“You didn’t have to come,” Wexi addressed Alecsa even as the woman looked past Wexi, her gaze fixed on Sam. He could feel her dislike, like hot air pricking his skin. She was as hard as the first day they met. Her back was stiff, her gray hair cut low. She was older than Wexi, but her age hadn’t touched her eyes. There was stern power in them, and they followed him, as if waiting to catch a fault. Finally, she turned her eyes to Wexi, who seemed unusually pissed.

  “I wanted to see this new project you’re working on,” Alecsa said with a thin smile. Behind her stood her personal squad, dressed in black combat uniforms. They seemed unarmored by the usual steel or plate, but Wexi had told him they used a different kind of armor—far more durable and sturdy.

  They watched Wexi, but Sam felt they were actually watching him. The six of them filled the small workshop Wexi had set up for him. There wasn’t much in it yet. His crafting skill required almost no external tools, and he didn’t have enough seeds to get the tools Wexi said he’d need. On the table lay his decoupled Glock.

  “You know we haven’t begun,” Wexi said, stepping forward. One of the guards moved slightly. Wexi scoffed, and a look passed over Alecsa’s face. Sam had the feeling he’d missed something.

  “Your guards are wound tight and ready to spring,” Wexi said. “Is the tension because of your curiosity?” There was a bite in her words. The women stood in silence for a moment, sizing each other up.

  “Fine,” Alecsa sighed. “You win. You know what happened to him won’t be the last time.”

  “Yes,” Wexi replied, “You know what else I know? We’ve killed some of the D’Araks. You understand?”

  “I know,” Alecsa said, her eyes locking onto Sam again, the intensity burrowing into him. “Another reason he should go. They wanted him. They can have him. I don’t know about this Alpha, but the D’Araks hold grudges.”

  “You’d send a human out to die to save your hide, Alecsa?” Wexi asked, genuine surprise in her voice. “Age has certainly changed you, but this is a wild change, my friend.”

  Alecsa cringed but didn’t back down. Her dress was both extravagant and functional. From the slit on her left, Sam saw the dark wooden pommel of a dagger. She had let him see it—she wanted to gauge his response to the threat. Sam schooled himself to stay still, trusting Wexi. The guards had their blades, but those were expected, like furniture in a house. It was Alecsa he watched closely. She was the real danger. She could command that he be thrown out or delivered to the D’Araks as tribute.

  “You’re going to wait until he’s killed first?” Alecsa asked, frowning. “You think they won’t kill him? Or has being so close to him dulled your senses? Many in the city would put a knife in him the first chance they get.”

  Wexi shook her head. “You’d rather have a people who’ll readily kill a man who’s done nothing?”

  “You’d rather they kill him and plunge the city into chaos?” Alecsa retorted. “Darin, tell her what you’ve heard,” she motioned to one of her guards. The man stepped forward. He was short, built for the job, and had quick eyes. Sam had noticed him earlier. His short hair was curly, and the black of his uniform matched his tanned skin.

  Darin bowed to Alecsa and then to Wexi. “There’s talk of the Corins wanting blood. And though it’s quiet, I’ve heard of some hunters getting incentives to attack him,” Darin said, nodding at Sam. His gaze lingered briefly before he added, “I think the Forge is the most dangerous place for him at the moment, Lady Wexi.”

  “The Wild take you and what you think, Darin,” Wexi sneered. Sam shifted uncomfortably. The more he tried to stay quiet, the smaller, more invisible, and insignificant he felt. Wexi turned, giving Alecsa her full glare, her hands folded across her chest. There was an arrogance in her posture, as though she wouldn’t mind getting physical. And Sam could see that Alecsa was only seconds away from doing just that.

  “Will it be alright if I defend myself?” Sam asked, pulling their attention to him. Alecsa turned, her eyes burning with irritation. Sam held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. It was better to make her feel big, in control. His fate was in her hands. There was no need to rile her up. He looked meek, scared. Which was true. In the small room, he was the weakest, even though he was growing. The others could snap him in minutes.

