"To give an idea form is to give it risk."
The lab was alive with noise — humming generators, the soft crackle of power relays, and the restless tapping of Tesla's boots on the floor.
Florence stood in the center of the testing bay, coat folded neatly aside, her golden veins flickering beneath pale skin. Around her, the faint shimmer of Seraphim Constructs hovered like shards of condensed light — steady, patient, waiting.
Tesla pointed at the readings. "She's maintaining six stable constructs without degradation. That's double yesterday's record."
Einstein adjusted the control array. "She's not sustaining them through focus alone anymore. The neural field is self-stabilizing."
Florence grinned. "See? Practice makes paradoxes manageable."
Tesla sipped her coffee. "And burns out the power grid if you sneeze wrong."
Florence flicked her wrist — and one of the constructs shot forward, stopping centimeters from Tesla's arm before dissolving harmlessly into golden mist.
"Relax," Florence teased. "I've got precision now."
"Precision my—" Tesla caught herself, glanced at Einstein, then muttered, "—marvelous precision, sure."
Einstein's lips twitched. "She's right, though. The field density is remarkable. It's not just projection anymore, it's telekinetic manipulation at the molecular level. She's creating microgravity wells to guide matter through intent."
Florence raised an eyebrow. "Translation?"
"You can move things with your mind," Tesla said dryly. "Congratulations, princess."
Florence's grin widened. "Finally, my personality has a matching superpower."
They began the next phase — building a containment and relay harness to anchor her powers safely for field use.
Einstein supervised, projecting schematics onto the wall. "If we can align the Imaginary conduits to her neural frequency, the harness will distribute strain evenly. Think of it as a seatbelt for telekinesis."
Tesla rummaged through a tray of components. "Seatbelt, huh? I'd call it a leash."
Florence looked up from her workstation. "Only if someone else holds the end."
Einstein smiled faintly. "Then build it yourself."
And she did.
The hours blurred into the soft symphony of collaboration — the hiss of welding plasma, the click of magnetic seals, the quiet rhythm of invention.
Florence worked with a strange grace: measuring, soldering, recalibrating power channels like she'd been born in this lab. Tesla occasionally barked corrections; Einstein made calm observations, and between them all was a current of unspoken trust.
Finally, the prototype sat gleaming under the lights: a slim exoskeletal brace that rested along her spine and shoulders, woven from Anti-Entropy alloys and crystalline channels.
Einstein studied it, murmuring, "Field Stabilizer Prototype 01. The first of its kind."
Tesla crossed her arms. "Or the last, depending on how badly this goes."
Florence ran a hand along the device. "Only one way to find out."
The harness clicked into place with a low hum. Lines of light flowed outward from the connection points, tracing across her skin like veins of gold and blue.
The constructs flared into existence again — brighter, sharper, faster. They no longer wavered.
Florence moved her hand.The constructs mirrored her.
She looked at a loose wrench on the table. It rose smoothly into the air, turning in slow orbit before she flicked it into a storage bin without touching it.
Tesla's jaw dropped. "You just— You didn't— How—"
"Telekinesis," Florence said, smirking. "But make it tidy."
Einstein leaned forward, eyes shining. "Range?"
Florence focused on a metal beam across the room. The constructs blurred — and the beam groaned as invisible pressure bent it slightly before releasing.
"Fifteen meters clean," she said. "Twenty with feedback lag. And I can feel everything — mass, density, even temperature gradients."
Einstein nodded slowly. "Sensory feedback through the neural lattice. You're extending perception into the field itself."
Florence tilted her head. "So, basically, I can touch the world without touching it."
Tesla whistled. "Remind me never to play poker with you."
They moved on to real tests: redirecting debris, manipulating metal fragments, lifting heavy machinery.
Each movement was smoother than the last, as if she were painting with gravity itself. When a mechanical arm jammed mid-test, Florence simply reached out — not physically, but mentally — and the steel bent back into place.
"Not bad for a girl who used to bleed light," she said, grinning.
Einstein made a note on her pad. "Field stability achieved at 97%. Neural sync optimal. Emotional balance stable."
Tesla muttered, "Emotional balance my foot. She's enjoying this too much."
"Wouldn't you?" Florence asked, summoning a floating ring of constructs that shimmered like golden petals.
Tesla stared, half-annoyed, half-impressed. "You're a one-woman airstrike."
Florence winked. "And I do house calls."
When the power-down sequence finished, the constructs vanished, leaving faint motes of light drifting through the air. Florence exhaled — exhilarated but calm.
Einstein approached. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've finally met my own hands," Florence said softly.
Tesla looked up from the console. "You realize this puts you on par with high-tier Valkyries. Maybe above."
Florence shrugged. "Titles are overrated. I'll settle for effective."
Einstein smiled. "Then we'll need to prepare a proper field test."
Tesla groaned. "Of course we do."
Florence stretched, golden light fading slowly beneath her skin. "Relax, Doc. What's the worst that could happen?"
Tesla stared at her. "You're asking that question while standing in a lab built over an active Honkai suppression field."
Florence grinned. "Then the universe will have to keep up."