The first rays of the morning sun barely pierced through the gray mist over Dornheim. Noah walked slowly from the direction of the mines, wearily stretching his stiff neck. His jacket was covered in embedded coal dust, and only one thought cycled through his mind—getting to his bunk.
Right at the entrance, Elyria crossed his path. She was cutting circles in the air, leaving a trail of green sparks behind her.
Noah stopped and glared at the spirit. "Messing around again?" he spat.
Elyria braked sharply in midair, hovering right in front of his nose. "I'm the one messing around?!" her little voice practically burst with righteous fury. "My magic does more for Dornheim than all your rusty ironware combined! I reinforce the soil and level the stones. Besides..." she proudly cocked her nose up, "all this black ore in the deep was created by nature. Meaning—me. So you're just living off my generosity, you leech!"
Noah’s jaw twitched. He drew in a breath, suppressing the urge to strike her with all his might.
"Forget it," he muttered gloomily, waving her off. "Just tell me, where is Iron? He demanded a report at dawn."
Elyria instantly lost all her fire and blinked in confusion. "I don't know... He definitely hasn't left the workshop."
Together, they approached the heavy wooden door. Noah carefully pushed it open.
The floor was littered with crumpled drafts, broken crucibles, and charcoal crumbs. And in the very center of this mess, right behind the workbench, sat Iron. He had passed out right in his chair, his head tilted back onto a pile of scribbled parchments. His face was pale, deep black shadows hung under his eyes, and his cheek and clothes were stained with soot. One hand hung down, barely touching the floor, and around him lay fresh, detailed sketches of some massive tower.
Noah and Elyria exchanged a look, then simultaneously stared at the central sheet lying right under the engineer's elbow. Elyria focused. The largest, most detailed blueprint of the tower smoothly lifted off the table.
But before the sheet could rise even half a meter, Noah's hand flashed through the air. He caught the paper by the edge. "I get to look first," he commanded with just his lips, pulling the blueprint toward himself.
Elyria immediately lunged forward and grabbed the opposite edge of the parchment. "Give it! I lifted it!" the spirit hissed, trying to pull the paper over to her side.
"Let go, you'll tear it!" Noah jerked the blueprint toward himself, blocking her with his forearm.
Elyria pulled with all her might, channeling her magic. At some point, they both yanked the parchment too hard in opposite directions.
Rip.
Due to the magical tension and Noah's speed, the thick sheet tore into dozens of small, ragged pieces with a loud crack.
At that sound, Iron jolted awake. His head twitched, he took a heavy breath, and opened his eyes. Noah and Elyria froze dead in their tracks. Instantly, they scooped up the scraps of the blueprint and hid them behind their backs.
"Oh... so you're awake?" Noah forced a friendly face, though his left eye twitched slightly. "Good morning!"
"Yeah... morning, Iron! How did you sleep?" Elyria squeaked.
Iron grimaced sleepily, rubbed his charcoal-stained forehead, and reached his hand toward the workbench, intending to dive straight back into the tower calculations. Noah and the spirit exchanged a glance.
"Whoa, hold on! Straight into work?" Noah intercepted Iron's hand, keeping him from reaching the table. "Look at yourself. Go get some water. Clear your head."
"Yeah, yeah! Eat first!" Elyria chimed in, flying actively around his head. "Make sure to wash up!"
"Alright, alright..." he grumbled, turning his chair around. "Just don't touch anything here."
The wheels hummed quietly, and Iron disappeared behind the door, heading toward the residential block. As soon as the door closed behind him, Noah and Elyria exhaled in unison.
But immediately, Noah dumped the pile of paper scraps from behind his back onto the workbench. Elyria dived down right after him.
Fix it! Use your magic! Quick!" Noah hissed, trying to line up the ragged edges.
"I don't know how to fix paper!" Elyria squeaked in a panic, but she still sparked green embers on her fingers. The magic enveloped the scraps, but instead of joining together, the thin parchment began to lightly char at the edges from the spirit's nervousness.
"Stop, idiot, you're going to burn it!" Noah shoved her finger aside and tried to assemble the pieces manually. "Okay, this is the corner of the tower... no, this is a gear... why the hell aren't the lines matching?! Your wings messed everything up!"
"Your hands tore it all up!" Elyria snapped back.
Realizing that reviving the blueprint was impossible, Noah scooped the paper debris into his fist and stuffed it under a heavy cast-iron crucible in the corner of the table.
The heavy door swung open. Iron rolled into the workshop—already washed up, with damp hair and a refreshed face. He held a mug of clean water in his hand. "Why are you two still here?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Just... breathing in your healing air," Noah squeezed out, unblinking.
Iron shook his head, brought his chair to the table, and lowered his gaze to the work surface. He ran his palm over the wood. Frowned. Looked over the table again.
"I don't get it..." he said softly. "Where is my main blueprint of the stationary tower? I left it right here."
At that moment, Noah's heart skipped a beat. Elyria squeezed her eyes shut, mentally apologizing to Iron. Iron pursed his lips, looked at the floor around the chair, and then sighed heavily: "Did a draft sweep it away?.. Strange."
He reached into the rolling drawer of his chair, rummaged through some papers, and... with a smooth motion, pulled out an absolutely clean, identical parchment with the exact same detailed schematic of the emitter.
"Oh well. Good thing I made two duplicates right away. An old habit—always duplicate important projects, in case something burns."
Noah and Elyria exhaled in unison. Noah even stumbled slightly, and the spirit slumped weakly onto the rim of the inkwell.
Iron raised his eyes to them, arching an eyebrow: "Is everything alright with you two? You look a bit pale."
"Nothing!" they barked in unison.
"Going to check the mines!" Noah barked, spinning on his heels.
"And I... will go check the trees!" Elyria squeaked and shot like a bullet through the ventilation slit.
Iron just shook his head at their oddities. He unrolled the duplicate blueprint, picked up his charcoal, and immersed himself in the calculations for the protective perimeter, visualizing in detail how the ultrasonic wave would blanket Dornheim.
Suddenly, right before his eyes, the air shimmered as usual. The translucent lines of the system interface "Lumon" flared with a soft azure light:
[Attention. The process of automatic regeneration of the lower limbs is 50% complete. Muscle tone has been partially restored.]
Iron slowly lowered his gaze to his legs, hidden beneath the thick blanket. 50%. Couldn't you give me good news more often, Lumon? he thought to himself.
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