The morning air of Kiten was thin and cold, but inside Lencar's underground lab, heat shimmered off the metal walls. Circuits hummed faintly as he adjusted his gloves, tracing mana threads between the floating relics surrounding him.
"System test number twenty-four," he muttered, eyes flicking to the Mirror Tablet of Vekil. "Cross-link Etherium Core, Band of Neros, and Conductor Gauntlet. Let's see if I can finally get stable spatial tethering."
The gauntlet hummed, threads of mana glowing blue along his fingers. The Etherium Core pulsed once — a low, dangerous sound like a heartbeat in a storm.
"Easy now," he whispered. "You're just a power source, not a bomb."
He tapped the Mirror Tablet. Runes shimmered across its surface, forming a holographic pattern of interconnected loops — a spatial map.
He exhaled. "If this works, I can anchor a short-range movement spell without breaking mana symmetry."
He lifted his hand.
"Replication Sequence: Link Start."
A faint glow surrounded him. The runes from the mirror streamed into the air, shaping a half-circle portal — unstable but visible. The edges flickered, distorting light like heat waves.
Then came the surge.
The Etherium Core flared — cracks glowing crimson — and a sound like tearing fabric filled the room. Lencar's eyes widened.
"Oh no. Not again."
The portal collapsed inward, and the room imploded with a concussive blast that sent him flying across the floor. He landed hard, coughing smoke.
A moment of silence. Then a dry voice from the corner.
"You call that stable?" Rebecca asked, stepping into the room, wearing her usual exasperated expression. "The walls are vibrating."
He looked up weakly. "That was a partial success."
She raised an eyebrow. "You almost blew up the mana conduits again."
"Progress requires risk," he said, brushing dust off his coat. "At least this time I didn't end up in another dimension."
"That happened once," she said flatly. "And you were gone for six hours."
He smirked faintly. "Time is relative."
Rebecca sighed, arms crossed. "You're impossible."
"Statistically confirmed," he said, grinning.
They moved outside, to the open field behind the workshop. Rebecca stood ready with her staff while Lencar set the training array — runes glowing in a faint circle around them.
"Alright," she said. "Let's test your new toys."
He cracked his neck. "Finally. Practical application."
She smirked. "Try not to burn the grass again."
He raised his hand — the Runic Band of Neros glowing on his finger. His mana flow stabilized instantly, the world quieting around him. Then he drew Ignis and Voltra, the twin blades shimmering with their elemental cores.
"Fire and lightning combo trial," he said. "Phase one."
He swung Ignis first — a slash of fire burst forward, heat bending the air. Rebecca countered with a defensive spell, a shimmering wall of ice forming just in time to block it.
Then he threw Voltra — lightning arced midair, bouncing between runic nodes he'd placed earlier. The dagger zipped back into his hand automatically.
Rebecca frowned. "That tracking rune's new."
He grinned. "Version 3.2 — now with less accidental stabbing."
She laughed despite herself. "You're insufferable."
"I prefer innovative."
They sparred for nearly an hour — fire and ice, lightning and water clashing rhythmically. Lencar moved faster each round, integrating the Aegis Core to auto-deflect stray spells, while the Bahal Orbs stayed sealed at his side — his "last resort."
Finally, he raised his gauntlet, connecting it to the Mirror Tablet hovering nearby. Mana flowed through, mapping Rebecca's last attack in real-time.
He whispered, "Reverse Replication."
The grimoire beside him opened — the copied spell structure materializing on his palm. He launched it back at her — an exact mirror of her ice strike, but enhanced.
She barely blocked it. The ice shattered around them, shards sparkling in the air.
She stared, stunned. "You just—copied my spell?"
"Reflected and refined," he said calmly, though sweat ran down his temple. "Reverse Replication now works with foreign mana signatures."
Rebecca lowered her staff, her expression unreadable. "That's... insane, Lencar."
He smiled faintly. "That's the point."
As the sun began to set, he packed his gear into a reinforced case — each relic sliding into its compartment with a faint hum. He checked the Valenlink Crystal last, activating it.
A faint projection flickered to life — a cloaked figure. The voice was distorted, mechanical, but clear.
"Lencar. This is from the Southern Research Division. The Kiten Dungeon… it's reactivating."
Lencar's eyes sharpened. "How long?"
"Two days at most. Mana surge readings are consistent with previous core awakenings."
Rebecca's expression turned grim. "The same dungeon you said was sealed decades ago?"
He nodded slowly. "Sealed — yes. Inactive — apparently not."
The figure continued, "You're one of the few with clearance and compatible mana systems. The central council is requesting field analysis."
Lencar folded his arms, deep in thought. "Understood. Send coordinates to my link crystal."
"Already done. Good luck, Lencar. You'll need it."
The projection vanished.
Rebecca looked at him. "You're actually going."
He nodded once. "Of course. If the dungeon's reawakening, it means something's trying to break containment."
She frowned. "And what if it's not something? What if it's someone?"
He looked toward the horizon — the faint glow of Kiten's outer forest reflecting in his eyes. "Then we find out who they are… and what they want."
He turned toward the lab, cloak trailing behind him, the faint pulse of his relics syncing with his heartbeat.
The calm before the storm.