Ferra locked the crucible clamps into place while Hajin aligned his three Rings with the forge halo.
In the center of the private workshop loft, Ferra stood before the master anvil, her forge halo blazing with blinding radiance.
Her single copper-tinted wing fluttered in steady arcs, pumping cooling gusts of mountain air over the workshop floor.
Across the graphite work surface lay the three fractured segments of the Celestial Chain, their star-ore links dull and pitted.
"Aria, modulate the harmonic mana feed to seventy-two cycles per second," Ferra commanded, her voice steady with supreme focus.
"If the frequency drifts by even half a hertz, the solar plasma will vaporize the containment clamps!"
"Harmonic damper locked at seventy-two point zero cycles, artisan," the digital fairy confirmed, monitoring the glowing interface.
"Thermal containment is holding at ninety-nine point four percent stability."