  “So you can hurt my people?” Alecsa asked, her eyes betraying her annoyance. Sam wondered why she didn’t like him. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t from this world.

  That didn’t make sense, though. For a city like CragForge, Alecsa should be more like Wexi or Rosaria.

  “No,” Sam said. “So I can protect myself. Just like you would if you were attacked.”

  “And if he stays, he becomes one of your people too!” Wexi groaned, shaking her head as she walked back to the table they’d been working on. She picked up a brown parchment. It was dry and recently inked. Sam could still smell the dye and pigments. Wexi opened the parchment for them to see.

  “He’s helping make this place safer. Alecsa, his skill will help us build better machines to make the city more efficient. You can’t throw that away just because we lost a few people while they were doing their jobs.”

  “That is—”

  “Unfair, yes,” Wexi interrupted. “But it’s the truth. Bairon, would you put yourself between Alecsa and certain death?”

  Alecsa frowned, knowing the answer. She glared at Wexi but shrugged as though she was tired of the argument. Sam turned to the table where the parts of his Glock had been cleaned and prepared to be used for crafting. Alecsa took the parchment from Wexi, reading through it slowly. She passed it to the oldest of her guards.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “This is impossible,” he said, looking up from the parchment to Wexi and Sam. “You can’t do this, can you? The rapid fire alone would make the squads a real force to reckon with. But I don’t think any rune stone is capable of holding such a task, Lady Wexi. I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

  “I haven’t heard of anyone crafting a cannon on the spot while fighting a Krilig either, so are you saying Zel lied?”

  Bairon looked at the parchment again, then at Sam. He seemed to want to ask more questions, but he handed the parchment back to Alecsa and stepped back, his eyes fixed on Sam. Sam didn’t understand why they seemed so shocked by what he wanted to make. Wexi had created most of the machines the city ran on, so things like this shouldn’t be as interesting as they were making it out to be.

  “If you can protect yourself without killing anyone,” Alecsa said, frowning. Sam could see how difficult it was for her to make the concession. He nodded, hoping they would leave. Alecsa raised a finger for him to wait.

  “You have to make this for the city too,” she said. “You put the city in danger, so you’ll contribute to keeping it safe. I think that’s fair, don’t you, Wexi?”

  “No,” Sam said, suddenly annoyed by Alecsa’s attempt at cunning. Wexi chuckled, stepping aside as Sam walked forward to address Alecsa. He acknowledged her role in the city, but he wouldn’t be used. Two of her guards moved forward, resting their hands on the hilts of their blades. Sam knew they wouldn’t hesitate to use them if he made the wrong move.

  “I’m part of this city, Lady Alecsa,” Sam said. “At least, I’m trying to be. I have the right to establish trade here, and I don’t know what it will look like or if I’ll be able to, but if you want these guns, you’ll have to buy them.”

  “At a much-discounted price, of course,” Wexi added. When Sam turned to her, she was grinning. “I mean, the city will be providing the materials you need. You want to be fair, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Sam said, turning a grin on Alecsa.

  She looked from Wexi to Sam and then back to the old Head Tech. “It feels like I’m seeing two of you.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Wexi said with a smug look. “Although Samuel has a long way to go.”

  “Now, can I see this project you’re working on? I’ll send Dina to come sort out the rest later. I’ve been curious to see how his skill works. From Callen’s report, he created the cannon from a scrap drone, so it was more like reforming. I’ve never heard of anything like that. Have you, Bairon?”

  “I haven’t,” Bairon muttered. “I once saw someone who could repurpose a rune stone’s function. She couldn’t change the fundamental attribute, but she could adjust how it executed and made it compatible with different constructs. Saved her a ton of seeds.”

  “You mean Puria?” Wexi asked, and Bairon snapped his fingers in confirmation. “Yes, I’ve read of her. She was an old-world mage. One of the best of the lost realms. She and a few others created crude versions of the weapons we use today. Hers were dangerous, and rune magic was still unpopular.”

