Kalem remained seated, his gaze fixed on the schematic before him. The parchment was filled with complex runic arrangements, their purpose known only to him. The steel whip—his latest creation—coiled and uncoiled around his arm, its segments shifting with eerie precision. The dark ichor within its structure pulsed faintly, waiting for his command.
Across from him, Briar watched with open curiosity.
"So, how the hell are you doing that?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Kalem didn't answer immediately. He was too engrossed in the calculations on the parchment.
Finally, without looking up, he muttered, "It's runes. The whip is stretchable at key points—a proper arrangement of runes was all I needed."
Briar's ears twitched. "Runes, huh? And here I thought you had just mastered it outright."
Garron, who had been watching in silence, exhaled in relief.
"I was actually worried for a second," Garron admitted, rubbing his temple.
Briar glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
Garron sighed. "I assumed Kalem had mastery of every weapon he wields. Turns out, a lot of it is runic augmentation."
Kalem shrugged. "Yeah." He didn't seem particularly bothered by the revelation.
Briar smirked. "Makes sense. I was about to feel really bad about my own training."
Before the conversation could continue, the sound of boots on stone echoed outside the smithy.
A moment later, a soldier stepped inside, clad in the darkened plate of the Gehenna Legions. His armor was scratched and stained from battle, the dented plates carrying the story of recent conflict. Despite the wear, he moved with the disciplined posture of a career soldier—someone who had survived countless battles and expected to survive many more.
His sharp gaze swept across the room before settling on Kalem.
"You're Kalem, right?"
Kalem looked up. His eyes, sharp and calculating, met the soldier's without hesitation.
"Yeah," Kalem said simply.
The soldier nodded. "You're being summoned."
Briar raised an eyebrow. "Summoned? By who?"
The soldier shifted his stance. "One of the Legion Captains. Orders came down this morning."
Kalem set down his parchment. "Why?"
The soldier hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering, "They want to talk about your… weapon development."
Briar's tail flicked. "I don't like the sound of that."
Kalem, however, just sighed. He reached for his whip, looping it securely to his belt before standing.
"Alright," he said. "Let's go."
The fortress-like command post of the Gehenna Legions was austere and functional—its stone walls built for war, not comfort.
Kalem followed the soldier through a series of corridors, eventually reaching a reinforced chamber at the end of the hall.
The soldier knocked once.
A voice—calm, firm, and authoritative—responded.
"Enter."
Kalem stepped inside.
Behind a heavy desk sat Captain Ardan, a veteran commander with a reputation for efficiency and brutal pragmatism. His scarred face and cold, calculating eyes spoke of decades spent fighting against the horrors of the abyss.
Ardan studied Kalem for a long moment before motioning toward the chair opposite him.
"Sit."
Kalem did.
The silence stretched.
Then, Ardan finally spoke.
"I've read the reports."
Kalem tilted his head. "Reports?"
Ardan folded his hands. "About the Bone Devil encounter. About your work with abyssal ichor. And about your weapon designs."
Kalem didn't react. He simply waited.
Ardan continued.
"You're not a Forge-Keeper," he said, voice level. "You're not a Legion engineer. And yet, your weapons are turning up in the hands of rank-and-file soldiers."
He leaned forward slightly. "That's unusual."
Kalem met his gaze. "Not really. My weapons aren't anything special by Gehenna's standards—they're just not usually seen outside the Legions and Battle Orders."
Ardan's lips twitched in something resembling amusement.
"Fair enough," he said. "But that still brings us to the problem—why are you doing this?"
Kalem exhaled. "Because it's useful."
Ardan studied him for a moment. Then he leaned back.
"That's what makes you interesting," he murmured.
Kalem frowned. "How so?"
Ardan tapped a sealed document on his desk.
"You're not ambitious," the captain said. "You're not seeking power or rank. You just keep working, improving, making weapons that kill more efficiently."
He tilted his head. "People like that? They get noticed."
Kalem didn't reply.
After a long silence, Ardan spoke again.
"You're being assigned to a new deployment."
Kalem arched an eyebrow. "Already?"
Ardan nodded. "Your recent… contributions have drawn attention."
He slid a parchment across the table.
"Pack your things," he said. "You leave at dawn."
Kalem took the parchment, unfolding it carefully.
As his eyes scanned the orders, his lips slowly curved into a small, amused smirk.
"Interesting."
When Kalem returned to the smithy, Briar and Garron were waiting.
The moment he stepped inside, Briar crossed her arms.
"Well?" she asked. "What did they want?"
Kalem tossed the sealed orders onto the workbench.
"New deployment," he said.
Garron frowned. "Already? You just got back."
Kalem shrugged. "Seems like they want me to… field test some things."
Briar snorted. "They probably just want to make sure you don't go off and make something they can't regulate."
Kalem smirked. "Probably."
Garron sighed. "So where are they sending you?"
Kalem picked up the orders and unsealed them with his thumb. He unfolded the parchment and read the assignment details.
Then, after a long pause, he chuckled.
Briar narrowed her eyes. "What's so funny?"
Kalem set the parchment down.
"They're sending me closer to the rift."
Silence.
Briar's ears flattened slightly. "You mean… closer to the abyss?"
Kalem nodded.
Garron groaned. "Of course they are."
Briar sighed. "And here I thought we'd have at least a few weeks of peace."
Kalem rolled his shoulders, his smirk unwavering.
"Guess not."
As the forge's embers flickered behind him, he picked up his newly forged whip, letting the serrated metal coils shift in his hands.
A new battlefield awaited.
And Kalem?
He was more than ready.