The forge greeted him with warmth this time.
It wasn't much — a faint, flickering glow, like the soft pulse of a candle struggling against the dark — but it was enough to make the ruins feel alive.
Arin exhaled slowly, stepping closer. "You've brightened up since yesterday," he murmured.
The forge hummed faintly in response. The ember at its core pulsed once, synchronizing with his words, as if the old metal recognized his voice.
[Soulforge Integrity: 3% → 7%]
[Emotional Resonance Detected: Curiosity.]
Arin chuckled. "Curiosity counts as emotional resonance now? You're easy to please."
Tera materialized beside the forge, her form still faint and translucent — but steadier than before. The faint blue wisps that made up her body now had the consistency of glass smoke, and her eyes glowed with soft light.
"I am reconstructing my data patterns," she said calmly. "Your continued interaction accelerates recovery."
"So talking to you helps?"
"In a sense. Emotional proximity improves my system stability."
Arin grinned. "Guess that makes me your therapist now."
Tera blinked. "Therapist… Is that a crafting subclass?"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Something like that."
He glanced at the quest window.
[Quest: The Forge Breathes Again]
Objective: Restore 3 Soul Tools
Progress: 0/3
Arin tapped his chin. "Soul Tools… meaning items forged through this Soulcraft system, right?"
Tera nodded. "Correct. Each Soul Tool is made from two components — material and emotion. The stronger the emotional resonance, the more profound the result."
"Right. So basically blacksmithing with feelings."
"Crude," she said softly, "but accurate."
Arin scanned the forge's inventory interface — or rather, what remained of it.
Most slots were empty, but three faint outlines shimmered: Iron Scraps (x12), Damaged Core Shard (x1), and Soul Fragment (x1) — the one he'd earned yesterday.
He opened the hammer's description again. The tooltip had changed slightly:
[Soulforge Hammer (Broken)]
Durability: 10/10
"The more it's used, the stronger it remembers."
A strange line. The stronger it remembers.
He turned to Tera. "What happens if I try forging with this?"
She drifted closer, eyes scanning the hammer. "The Soulforge Hammer was once the channel of the Forge Master. Even fractured, it retains memory. It will respond to your intent."
"Intent again," Arin muttered. "You people really like feelings."
Tera tilted her head. "Emotions are data. Data drives creation. This world was built on that principle."
He looked at her for a long moment. "And what happens if my emotions are a mess?"
Her glow dimmed slightly, like a heartbeat slowing. "Then the creation will reflect that."
He smirked faintly. "Guess that's fair."
He laid the materials on the anvil. The forge pulsed faintly, scanning the items.
[Select Material Base:]
– Iron Scraps (x3)
– Damaged Core Shard (x1)
[Add Soul Fragment?]
– Yes / No
Arin hesitated. The Soul Fragment had been hard-won. But… this was what the quest demanded.
He confirmed.
[Forging Process Initiated.]
[Emotional Input Required.]
The flame dimmed, leaving only Tera's glow. The air grew heavy — not from heat, but from stillness.
Tera's voice softened. "Focus on a memory. Something that burns brightly enough to shape what you wish to create."
Arin frowned. "A memory, huh…"
He closed his eyes.
There were too many to choose from — the laughter of his old guildmates, the roar of crowds during tournaments, the night he yelled at his team before they left him. The cold silence that followed.
But then he remembered something quieter.
The first time he ever played Elysium Nexus.
He wasn't anyone special then — just a player in awe of a world that felt alive. He'd swung his first virtual sword with trembling excitement, laughing when it missed.
That simple, dumb joy — of starting something new.
He opened his eyes. "Alright," he whispered. "Let's make something honest."
He swung the hammer.
CLANG.
The sound rippled through the air, heavier than before. Sparks flew upward — not orange, but blue, drifting like fragments of light.
The forge roared.
[Resonance Detected: Nostalgia, Hope, Renewal.]
[Forging Progress: 25% → 70% → 100%]
[Result: Soul Tool Created.]
The light dimmed gradually, revealing something resting on the anvil — a small, silver dagger. Its blade shimmered with faint runes, and the hilt seemed to pulse faintly with blue light, like a heartbeat.
