The next morning, Rennick awoke to the dull hum of a delivery drone lifting off outside his workshop. As he stepped outside, a large container rested at the edge of the clearing.
"That must be the materials I ordered," he muttered, stretching.
He freshened up and walked back into the workshop with renewed determination. Jean was already awake and visibly buzzing with excitement.
"Okay," Rennick said, tightening his multi-tool belt. "Today marks the beginning of manufacturing the Tempered Blade."
Jean practically bounced on his heels. "Finally!"
"But before we start," Rennick said, turning serious, "I want you to remember my request. Keep Caelum's story in mind while we work. Try to feel it—not just build it."
Jean gave him a firm thumbs-up. "Right. Don't worry, boss. Now can we get to the good part?"
Rennick chuckled. "In a second. First rule: test all your equipment. Nothing's worse than wasting high-grade material because of an oversight."
Jean groaned but nodded. "But I am going to get to build parts, right?"
Rennick hesitated, then relented with a sigh. "Sure. I'll let you handle non-critical components."
They began by calibrating their equipment. Rennick brought Jean over to observe the tuning of the workshop's core machine—a refurbished second-hand Hennepin 3D printer. It was old, bulky, and slow compared to modern printers, but it still did its job at a satisfying level in the hands of a designer and engineer who knows how to make this thing work.
Rennick took a deep breath and began inspecting the printer piece by piece—the platform, the motors, the nozzle, and every cable and joint that connected them. He forced himself to move slowly, studying each part with deliberate care, searching for anything that might be out of alignment or worn thin. Several flaws revealed themselves as he worked: loose fittings, uneven tension, small irregularities in the surface. None of them were disastrous on their own, not enough to bring the entire process to a halt, but they were certainly troublesome—small weaknesses that could ripple through the machine, cause errors in the printing, and ultimately interfere with the precision the assembly demanded.
He went on to clean the nozzle, valve and recalibrated the motors and drives of the printer and ensured they work smoothly to his satisfaction before proceeding to print a test model for the final check of the printer.
He used a small amount of material that is to be used for the armor for the final check of the equipment all while Jean observed the whole process carefully.
As they looked at the result of their test, Rennick said showing the result of the print to Jean, "See, that's why it is important to calibrate the 3d printer carefully before proceeding to use the actual materials which are not replaceable."
As Jean observed the malformed model of the test model he nodded and Rennick continued, "The way the material has dripped off indicates that either the material has not been refined properly or the setting of the heating element is not calibrated properly."
Rennick went on to check both of the components and certainly enough the heating element was at way higher temperature as well as the refiner had some gunk stuck at the filter from previous prints causing impurities to be mixed in which along with the high temperature compromised the test model's structure.
After recalibrating the heater and flushing out the filter, he ran another test print. This time, the result was clean—no warping, no impurities.
"Alright," Rennick said, clapping his hands. "Go fix up the assembler. We're going to need it ready soon."
Jean saluted and hurried off. While he reassembled and adjusted the mounting frame of the old Westhaven Guardian, Rennick observed the work for a while before going for printing.
Rennick, once assured that Jean could handle the assembler, turned his full attention to the 3D printer. He loaded the schematics and models of the Tempered Blade, and as the projection unfolded before him, the mech's spirit seemed to step into the room. From its stance, the angle of its blade, and the weight of its weathered yet unyielding armor, it radiated discipline and resolve—a machine forged to cut through obstacles with unwavering focus. Justice lived in its very design, as if every line and joint were sharpened for that purpose.
He tapped the projection, scattering the form into thousands of components, each subsystem broken down into printable detail. As he studied them, Rennick immersed himself in the Caelum's story, determined to draw the mech from the realm of fiction into reality. He imagined himself almost like Ves, shaping life from lore, willing the Tempered Blade into existence.
"Okay," he murmured, drawing in a deep breath. "My mind's in the right place now." With that, he began the print, starting with the simplest yet most critical foundation—the internal frame. MTA regulations dictated strict specifications for certification; there could be no shortcuts here. Piece by piece, he printed the frame, each joint and socket scrutinized to ensure they remained within tolerance. Thanks to earlier calibration, the printer responded faithfully, laying down each layer with sharp precision.
