The next morning, Rennick sat at his terminal, the warm light of the rising sun seeping through the balcony windows, his mind clear after a full night's rest. Today, he would design one of the most crucial components of the mech—the sword.
Caelum's sword.
He remembered the details about Caelum's sword from the story.
The weapon had been described vividly in the story Freddy's mother wrote: a longsword of simple but elegant design—nothing ceremonial, nothing flashy—just dependable steel, honed through countless battles. Its proportions were balanced. Its width and taper designed for both reach and agility.He began with a standard longsword template, then moved carefully into modification. The first change was to the hilt, which he lengthened slightly for two-handed wielding, giving the weapon greater leverage and control. To preserve balance, he adjusted the blade's proportions, ensuring the weight remained centered and the swing remained fluid.
The blade came first. Straight and double-edged, it tapered gradually into a refined point—ideal for slashes, thrusts, and parries alike. He added a fuller running down both sides of the blade's spine, not only to reduce weight but to reflect the aesthetics described in the story. Along the blade's length in the fuller, he carefully etched ornamental runes—cosmetic touches, yes, but inspired by Caelum's magical sword that once glowed in response to oaths and heightened resolve.
Though Rennick knew it was all symbolic, he allowed himself to believe.
He etched these runes while focusing about the abilities these runes provided Caelum, even though he knew these were just ornamental like the ones on the mech's armor which supposed to grant him Protection against magical attacks in the story. Replicating that detail, Rennick layered a thin line of embedded optical filaments beneath the engravings just like under the armor and the helmet and programmed them to emit a subtle, steady glow when the mech was powered on.
With the blade finished, he moved on.
The guard was next—clean and angular, extending horizontally with gentle upward sweeps at the ends. At the centre, a diamond-shaped junction fused into the base of the blade and merged seamlessly into the hilt. Reinforcing it further, he added a forged collar—what Caelum's story called the Binding Crest—thickened and slightly flared, anchoring the blade to its core like a veteran never letting go of his sword.
For the grip, Rennick used the template's default composite—a rugged, non-slip material tested for heavy combat. Nothing extravagant, but it did the job.
He shaped the pommel into diamond like geometry mirroring the central motif of the guard, providing balance to the weapon.
He leaned back, stretching his stiff arms. The sun was already at its zenith. Half the day gone.
Now came the less glamorous but equally vital part: software.
"I'm designing this for a swordsman," Rennick reminded himself as he opened the interface development kit. "The whole point is clarity. Focus. Precision under pressure."
He immediately began clearing away the bloat. Gone were the excessive telemetry graphs, redundant damage indicators, and over-detailed diagnostics. He stripped the UI down to its essentials—vital stats, sensor feedback, predictive threat markers. Clean, intuitive, and centered around pilot reaction time, making the interface more intuitive for a swordsman to handle in the heat of the battle.
He kept the interface visual hierarchy simple. Important alerts were subtle but impossible to miss. Peripheral info was muted, available only when needed. It wasn't about denying the pilot data—but about helping them focus in a moment of danger.
He made sure the mech's control response felt tight. He adjusted the flush cycles and data synchronization between subsystems to reduce perceptible lag, even if only by a few milliseconds. It wouldn't win any awards—but the pilot would feel the difference in a live fight. Although he couldn't improve that much due to his limited knowledge on neural interfaces.
The standard MTA-grade interface was already optimized to the maximum efficiency the hardware allowed while still maintaining its safety protocols. He had no desire to tamper with those boundaries; the thought of experimenting recklessly with neural safety systems—and risking permanent harm or even crippling a pilot—was a line he would not cross.
Besides, if the MTA ever discovered he had meddled with the neural interface's safety limits, the design wouldn't even qualify for certification.
He sat back and stared at the screen.
The armor was done.
The sword was done.
The software interface was done.
The Tempered Path was nearly complete.
As he uploaded the software, he felt like he was bringing Caelum out from the pages of a book into reality.
As the final software packet compiled and uploaded into the design suite, a soft chime echoed through the terminal. Rennick leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes locked on the holographic projection of the finished design.
The Tempered Path stood there in all its solemn glory—a mech with the bearing of a knight and the posture of a swordsman. Every line, every curve, every plate of armor spoke not of aggression, but purpose.
And yet…
"I don't feel any X-factor from it...maybe a little?" Rennick muttered under his breath, brow furrowed.
He stared long and hard, waiting for something—anything—to click. A spark. A tingle down his spine.
He shook his head and exhaled, trying to push aside the creeping doubt.
"Maybe... maybe I'll be able to feel it more clearly when I actually build it." He was quite happy to at least sense something. "Maybe it's just an illusion." He'd have to see for it himself when he will actually build the mech.
It wasn't the first time he questioned himself. And it probably wouldn't be the last.
Still, there was no point in brooding. He tapped a few commands on his terminal and opened a comm channel to Freddy.
"Rennick! Just the man I wanted to hear from," Freddy answered, grinning broadly. "You finished the design?"
Rennick nodded and transferred the file. A few seconds later, Freddy's screen blinked, revealing the fully-rendered image of Tempered Path.
"Well, I'll be damned…" Freddy muttered, leaning closer. "This looks amazing, boy! What do you think, brother?" he asked someone off-screen. A muffled voice responded with something approving, and Freddy gave a satisfied nod. "Right, right. He says it looks like a proper swordsman!"
A smile tugged at Rennick's lips. "Thanks. We managed to hit a 20% Compartmentalization Containment Factor and 70% Redundancy Rating."
Freddy blinked. "I'm gonna pretend I understood that."
Rennick chuckled. "It means the mech can take a hit and still function within safe limits. The extra internal space from the original defensive knight frame gave us room to reinforce without bloating the design. It's still agile but much safer to operate under stress."
"Well, that part, I do understand," Freddy said with a thumbs-up. "Safer for my niece is always a win in my book."
His eyes scanned the design one more time, then looked back into the feed. "By the way, where's Jean? Haven't seen that walking bundle of sass in a while."
"He's packing," Rennick replied with a shrug. "His break's almost over—he's heading back to design college soon. Ship departs in 2 weeks."
"What? Already?" Freddy frowned. "Didn't he just get here?"
"He was here a month, old man. That's a full break."
Freddy grumbled, then asked cautiously, "He'll be around to help build the mech, though, right?"
"Relax, old man. I already said he's here for one more week. He'll be here for the testing phase and I do the manufacturing anyway."
"Ha! That's good, very good," Freddy said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Don't take it wrong, but you know having someone from the Friday Coalition design academies helping out? That's no small thing, even if he's still learning."
Rennick sighed at the theatrical tone. "Yes, old man, I'm aware. You've said it four times this week."
Rennick gave him a dry look. "By the way, I should also admire your courage for trying to flaunt the Count's third son's reputation just to market this mech. That's a feat even I wouldn't dare."
Freddy suddenly froze, sweat beading down his forehead. "H-Hey now… I didn't do anything like that. Don't go putting my head on the chopping block!"
Rennick let the silence hang for a few seconds.
Then smirked. "Relax. Your secret's safe."
Freddy laughed nervously, clearly relieved. "You almost gave me a heart attack, boy."