"...Gosh, that was tiresome to finish!"
Elijah let out a long sigh, stretching his arms high above his head until his joints popped. His whole body sagged afterward, like his bones had turned to jelly.
I couldn't blame him. We'd been sitting here for nearly six hours, doing nothing but running numbers and cross-checking divine output ratios.
The room smelled faintly of ink, old paper, and exhaustion.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, eyes half-lidded as I glanced at the final result of our work.
Perfect calculations. Stable containment levels. Zero percent failure rate.
Except for one small detail...
"…It's 0.1 units below the maximum safety standard," I muttered.
Elijah groaned again, rubbing his face.
"Yeah, which means it's acceptable."
I sighed through my nose, looking at the glowing lines of divine measurements still shimmering faintly across the scrolls.
"Unbelievable. If they had gone just a little higher, the relic would have broken containment within seconds."
