220. The Electric Coils

Lampi sat on the stone bench, one leg crossed over the other, her hoof boots flicking in giddiness.

A soft squeak accompanied her arc quill as it stroked across a levitated scroll, but her gaze drifted to the so-called scholars practising their arcane arts.

"What are you drawing?" a girl's voice rang out near her.

Lampi jumped, her head snapping toward the source to find the floating cube seemingly staring back at her.

"Wh~what? Are you lost?" Lampi gasped. "Where's your master?"

"Master?" Cubie returned, equally dumbfounded.

"The constructor?" Lampi blinked.

"I'm not a construct," Cubie grumbled, her tone small. "My name's Cubie. I'm Zetius's essence, you know…"

"Oh… I'm Lampi!" Lampi hunched forward, visibly relaxing, then realisation hit her like a physical blow. "What did you just say?! There's no such thing!"

"There is such a thing," Cubie retorted. She drifted closer to the floating scroll to peek at the illustration: a picture of three dazzling, topless males, their camaraderie palpable as they wrapped their arms around each other. "Whoa! I didn't know you were an artist!"

"D~don't look!" Lampi blurted, her face flushing red as she snatched the scroll from the air. With a swift flick of her finger, the art chimed and disappeared.

"A shy artist, I see," Cubie quipped, bouncing up and down. "Perhaps you are studying male anatomy."

Playing along, Lampi wobbled her head in agreement.

"You are right to pick Zetius as one of your subjects. However, you are just imagining things," Cubie said matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?"

"I have seen his physique. You seem to have misproportioned his waist… his toned abdominal muscles have two extra small bulges near his pelvis… and his triceps are a bit bulkier."

Lampi wiped a trickle of drool from her lips. "That sounds… lustrous. Hehehe."

"I can ask him to strip for you if you'd like!" Cubie's voice dripped with eagerness. "For the sake of art!"

"N~no need!" Lampi stuttered, forming a cross with her arms. She buried her face in her palms as a wild thought threatened to take root. I wonder… what's underneath…

"Teehee. You are so funny," Cubie remarked, her pale glow brightening.

"Wait… you seem to know your stuff." Lampi let out a dry chuckle as she leaned close. "Are you also an artist?"

"I'm something of an artist, if I do say so myself!" Cubie cast a spell, projecting a mechanical hand and waving it at the awe-struck Lampi.

"Wow. That's so cool!"

Near the edge of the platform, Zetius followed at Willhelm's heels. The elven mage's gaze was glued to a holographic arc comm, his lecture echoing in the wind.

"I have suspected that your discovery of Astrapyion was far from accidental. Even with the entropies introduced in the Dreamless Realm."

Zetius's boot scuffed the stone floor as he contemplated deeply. "So… you think it's my inherited essence? Beyond the twelve Primordial Essences?"

"Could be. Could not be." Willhelm closed his eyes. "But that's not what we are trying to solve today."

Zetius trailed the elven mage as he walked over to the edge, where a rectangular box the size of a minicar was placed on a lone concrete slab, a brown blanket covering its top. He arched a brow at its size.

"Tada!" Willhelm gestured grandly, whipping the blanket away to reveal a complex machine skid. An arcanite engine was installed at one side, connected to other equipment via intricate conduits.

"What is this machine for?" Zetius frowned at its design. Despite his experience at Hein's shop, he had never seen one like this before.

"It's just your average electricity generator, powered by this Arcanite engine," Willhelm said, slapping his palm on the metal surface. "Forty gigawatts. Enough to power a small village."

"A small village, you say? How do you suddenly know so much about electricity?" Zetius eyed him sceptically.

"I merely read the manual. We scholarly arcanists must be diligent with our research, after all," Willhelm said, dismissing the holographic screen with a wave. "But let's get back to the matter at hand. Did you know that much of my early career involved sitting in front of a fire? Despite perfecting the arcane equation, I simply could not cast Empyrion."

"Hmm?" Zetius tuned his ear, thinking he might have misheard.

"Yes, that's right. I watched the flickering flames over and over. That's where my fire manipulation stems from studying the fire itself." Willhelm nodded to himself, relishing the long, treacherous task he had endured. "Until I could eventually bend it to my will. That's where the true magic happened."

