as an apprentice?"

"Probationary apprentice," the MOP said.

"This little fella—" the floating pink bubble looked at Gus "—is the first person to truly understand the meaning behind Pill Refining. He is my first full-fledged apprentice. And since you did learn things the hard way, it's only fair that you're a probationary apprentice."

"And how do I pass my probation?" Uchronia asked.

"Demonstrate that you truly embody the qualities of a Pill Refiner."

"And how do I do that?"

"By cooking!" the MOP said. "We're in the cafeteria for a reason. It's the best training ground for all Pill Refiners without the risk of Pills exploding in their face."

"So, I need to cook cafeteria food? That's how I get better at making Pills?"

"Yup!" the MOP said. "And if you have any questions, feel free to ask the other students under probation."

"What other students?"

"The cooks!" Gus exclaimed, pointing to the bipedal cats wearing chef hats tossing ingredients in a frying pan.

"Yup!" the MOP said. "See, this is why you're the first full-fledged apprentice."

"Yay!" Gus cheered. "I'll be the best cook that ever existed."

"And I know you will," the MOP said. "I don't think anyone else is showing up, so ta-ta, little ones."

The floating pink bubble floated out of the kitchen and bobbed down the hall without a care in the world.

Uchronia shook her head and looked at Alwin. "This has to be a joke, right?"

"It doesn't appear to be. However, the events leading up to this moment have taken a toll on my mental capacity. I'm afraid that an accurate analysis isn't available," Niwla said.

"Yeah," she sighed. "And thanks for being here to support me, Alwin."

"You are welcome."

"C'mon, Uchronia," Gus exclaimed, interrupting their conversation. He hopped up and down, his paws flapping with barely contained excitement. "Let's get cooking!"

"Later, Gus. I need to do something first."

"Okay! Good luck!" he said, zooming off deeper into the kitchen.

"Do you mind sticking around for one more thing?" she asked.

"The MOD, I presume?"

"Yes. Just in case he goes crazy when I visit him."

"Very well. Let us depart."

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