The morning after the battle dawned hazy and blue, the sea still steaming from last night's lightning. The Stormrider creaked softly as sailors scrubbed scorch marks off the deck and muttered about "mad inventors" and "ships that glow like angry gods."
JP sat on a coil of rope near the bow, staring at his smoking handgun. The weapon gave a faint crackle, the barrel still warm. "Okay," he muttered, "maybe… eighty percent power next time. Ninety tops."
Lyra strolled up behind him, arms folded, hair wind-tossed but her movements crisp as always. "You nearly turned the ship into a floating lantern."
"Correction," JP said with mock dignity, "a defensively electrified lantern."
She gave him a long, unimpressed look. "You really think in wattage, don't you?"
JP grinned, then winced as his arm cramped. The Overcharge Shot had drained him more than he wanted to admit. The new skill thrummed under his skin, the way static built before a storm. He flexed his fingers; faint sparks danced between them.
"Lyra," he said quietly, "do you ever feel like… your body's learning faster than you are?"
She glanced at him, curious. "You mean leveling?"
"Yeah. Like muscle memory's getting replaced by… code."
Lyra tilted her head. "I wouldn't know. I train. You tinker."
He chuckled softly. "Fair."
Breakfast and Bruises
By the time breakfast rolled around, the sailors had laid out salted fish, crusty bread, and barrels of lukewarm ale. JP picked at his food, eyes drifting back to the ocean.
Lyra sat beside him, dagger in hand, carving her bread with military precision. "You should rest," she said. "Your energy's unstable."
"Unstable?" JP scoffed. "I'm fine! I could totally—"
BZZZT! His fork sparked, zapping his hand.
Lyra's lips twitched. "Fine?"
"…Okay. Maybe a little overcharged."
A nearby sailor snorted into his ale. "He's the first man I've seen fight off assassins and then lose to breakfast!"
JP sighed dramatically. "Mock me all you want. I'm still the only one here who can cook fish with my hands."
Private Tinkering
Later, when the crew napped under the noonday sun, JP slipped away to the cargo hold. He laid out his tools and opened his waist bag, muttering softly.
"Let's see… voltage core stability at sixty percent, recoil control poor…" His eyes flicked to the faint blue screen still hovering before him.
[Status – JP]Level: 20HP: 310 / 310MP: 240 / 240Strength: 42Endurance: 48Dexterity: 27Intelligence: 59Luck: 17Skills:
Appraisal (Advanced)
Alchemy (Proficient)
Overcharge Shot (New)
Circuit Efficiency (Passive)
Pulse Shot, Crafting, and Mana Reinforcement
He exhaled slowly. "Overcharge drains me fast. But if I can stabilize the feedback, maybe I can… link it through the bracer."
JP reached into his bag, pulling out a spare crystal, and began wiring it delicately into the handgun's side housing. Sparks popped softly, but this time—no burns. The new configuration hummed low and steady. He grinned.
"Controlled voltage… now that's progress."
Lyra's Quiet Warning
Footsteps. Lyra appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame. "You're tinkering again."
"Can't sleep when there's potential improvements to make."
She studied him for a long moment. "You've changed. Since that first quest."
JP looked up, blinking. "What, taller?"
"Stronger," she said simply. "Smarter. But also… more reckless."
He smirked. "You say that like it's new."
Lyra walked closer, her tone softening. "Be careful, JP. Power attracts enemies. You've already made more than enough."
He smiled faintly, holstering the newly tuned gun. "Yeah. But at least now… I can shoot back."
She sighed, but a ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Just don't shoot me."
"No promises."
As the Stormrider drifted toward its next port, the waves gleamed like liquid silver under the sun. For the first time in days, the sea was peaceful. But beneath the calm, both knew it wouldn't last.
Because where sparks flew… storms always followed.