An hour after leaving his home, Ether made his way through some curtains. He paused, turning to his right before taking his shirt off and hanging it on one of the empty hooks.
Once that was done, he entered his work station. Zegi quickly moved, focusing on their jobs so they could get the next batch out on time.
Ether's hair and eye color began to change. Steadily turning orange as more heat entered his heater organ and repurposed itself as his Third Rule.
Some eyes turned to look at him. Such as Lestral, a co-worker that found herself curious of stories Ether had to share. Every time he hosted story sessions during lunch break, she'd listen.
Digging herself into fictional places such as a world with giant roads stretching from one part of a region to the other. And on these roads, guards patrolled and ensured everyone's safety.
She paused bending metal together, choosing to watch Ether hurry along to his station at the back. As he walked away, her eyes fell on a strange aura that followed behind him.
It was almost like steam, except it resembled a Thresher. The thing even acted like it was being forced to walk along with him.
When he arrived to his station, Ether took out his stool and stood on it. Then he reached for a hammer and a bucket of freshly heated metal.
Ether reached for one of the red hot rods, then he brought it closer for inspection. His left hand grappled onto the other end, then he gently bent the metal. Making sure it was still hot enough.
Once it was confirmed, he got to work on hammering down the edges and making sure there were no rigid surfaces or weak sections. His hammer slammed down on the rod's side.
Then it came down again, making a loud banging noise. Ether's eyes turned clinical, focusing strictly on his work. He swung again, driving the hammer against the rod.
Just as machines in Furmire did. They retreated, then slammed down onto the metal that needed reshaping. Workers stood by, waiting to pause the machine, then make adjustments to the burning metals.
Nobody expected anything out of place to happen that day. It was like any other. The machines' flat heads slammed once again, making a loud clank.
Thawed carried large chunks of unrefined metal out of their wagons. They patiently waited behind a Zegus, who guided them to the right forge. Where they deposited the stone-infused metal.
"All right, that'll do for now." The Zegus turned the forge's heat up. "Cracual," he locked eyes with one of the Thawed. "Our admins want to see you. They said it has something to do with your resource-replenishing rituals."
Cracual nodded, then walked away. Followed by her co-workers. Leaving the Zegus to tend to the forge alone. He kept his eyes locked on the metal through the window.
Stone began to turn into magma, slowly sliding off the metal. Once the worker was sure all the right conditions were set, he backed up, then made his way towards the delivery bay.
Other workers moved by, directing Thawed to empty forges. Steam fogged the inside of the firehouse, making the inside look well decorated with the ghostly orange flames of the forges.
"With all these windows open, one would think that -" a loud whistling noise interrupted the Zegus. He paused, just as everyone else did. "What was that?" concern was clear in his voice.
The Zegus looked up at the overhead ceiling windows, searching for a possible cause. But there was nothing out there, what caused it was already gone and got what they wanted.
Valentine Primed careened through the clear skies. Reaching mach 5 in a near instant. And soon after, the sound barrier was beginning to struggle in keeping up.
Until he stopped, which let out a loud explosion noise. Eyes turned to the sky, looking for what caused this. And he stared back. Looking down at the Variants on the shore.
Everyone stopped what they were doing. Singers stopped singing, dancers stopped dancing. The sailors stopped anchoring their ships or undocking them.
Curiosity got the better of people. They didn't know what was hovering above them, all that they did know was it didn't resemble a normal Variant in the slightest.
Blood rings circled around Valentine's body, almost like standing guard for a projectile to rise up against him. He patiently waited for when his heart told him was the right time.
Minutes went by, allowing the residents to slowly resume their work. And in due time, they were going back to working as effectively as before. Except with the random times they'd stare up at the visitor.
When the sun began going down, Valentine's heart began to beat faster and harder. It was telling him now was the time to strike.
Valentine Primed reached out for the furthest ring, detaching it from the set. Then he hurled it at the city beneath him. It whistled as it tore through the sky, eventually making contact.
The instant it touched solid ground, it began spinning faster than the eye could see. Causing a large sinkhole to erupt from the collision.
Variants screamed and ran away from the strange event. All of which were too scared to figure out what was happening.
Sand buried wood and stone as the entire beach-side sunk inside. Freezing ocean water quickly poured in, catching unfortunate Variants inside.
Ships slowly drifted closer to the massive crater in the ground, which continued to rapidly grow in size. Valentine Primed reached for his smallest ring, then he hurled it at escaping victims.
It careened towards them, then began ripping them apart. Their blood oozed out of open wounds on their legs and severed feet. Making sure they were there to see what was happening.
And lastly, Valentine reached for his middle ring. This one he hurled at the sky over him. It paused not too far above, then it increased in size until it covered the entire city.
Valentine carelessly watched, knowing this was the start of the end for Yarno.