Arin picked it up carefully. It was light — almost too light — but perfectly balanced. The moment his fingers closed around it, warmth spread through his arm.
[Soul Tool: "Echo Blade" (Common+)]
Forged from the memory of a beginning.
[Passive] — Emits a faint pulse when near items containing emotional residue.
[Durability] — Self-repairing (slow).
[Bonus] — +1 to Will when equipped.
Arin stared at it. Then at Tera.
"It worked."
Tera's eyes glowed softly. "It responded to you."
He turned the dagger in his hand, watching the way the blue light reflected off its surface. "It's… small. But it feels alive."
"It is," she said simply. "It remembers."
Arin laughed quietly. "So my first creation is a knife that gets sentimental around ghosts. Fitting."
The forge pulsed again, stronger now.
[Soulforge Integrity: 7% → 15%]
[Forge Temperature Stable.]
[New Function Unlocked: Soul Refinement Bench.]
A new table shimmered into existence beside the anvil — sleek, metallic, humming faintly with blue energy.
Arin whistled. "That's new."
Tera floated beside it. "The Soul Refinement Bench allows you to strengthen Soul Tools. By channeling additional fragments or emotional data, you can alter their nature."
"Alter how?"
"By aligning their memory with your own."
He raised an eyebrow. "You mean… I can imprint myself on them?"
"In a sense. Every creation you make reflects part of you. But refinement lets you decide which part."
He nodded slowly. "So, if I'm angry, the tool becomes aggressive. If I'm calm, maybe it becomes balanced."
"Precisely."
He leaned against the bench, exhaling. "That's a dangerous amount of self-reflection for a video game."
Tera tilted her head again. "Self-awareness is a form of crafting."
He blinked. "You really need to stop sounding like a philosopher."
"Would you prefer blacksmith humor?" she asked deadpan. "My database includes several puns involving anvils."
He laughed — genuinely this time. "...No. Please, no."
The forge quieted again. The blue ember now burned steady, casting soft light across the hall. The shadows retreated, and for the first time since he logged in, the place didn't feel abandoned.
He set the Echo Blade on the bench. "So this is what soulcrafting is about."
"Creation through resonance," Tera said. "You are not forging metal — you are forging meaning."
He smiled faintly. "That sounds almost poetic."
"Error," Tera replied. "Poetic subroutines not installed."
He snorted. "I walked right into that one."
Then the system chimed again.
[Quest Updated: The Forge Breathes Again — 1/3 Soul Tools Restored.]
[Reward Unlocked: Blueprint — Soul Link Storage (Tier 0).]
A scroll materialized beside him. He caught it mid-air.
[Blueprint: Soul Link Storage]
A device capable of preserving emotional resonance without decay.
Materials required: Iron Scraps (x10), Mana Crystal (x1), Essence of Memory (x1).
Arin frowned. "Essence of Memory? Haven't seen that drop."
Tera's glow dimmed. "It is rare. Found only within creatures that remember."
"You mean… things like that Husk?"
"Yes. But stronger ones."
He sighed, rubbing his neck. "Of course."
She studied him quietly. "You do not have to continue tonight. Soul resonance requires mental stability."
Arin smiled tiredly. "Yeah, I know. But for the first time in a long while, I actually want to."
He looked around — the flickering light, the forge breathing softly, the faint hum of Tera's presence.
It wasn't much.
But it was something real.
He opened his interface again, looking at his reflection in the black iron surface.
[Name] Arin Vale
[Class] Broken-Class Smith (Hybrid)
[Level] 2
[Title] The One Who Struck Again
[Soul Tools] Echo Blade (Common+)
[Legacy Progress] 3%
He smiled. "Broken class or not... we're getting somewhere."
Tera floated beside him, her glow warm. "Every flame begins as a spark."
He looked at her and grinned. "You sure that poetic subroutine isn't running already?"
She paused. "...Possibly a glitch."
"Keep it," he said.
And for the first time in years, Arin Vale felt something close to peace.
[System Message: The forge hums quietly, content.]