The protective formations surrounding the forging table trembled violently. The Unstable Star Core now burned with a fierce red glow, cracks across its surface spewing lines of light like molten magma.
"Shut down the formations! Seal the core! Stop the process!" one overseer shouted.
The Head of the Workshop ground his teeth, ready to retreat for the sake of safety.
Varon raised a hand, as if about to offer "advice" though the mocking curve of his smile betrayed his true intent.
"If this is as far as your techniques can go," he said loudly enough for the entire plaza to hear, "…then perhaps the reputation of the Eternal Forge has been greatly exaggerated."
Several young blacksmiths lowered their heads, their faces burning, caught between anger and shame.
Just as the tension reached its peak…
Heavy footsteps echoed from the direction of the main workshop gate.
DUM.
DUM.
DUM.
