Mirage is dashing to the north of the room as fast as possible, though it is awkward to pick her way through the discarded books and desks and scrolls.
As she nears the door, she sees that the writing that covers the walls grows to a crescendo the closer she gets to the end of the room. And at the far northern wall, one phrase has been left untouched by writing around it, in bold letters, in English.
It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place