Leaving the Celestial Spire was like surfacing from a deep, cold ocean. The opulent warmth of the tower gave way to the crisp, cool air of the night, and Zero took a deep breath, steadying the tempest of emotions that his `[Callous]` skill was struggling to suppress. Rage, hatred, and a bitter, mocking sense of irony warred within him. He had just shaken hands with the devil, and the devil had worn the faces of his most trusted friends.
The meeting had been a resounding success. He had achieved his primary objective: embedding himself within his enemies' inner circle. He was no longer an external threat they might one day notice, but a trusted component within their own machine. A virus that had just been granted administrator access. The "favor" he had extracted was a masterstroke, a blank check of future leverage that he could cash in at the most opportune, and devastating, moment.
But the encounter had also left a bitter taste in his mouth. Their casual arrogance, their assumption that he was just a tool to be bought and used, was a perfect echo of his past life. It was a stark, infuriating reminder of *why* he was on this path. They hadn't changed. They were the same manipulative, self-serving monsters. The only difference was that this time, he was the one holding the leash.
He didn't go back to his dorm. His mind was too active, the echoes of the past too loud. He needed a place to think, a place where the sterile logic of his new existence held sway. He made his way to the only place on campus that felt like his own territory: the Artificer's workshop.
He didn't bother with the door this time. He went to the side of the building, a sheer brick wall with a single, barred window on the second floor. He took out his Blink Dagger, its dark metal cool against his palm. He threw it in a high, perfect arc, the blade sailing through the narrow gap between the iron bars of the window.
He activated the skill.
The world dissolved and reformed. He was inside, landing in a silent crouch on the workshop floor, his hand already wrapped around the dagger's hilt. The workshop was dark, the only light coming from the moonlight streaming through the windows and the faint, residual glow of a few cooling enchantments.
"I was wondering when you'd show up."
The voice came from the darkest corner of the room. Elara Vance stepped out of the shadows, not a hint of surprise on her face. She wasn't holding a weapon, but a strange, intricate device of spinning gyroscopes and glowing crystals. "My new dimensional resonance detector," she explained, her voice calm and clinical. "It doesn't detect the teleportation itself. It detects the 'void echo' left in its wake. Crude, but effective. You make quite a unique signature, Ashe. Or should I call you Zero?"
Zero's blood ran cold for a second. *How?*
As if reading his mind, she gestured to the empty anti-toxin vial and his returned note, which now sat in a place of honor on her workbench. "That was not the act of an 'Ashe.' Ashe is the name of a helpful, scared little boy. The person who infiltrated my workshop, who understands the nuances of a challenge, who hunts Shadow Panthers for pocket money… that person is a void. An unknown variable. A zero."
Her intellect was terrifying. She hadn't just seen through his act; she had deconstructed his entire persona and arrived at the same conclusion he had.
Zero didn't bother with denial. It would be an insult to her intelligence. He simply gave a slight, acknowledging nod. "Elara."
"So, the ghost of the academy finally decides to speak to me directly," she said, a wry smile playing on her lips. She put down her device and leaned against a workbench. "I assume you're not here to critique my cutlery again. What do you want?"
"I have a new project," Zero stated, getting straight to the point. "And I require the services of a skilled Artificer. One who isn't afraid of 'unorthodox' principles." He was using her own reputation, her own academic brand, as part of his pitch. `[Intellectual Bait]` was working perfectly.
Elara's grey eyes lit up with interest. "A project? Don't you mean a quest? I heard you were seen leaving the Celestial Spire. Don't tell me the golden children have already sunk their claws into you."
"They have offered me a contract," Zero corrected. "To retrieve an artifact from the Grave of the Iron King."
Elara's eyebrows shot up. "The Iron King's tomb? That place is a legend. It's been sealed for a century. No one has ever found the key."
"I know where the key is," Zero said simply.
The statement hung in the air, simple, declarative, and utterly impossible. Elara stared at him, her analytical mind working furiously, trying to process the sheer audacity of his claim.
