Rex trudged back into the library like someone who had just realized gravity was a personal enemy. He didn't even sit in the chair normally—he slid into it, slumped forward, and let his face meet the table with a long, muffled groan.
Velkohr, who had been pretending to read but had really been staring at Rex ever since he entered, walked over carrying a glass of wine and a cup of orange juice. He pushed the juice toward Rex.
"Rough day, kid. Drink. You look like someone wrung out a towel and the towel was you."
Rex lifted his head slightly. "Why are you here? Didn't you say you didn't care?"
Velkohr sipped his wine casually. "Well, yeah. I thought you'd quit. But apparently you're more determined—and more stupid—than I estimated. So now I'm curious. Tell me what happened. Researcher to researcher."
Rex squinted. "Since when are you a researcher?"
Velkohr pointed around the room. "What do you think this is? Normal people don't have a full library, a forged-up training hall, an alchemy room, and a basement full of suspicious glowing rocks."
Rex snorted. "Okay, fair."
"Good. Now talk."
So Rex did. He explained how he got a little overconfident, tried to fight a fire elemental, almost died, and barely escaped by committing casual arson.
Velkohr blinked. "You… fought an elemental. Alone. And you're… just sad?"
Rex nodded, staring at the table. "Yeah."
Velkohr braced for trauma talk—shaking hands, existential dread, emotional cracking.
Instead Rex sighed and said, "I'm sad I couldn't kill it."
Velkohr stared. Very slowly. "Are you… afraid of dying? You know—like how you almost did? That whole 'about to be vaporized' moment?"
Rex tilted his head. "No? Should I be?"
Velkohr covered his face with both hands. That was not the answer he expected. It was actually the worst possible answer.
Trying to recover, he asked, "Why did you even lose?"
"It was immune to my magic."
"Then—make another spell."
The moment he said it, he regretted it. Because Rex froze, blinked twice, then exploded with movement—scrambling to the shelves, grabbing the rune book, and flipping pages like a man hunting for treasure.
He stopped at an earth rune.
"Sage," Rex whispered internally, "can you find a rune to work with this one?"
Sage sighed. Deeply.
"Rex… that's a big jump."
"I can handle it."
"Fine," Sage groaned. "But to truly combine runes effectively, you need a specialized focus."
"Isn't mine already specialized?"
"No. Yours is improv. A specialized focus has a fixed set of runes permanently infused. It requires a ritual."
Rex turned to Velkohr. "Do you have a ritual room?"
Velkohr blinked. "Yes… why?"
Sage hissed internally: Ask. Ask now.
"Because I need it."
Velkohr nodded, walked to a shelf, and pulled out a dusty tome. As he lifted it, a rolled blueprint slipped out and hit the floor.
Rex picked it up.
It was stamped:
TWILIGHT REPORT
Prototype Weapon
No Recorded Use
He looked at Velkohr. Velkohr looked back with the world's worst poker face.
Rex squinted.
Velkohr smiled nervously.
Rex raised an eyebrow.
Velkohr looked away.
Suspicious.
But Rex had bigger problems—he had a ritual to set up.
The Ritual Chamber
The room was ancient—runes on stone, dust thick enough to be a pillow, and air that tasted like old magic and regret.
Following Sage's directions, Rex built something so complex it practically screamed "Do not attempt this."
He placed:
One Runic Matrix in the center
Arcane Stone Bricks at four corners angled inward
Eight Arcane Pedestals in perfect symmetry
Pure crystal slabs carved with:
a control rune
an earth rune
several control runes
and the mysterious spike runes
Rex paused mid-carving.
"What's a spike rune?"
Sage's tone had that evil little smile.
"You'll see."
Rex did not find that comforting.
After hours of work, everything was ready. The matrix floated above the ground, humming with power.
"Now what?" Rex asked.
"Equip the fire focus," Sage said, "and hit the matrix."
Rex stared at the glowing ritual array. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly."
Rex sighed, slid on the gauntlet halfway for safety, inserted the fire focus, inhaled…
"Ignis!"
Flames erupted, the gauntlet blazing.
He slapped the matrix.
Magic shot out in a burst of purple light. The runic matrix spun faster and faster, lightning-like arcs of violet energy lashing out violently.
Rex ducked, rolled, dodged with excitement instead of fear—because Rex is not normal.
Noir chuckled darkly from inside his mind.
"Look at that… those purple sparks… so unstable… so destructive… I love it."
The pedestals shook. The slabs evaporated into glowing particles and surged into the central focus.
The earth rune was the last to be absorbed.
And then—
BOOM.
Silence.
Smoke.
Rex slowly stood up, coughing, waving the air.
And on the central pedestal…
Was a brand new focus.
Not white.
Not mixed.
Not cracked.
A pure green crystal glowing with dense magical weight.
Rex stared.
Then grinned.