Hephaetaestus did not speak immediately.
The forge's dim glow cast long, flickering shadows across his weathered face, the heat from dying embers humming faintly in the background like a weary heartbeat.
Instead, he lifted his trembling hand and pointed forward, veins bulging under his scarred skin from the effort.
A faint pulse of fading divinity flickered from his fingertips, weak and sputtering like a candle in the wind.
The air distorted, rippling as if unseen fingers stirred the ether.
Light bent inward, warping the forge's orange haze into fractured prisms.
And a holographic screen materialized before them, its edges shimmering with ethereal static.
It hovered silently in the center of the forge, suspended amid the scent of molten metal and charred wood.
Alex narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing instinctively.
Lina's breath hitched, her hand instinctively gripping the edge of a nearby anvil.
Inside the screen—
A village appeared.
Or what used to be one.