  “Yes,” Bairon said, his eyes lighting up as he chatted weapons and designs with Wexi, until Alecsa stopped them, calling their attention back to the Glock on the table. Wexi grinned, gesturing for Sam to take over.

  “You sure you don’t want to do it?” Sam asked, and Wexi shook her head, moving closer to Alecsa to whisper something to the other woman. He felt exposed, as though they could all see through him. He took the parchment of the mini-cannon they’d prepared. Wexi had taken apart the cannon he made to fight the Krilig, and they had merged what they’d learned with what Sam knew about firearms from his old world.

  Sam stretched his hand over the components. He took a sharp breath and winced, feeling a stiff bite from some bruises yet to heal. When his breathing felt stable enough, he pulled up the image of the gun in his mind. He had all the parts; he just needed to repurpose some of them to fit the new weapon he was trying to make.

  [Proto-crafting]

  --Crafting sequence: initiated…

  --proposed construct blueprint: % 92

  That was good enough. The image was clear in his mind, and so was the function. There was very little uncertainty, which meant he was working with a solid model. He focused as essence rushed out of him, spreading across the table. Strands of essence picked up the parts, reshaping them slowly to fit the new function Sam had planned for them. It was euphoric, being able to control so much at once.

  “Wexi,” Sam called, and when he opened his eyes, she was standing beside him, holding up a flat metal plate, as thin as a coin. Its runes were unique, carrying an open-ended attribute.

  “That’s a strange rune stone,” Bairon said, stepping forward. Wexi gestured for him to step back.

  “It’s about to get troublesome,” Wexi warned, and Sam felt the crippling cold snake up his arm, numbing it as he fought against the power that sparked from the rune stone when he poured essence into it. It resisted his influence, trying to complete itself, but Sam forced his will against it, rushing to complete the crafting while suppressing the rune stone’s will.

  “That’s not a rune stone!” Alecsa exclaimed, and Wexi grinned. Sam was too strained to grin, but there was a blazing pleasure within him. The staggering realization that he could push against something so powerful. The first time he’d tried controlling the rune stone, he’d needed Wexi’s help. His growth was obvious in how quickly he controlled the essence now.

  --Component integrity: % 100

  Sam created a latching compartment to hold the stone in place. He wished he could make runes to help strengthen the weapon, allowing it to execute the rune stone’s absurd power. In the absence of that, he’d have to make sure not to overexert the gun. Too much power would shatter it and trigger the rune stone, which would kill him instantly.

  He stumbled back and felt a large hand at his back. Bairon was standing behind him, eyes wide as he watched Sam work.

  --Double-layered rune stone integrated

  --Rune stone compatibility: % 100

  Once Sam lodged the rune stone in its chamber, strands of metal curled around it like dark webs. The barrel, bulky and splitting into six revolving smaller barrels, gleamed—a black beauty of a weapon, designed for death. Sam completed the forging and let the weapon drop onto the table. Sweat soaked his body, cold from essence drain, and hunger gnawed at him. His body shivered, and he nearly collapsed.

  “He looks like a husk,” Bairon said, holding him steady. Sam gestured weakly at a chair leaning against the far wall. Bairon and another guard helped him to it, placing him down gently. Sam closed his eyes, letting the darkness behind his eyelids fill the new emptiness within him. The gun was perfect. Not just for blasting focused plasma-like fire spells, but for the other things it could do.

  “Will he be alright?” Alecsa asked. Sam opened his eyes to see them all staring at the weapon on the table. He saw the new spread of messages and grinned, eyes half-closed.

  You have leveled up! [Level 12]

  [All attributes adjusted accordingly]

  +1 VIT, +2 WIL

  Alecsa tried to pick up the gun. She frowned, using both hands to support herself, but she couldn’t lift it. When she stepped back, Wexi chuckled. She walked over, easily lifting the gun, then placing it back down.

  “Was that an enchantment?” Bairon asked, and Wexi laughed, nodding. “Heaven’s ass, that rune stone was enchanted too!”