A fiery butterfly slowly flapped its wings on the tip of Willhelm's finger. He watched it with the same awe as if it were his first time.

"I see… You learnt from real fire," Zetius analysed, internally amazed. It had never occurred to him to try such a learning technique.

"Not just observe. But truly let it become a part of me." Willhelm's hands were suddenly engulfed in flame before he swatted it away, snuffing it out. "That was a bit over two hundred years ago… Haha."

"Where are you going with this?" Zetius frowned, confusion painting his face.

Willhelm strutted to one end of the machine and pulled a lever. A compartment squeaked and whirred, and an enormous metal coil popped out at the centre, atop a long pole.

"An electric coil?" Zetius remembered seeing such an infamous invention in historical records.

"Correct. First, let's learn how your body adapts to an external source, shall we?" Willhelm smiled mischievously, gesturing for Zetius to step into position. He, meanwhile, stood back at the remote control panel, a good distance away.

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"Here?" Zetius moved in, hesitant about what was to come.

"And voila!" Willhelm slammed a big red switch. The Arcanite engine hummed to life, ramping up into a roar. The machine skid vibrated, and lightning discharged from the metal coil, creating a dome of crackling blue energy.

The dome was no solid wall, but a storm of chaotic, searing filaments. Hissing tendrils of azure lightning whipped through the air, branching and snapping as they wove a violent, flickering cage around Zetius.

The very air grew thick, charged with the sharp, clean scent of ozone as the untamed power crackled with a life all its own.

"Aha! So this is real electricity?" Zetius exclaimed in awe.

The mesmerising dance of lightning drew him into a trance. He slowly extended a finger toward a streak of lightning, inviting it to his skin.

The arc bridged to his fingertip.

His body stiffened, his muscles clenched, and he collapsed flat on the ground with a loud thud.

"Ooh!" Willhelm and Lampi cringed at the sight.

Cutting the power, Willhelm rushed over, looking at him like a mad scientist. "Did that work?"

"A bit… I'm not sure… It just stunned me," Zetius muttered, struggling to move his limbs. But it wasn't as painful as using Astrapyion. This could work.

If I want to win against my master, I must endure. Zetius locked eyes with Willhelm. "Again!" he demanded firmly.

Willhelm gave him a nod of respect before running back with the controller. "Ready, set!"

The solid lightning reflected in his pupils; Zetius was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Fear was absent, replaced by a singular desire to claim this power as his own.

His fingers grasped a violent tendril. The shock ran up his arm. Zetius grunted, persisting through the jolt.

"Holy Gaia! You're doing it!" Willhelm cheered, thumping his fists in the air.

"AHHH!" Zetius roared, bending the lightning like a lash—

His knee buckled.

The power ceased. Willhelm poked his head into his line of sight. "You… you good?" he asked, a pang of uncertainty in his voice.

Smoke smouldered around Zetius. His white clothes were tattered and fried, his hair messy and spiked.

"I, um, I should have told you to remove your new clothes first… My deepest apology." Willhelm dipped his head and a dry chuckle escaped his lips.

Slow and deliberate, Zetius put one foot in front of the other, pushing his frame upright as if he carried the burden of a broken world. He held his head high, his eyes closed in deep contemplation.

Who knew what went on inside his head? Was it strength? Was it duty? Or was it a silent, unshakeable conviction?

"Is he going to be okay?!" Lampi ran her nail over her bottom lip.

"He will be," Cubie replied in reverence.

"Again, Lunarius!" Zetius bellowed, his shoulders squared, his posture poised.

Again and again, Zetius continued his training with the electric coils, trying to break free of the cage. The more it shocked him, the more his mind and body began to adapt.

It was a slow, agonising process, but pain was only a reminder that he was alive. For a man like Zetius, that was a familiar feeling.

Hundreds of trials and failures. The electric whirring was like clockwork, a measure of his will against fate. He kept pushing and pushing, even if he only gained a millimetre each time.

By evening, a crowd had gathered to watch Zetius's training.

Astrid hugged herself, unable to believe her eyes. "Jeez… This is brutal."

"Zetius…" Aurelia murmured, her brow creased with worry.

"If it's anyone who can do it, it's him," Friederich said, rubbing his chin.

Eventually, the moment of truth arrived, holding everyone's breath in their chests.