"And I know," Zero continued, pressing his advantage, "that the primary guardians of the tomb are archaic clockwork sentinels. Golems. Constructs that are highly resistant to physical and elemental magic. But, I would imagine, they might be vulnerable to someone who understands the principles of their construction. Someone who could, perhaps, disrupt their internal runic matrices or exploit their power source."
He was laying the bait. He was offering her the one thing she craved more than anything else: a chance to test her theories on legendary, one-of-a-kind technology.
Elara's breath hitched. "The Iron King's golems… their power cores are said to be a lost form of thaumaturgical engineering. To be able to study one up close…" She was already lost, her mind racing with possibilities.
"I need a tool," Zero said, pulling her back to the present. "A device capable of emitting a focused, high-frequency resonance pulse. Something that can shatter archaic runes and disrupt delicate clockwork mechanisms without causing a massive explosion. Can you build it?"
Elara was silent for a long moment, her eyes distant. Then she turned to her blackboard and began to sketch with frantic energy. Arcs, runes, and energy flow diagrams filled the empty space. "The principle is sound," she muttered to herself. "A targeted sonic lance. The difficulty is in the power source and the focusing array. I'd need a core of pure, high-grade crystal. And the focusing conduits would have to be woven from silver and… yes, Shadow Panther sinew. Its light-absorbing properties would help contain the energy bleed."
She suddenly stopped and turned back to Zero. "It's possible. But it will be expensive. The crystal alone will cost at least ten gold. And I'll need three fresh strands of Shadow Panther sinew."
Zero didn't even blink. He reached into his pouch and placed two platinum coins on her workbench. Twenty gold. Double what she had asked for. Then he reached into his pack, pulled out the simple skinning knife, and began to expertly cut three long, dark, iridescent strands of sinew from the massive pelt he still carried. He coiled them neatly and placed them beside the coins.
Elara stared at the materials, then back at Zero, her expression a mixture of shock and dawning respect. He hadn't just come to her with a problem. He had come with the funding and the exotic materials required for the solution. He wasn't a client. He was a collaborator.
"I will also require a share of whatever we find," she stated, her voice regaining its composure. She was testing his boundaries, negotiating.
"You are not coming with me," Zero said flatly.
"The hell I'm not," she shot back, her eyes flashing. "You think I'm going to build a masterpiece like this and then let you have all the fun? I want to see it in action. I want to collect my own data on the golems. That is a non-negotiable part of my price."
Zero considered this. Her presence would be a risk. She was still a relative unknown, a variable he couldn't fully control. But her expertise on-site could be invaluable if something went wrong with the constructs. And her presence would further solidify their burgeoning, bizarre alliance. A partnership built not on trust or friendship, but on a mutual, ruthless pursuit of knowledge and power.
He was building his crew. The Alchemist. The Knight. And now, the Artificer. A collection of broken, brilliant tools.
"Fine," he conceded. "You will follow my orders without question. You will not engage unless I command it. You will be my support, not my partner."
"A technical consultant," she corrected, a smirk playing on her lips. "Agreed."
"I will need the device in three days," Zero said.
"Give me two," she replied, her eyes already gleaming with the thrill of the challenge.
A new pact was forged in the moonlit silence of the workshop. Zero turned to leave, his business concluded.
"Zero," she called out, her voice stopping him at the window. He turned back. "My brother, Marcus. His knee. What did you really do to him?"
Zero was silent for a moment. He looked at the brilliant, curious Artificer, at the partner he was reluctantly cultivating. He decided to give her a small piece of the truth, a crumb of the impossible reality he inhabited.
"His knee occupied a space," Zero said, his voice a low, chilling whisper. "I simply made sure a rock wanted to be in the same space, at the same time."
He then activated his Blink Dagger, which he had left on the roof, and vanished from the workshop, leaving Elara alone with his cryptic explanation, the pile of gold on her workbench, and the exhilarating, terrifying realization that she had just allied herself with someone who didn't just break the rules of magic, but broke the very rules of reality itself.