Two Days Later — Midnight of the Final Night
The two remaining days passed quietly.
Too quietly.
The workshop smelled of warm pearl dust and faint mana.
Every few hours, the reforged sword hummed—low and steady—like a heartbeat becoming stronger.
By the final night, the hum had grown deeper.
Sharper.
Almost aware.
Rhys had fallen asleep in the chair near the counter, cloak wrapped around him, arms folded.
Puddle was curled up on his lap like a glowing water droplet.
Aria was snoring on the roof.
Sophia sat meditating with her blade across her knees.
Caria was writing notes under a lantern.
Lyra stood guard in silence, eyes half-closed, sensing the flow of mana from the workshop.
Then—
Hum…
A pulse rolled through the workshop.
The lights flickered.
Puddle's eyes popped open. "Mmmh… shiny noise…"
Rhys opened one eye.
"…Why. Why in the middle of the night," he muttered tiredly as he stood up.
Another pulse.
Hum— Shhhnnng—
