The faint glow of dawn crept through the tall crystalline windows of Rui's chamber, casting soft hues of gold and blue across the polished stone floor. It was early morning, the air was still, heavy with the scent of alchemical reagents and faint traces of ozone—a lingering residue of countless failed experiments.
In the center of the chamber, Rui sat shirtless on a mana isolation platform, his silver eyes half-lidded as he focused inward. The faint golden threads beneath his skin pulsed softly, like distant stars flickering in the void.
Nearby, Kovar stood hunched over an alchemical console, his gloved hands carefully adjusting valves and sigils etched into the glass vials in front of him. Faint steam hissed as crystalline fluid trickled into a larger injector, its contents glowing with an iridescent blue light.
The glass dome on Kovar's head flickered with amber uncertainty. His voice broke the silence, low but steady.
"This serum is… different. Its composition integrates aetherial stabilizers with mana-reactive catalysts. It's volatile, Rui. And I don't mean that lightly."
Rui opened his eyes, faint sigils glowing within his irises. His voice was calm. "It's worth a try, isn't it?"
Kovar hesitated. He stared at the glowing vial, his gauntleted hand trembling slightly as he lifted it from the console.
"We've tried everything else," Kovar admitted. "This might work. Or it might—"
"—shatter me entirely," Rui finished, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, Kovar. I'm harder to break than that."
Kovar exhaled a sharp breath before stepping forward. He knelt in front of Rui, bringing the crystalline injector to the young man's sternum. The faint hum of runic stabilization glyphs flickered to life on the edges of the platform.
"Stay as still as possible," Kovar said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Rui closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The runes in his irises dimmed, and his body became unnaturally still.
Kovar pressed the injector against Rui's chest, directly above his heart.
There was a faint hiss as the blue serum was released into Rui's body. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Rui's eyes snapped open—his breath hitched, his muscles tensed, and faint golden cracks flared across his chest, glowing fiercely. The golden threads within him pulsed brighter than ever, weaving and intertwining with strands of faint blue light now coursing through his veins.
Kovar stumbled back, his amber dome flashing with frantic patterns of light as he scanned Rui's vitals on the console nearby.
"Mana levels are stabilizing… but the core… the fractures are reacting!" Kovar's voice trembled with astonishment.
Rui clenched his fists as warmth surged through his chest, spreading outward like a tide. For the first time in weeks, the golden threads didn't recoil—they accepted the serum, merging with the faint blue strands in a delicate dance of energy.
The image of his core appeared vividly in Rui's mind. The fractures were still there, sharp and glaring—but something was changing. The golden threads weren't fraying or rejecting the influence of the serum. They were… knitting. Slowly, carefully, but unmistakably knitting the fractures together.
After what felt like an eternity, Rui exhaled sharply and slumped forward, bracing himself on his knees. His chest still glowed faintly, the golden and blue light intertwining beneath his skin before fading back into stillness.
Kovar stared at him in silence for several moments before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Progress."
Rui looked up, his silver eyes glowing faintly with renewed clarity. His breath was steady, and the usual dull ache in his chest was… lessened. Not gone, but lessened.
"It's working, Kovar," Rui said quietly, his voice carrying a faint edge of relief.
Kovar nodded, his glass dome flickering with slow, steady pulses of amber light. "It's not a complete fix, Rui. But it's… something. The serum has created a bridge—a temporary stabilizer between the fractures."
Rui leaned back against the platform, his chest still faintly aglow. "Then we keep going. We refine it. We make it better."
Kovar turned back to the alchemical console, his gloved hands already moving to make adjustments. "I'll prepare more doses. Carefully. Too much, and the balance will collapse. Too little, and it won't hold."
Rui tilted his head back, letting out a slow breath as his gaze drifted toward the ceiling. For the first time in what felt like ages, hope—small and fragile, but real—flickered in his chest.