When Jean returned, Rennick welcomed his help. Together they post-processed the parts—filing, polishing, and preparing each for assembly. He even let Jean print some non-critical components, guiding him patiently and correcting small mistakes so the boy could learn without endangering the larger process.
By the next day, Rennick advanced to the most critical systems: the power reactors, the engines and the cockpit. Here his concentration narrowed to a razor's edge. Every micron mattered. Even the smallest error could mean a mech that faltered in combat—or worse, one that destabilized entirely, spilling raw energy in a burst that threatened not just the machine, but its pilot and anyone nearby. Each layer of material he laid down carried that weight, demanding both skill and discipline, as though the Tempered Blade were testing him in return.
He refined materials repeatedly, cycling through six or seven iterations until even the impurities were refined out. Alloys that had once been dull, useless junk now gleamed like tempered steel.
Rennick ran his hands over the plating and knocking it at places feeling the quality of the armor plating as he spent a lot of time designing the outer layer of the Tempered Blade. By the time they finished printing the armored plating, both men were exhausted—but satisfied.
"It still looks dull without paint," Jean noted, running a hand over the cold Helix armor.
"Doesn't need to shine to be strong," Rennick replied with a smirk.
It took them almost 5 days to print all the individual parts of the mech from the musculature, and actuators to the blade of the mech.
When all the parts were complete, they stripped down the Guardian to its skeleton. The internal frame was refurbished and strengthened where needed. They attached the missing leg and replaced some of the components of other parts of the frame making it more resilient. New musculature was installed in layers, fitted snugly to each joint.
Once it was done, they moved onto the other organs of the mech. They installed the engine, then the reactor, then the cockpit—each piece carefully positioned and anchored. Rennick took particular care with cable routing, ensuring every subsystem had space to move and breathe without interference. Redundant connections were layered beneath the armor for added safety and leaving enough tolerance and length for the mech to perform its extended range of motion while not interfering with the working of other subsystems.
A minor hiccup occurred during installation of some small sensor modules—they didn't fit.
"These were printed near the end, weren't they?" Jean asked.
Rennick frowned, running diagnostics on the printer. The nozzle had worn out.
Fabricating a replacement took an hour. Once done, the malformed parts were reprinted, fitting perfectly this time.
They pressed on, assembling the armor panel by panel. Robotic arms lifted and aligned each piece, attaching them with secure mounts and bonding adhesives. Jean handled the sword assembly, admiring how the faded gold guard caught the light.
Two days of non-stop work later, the Tempered Blade finally stood—unfinished, but whole.
They both sighed in relief, a wide and satisfied smile on their face as Rennick pressed the painter module of the assembler.
"Man, that sure was tiring, but looking at the final thing it makes it all worth it." Jean said with a wide smile on his face.
Rennick nodded with a smile mirroring Jean's, "Yeah, but it's not complete,. I've have only applied the base paint,. I'll go and add the detailing on the mech after that."
Jean looked at Rennick his question clearly visible on his face asking, "Aren't you tired after the marathon we pulled?"
"Don't make that face, I will rest in the meantime the primary coat is being painted." Rennick said chuckling while looking at Jean's face.
Jean sighed listening to his answer and collapsed onto the workshop couch. "Suit yourself boss. I am going to sleep."
While Jean slept, the assembler completed the base coat. The Tempered Blade now stood in a solid navy-blue with black accents, quietly radiating strength. Rennick awoke, climbed the lift, and began hand-painting the final details.
He added faint gray stripes across key joints and subtle red accents around the visor and helm edges. The sword's guard gleamed with muted gold, while faded runes along the armor's surface offered a purely cosmetic echo of Caelum's lore.
As he descended and gazed upon the finished machine, a quiet awe filled him.
The Tempered Blade stood tall, its faded hues reflecting countless battles fought and survived. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't imposing.
But it was resolute.
A blade tempered in hardship, forged for a singular purpose.
He had made many variants and restored other mechs before this but this mech felt different and special for him as it was the first mech he could feel had spirituality like Ves's mechs.
Rennick's heart stirred. The feeling was faint, but real. A presence—not a spirit like Ves's design spirits, but something nonetheless. A subtle hum, as though the mech itself carried a soul sharpened through struggle.
He smiled.
"It's faint… but it's there. The X-factor. I really did it."
"Only thing left now…" Rennick said, eyes still on the mech, "...is getting MTA to certify it."