His hands plunged into the crackling wall of energy. The lightning hissed, spitting and clawing at his flesh, but he didn't falter.

With a guttural cry, he forced his arms through the barrier, the azure arcs parting reluctantly before him. He emerged from the cage not in a single motion, but piece by agonising piece. A primal roar, born of pain and sheer will, tore from his raw throat.

His clothes had been burnt away from his torso, revealing skin scorched a raw, angry red, with faint trails of smoke rising from it.

One foot struggled forward.

Then another.

"Holy Mother Gaia! This is it!" Willhelm shouted with incredulity, his fists clenching in anticipation.

A choked bleat of disbelief escaped her throat. "He's… he's really doing it," she whispered, twisting the fabric of her dress.

Then, with one final step, Zetius's eyes rolled back and his body collapsed—

Willhelm's hands caught him just in time, supporting his limp frame.

"That's it, Zetius. You did well," Willhelm whispered.

Willhelm's gaze lingered on the silver hair concealing Zetius's face. He knew the training was far from over, but to achieve such a breakthrough so quickly proved it: Zetius was indeed extraordinary, a natural.

Willhelm laid him gently on the ground, letting Lampi perform her healing spell.

A few moments later, his red eyes fluttered open. Lampi moved away, revealing his friends looming over him with worried faces.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Hades' challenger," Astrid remarked, her smile widening.

"Zetius." Friederich gave him a slow, intent nod.

"A~are you okay?" Aurelia's voice trembled, her eyes damp.

"I am," Zetius rasped, his voice weak yet firm.

Slowly, he rose to stand, his friends reaching out their hands to support him. He spun to look at the machine. He had just realised he had broken free of it for the first time.

"My prime disciple! I'm so proud of you!" Willhelm's smug face slid through, cracking into a full-toothed smile.

"Gaia… your idea of training is just pure torture," Astrid jabbed, twirling a side braid.

In response, Willhelm scratched the back of his head. "Well, I didn't expect him to get out of the cage. It was only meant for observation at first."

Zetius whipped his head around, a choke stuck in his throat. "What did you just say—"

Slinging a long arm over Zetius's shoulder, Willhelm interjected, "Nothing! Oh, look! Who else is famished? How about we all go get some succulent meals from the Central Continental?"

"Solis Aeternum's delicacy is on today," Astrid shrugged.

"Ah! I sure crave that!" Willhelm slapped Zetius's shoulder hard, sending a tremor down his legs. "And I extend my invitation to you, Lampi!"

Reluctantly, the goat Wildren nodded. "Please allow me to join you for this wonderful dinner."

"The music is a banger! I know the DJ. Trust!" Cubie added and nudged her shoulder. She returned a satisfied hum and a sweet smile.

The air filled with light laughter and chatter as the evening sun loomed in the backdrop, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

***

In a vast library, whose towering shelves held tomes from across the seven continents, a quiet scratching reverberated from the second floor.

Cartier Di Joy, personal scribe and ward to the Astral Empress, scribbled furiously in her notes, lost in a world of ink and parchment. Stacks of ancient books formed tall, teetering walls on either side of her desk.

A translucent curtain drifted on the breeze, carrying the earthy scent — the promise of rain. In the distance, a storm rumbled, and dark clouds gathered to obscure the fractured moons.

"It's about to rain," a soft voice whispered beside her.

Cartier wasn't alone. Terissa Mercier, her head veiled like a priestess, was flipping through a heavy tome, cross-referencing material. Though the little Wildren was glued to her writing, the comfortable silence between them spoke of a deep companionship.

"I'm going to close the windows," Triss said.

Cartier gave a slight wobble of her head in acknowledgement, never looking up from her page.

Triss trailed her fingers along the oak railings as she strolled down the long corridor. She stopped before the large, arched windows, their tempered glass reminiscent of those in a holy church, and swung one shut with a soft click.

She sighed, a quiet sound in the large hall.

Then, she froze. A tall figure stood in the corner of her vision, a silhouette that seemed to have materialised from the shadows themselves.

A scream caught in her throat, silenced before it could form.

The mysterious figure lingered in the shade, never emerging fully from the darkness.

Her voice was a low rumble, filled with an ancient authority. "Heed my calling, Essenceborn."

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