Lira burst out of the house, the door flying open—
—and immediately heard "Ow—!"
Rex had been leaning on the door like a bored cat, and the moment she opened it, he toppled forward and landed across her legs, laughing like this was completely normal behavior.
Lira blinked.
Rex grinned up at her from the ground.
Then she looked past him.
And froze.
The tree outside was exploded—like someone had stuffed it full of fireworks and bad decisions. The dirt was scorched, smoke still curling upward. Next to Rex's boot sat the remains of a once-functional gauntlet: twisted metal, shattered runes, burnt scraps of paper, and what used to be a perfectly innocent spellbook.
"…what happened here?" Lira asked calmly, which was impressive given the scene looked like a magical war crime.
Rex hopped up, dusting himself off. He scooped up the ruined gauntlet bits, the charred papers, the melted scribing tools—basically an entire craft table's funeral—and said, with absolute confidence:
"I did a test."
Then he walked right past her into the house.
Lira stared at the carnage, then at Rex's retreating back.
"…what??"
Inside — Rex's Workshop of Questionable Choices
We cut to Rex surrounded by tools, metal shards, crystal dust, and the quiet background laughter of Noir in his head.
He rebuilt the gauntlet.
Then rebuilt it again.
Then again.
Now he had three new prototypes:
A pure white crystal gauntlet — elegant, beautiful, probably expensive-looking enough to make Lira nervous.
A green-blue emerald and metal hybrid gauntlet — shiny, unstable, screams "I will explode at the worst possible moment."
A dark purple-black gauntlet with exposed hardened leather — the "scrap" one, stitched together from every leftover part he had.
Designs? Same.
Incarvings? Same.
Focus slot? Same.
Rex's questionable confidence? Also the same.
He crafted three new fire focuses, one for each gauntlet, and marched outside determined—but this time, not stupid.
Testing, Otherwise Known As: Watching Rex Hurt Himself Carefully
Test 1 — Crystal Gauntlet
He slid it on halfway, because he liked his fingers attached.
"Ignis."
Nothing.
The gauntlet politely refused to work.
Too much crystal—everything counted as a focus. Cancelled itself out.
Rex groaned.
Test 2 — Emerald/Metal Gauntlet
Focus in.
Deep breath.
"Ignis."
The gauntlet exploded so fast Rex nearly had to count his fingers to make sure they were still there.
Noir cackled in his head.
Sage sighed in disappointment.
"This is fine," Rex lied to himself.
Test 3 — The Scrap Prototype
Rex stared at it.
The gauntlet stared back.
"This is the one that'll kill me," he muttered.
He put it on, bracing for pain, recoil, fire, or possibly spontaneous combustion. He took a slow breath, closed his eyes…
Slotted the focus.
And said, with magical weight:
"IGNIS."
He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the explosion.
…
Nothing.
Rex peeked.
And saw the gauntlet—
on fire.
Not exploding.
Just burning perfectly, beautifully, magically.
He stared at it in awe, then walked straight to a nearby tree and gave it a gentle shove.
FWOOOMPH.
The tree caught fire instantly.
Rex froze.
Then slowly whispered:
"…yessssss."
He was so happy.
Lira's POV
From the doorway, Lira watched Rex celebrate like he had just discovered a new element.
She felt two things at once:
Pride. Rex finally succeeded and looked genuinely thrilled.
Fear. He finally succeeded and looked genuinely thrilled.
"What is he going to do with that…?"