I leaned against the kitchen table, still thinking about Chia’s awakening.

“She got Magma Born,” I said. “Her element is explosive. Literally.”

Mom, who had been sorting herbs, paused.

Then—she sighed.

Not a sigh of relief.

A sigh that meant she already knew something I didn’t.

That didn’t sit right with me.

“…Mom?” I asked slowly. “What’s wrong?”

She set down the dried leaves in her hands, looking at me carefully.

“I’m happy for Chia,” she said. “Truly. But, Akul… she’s not going to have it easy.”

I frowned. “Why not? You just said you’re happy for her.”

“I am,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t change reality.”

A small chill ran down my spine.

“…What reality?”

She exhaled, pressing her fingers to her temple.

“Akul,” she said, “you’ve worked with beasts your whole life. You know better than anyone that some affinities are… harder than others.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

She met my eyes.

“Then let me ask you this,” she said. “Have you ever seen a Magma-type beast in our enclosure?”

I blinked.

And froze.

No.

I hadn’t.

There were earth types, wind types, water types, and physical types. Even a few rare elementals.

But no Magma-types.

“Why?” I asked.

Mom gave a sad smile. “Because they’re almost impossible to keep.”

She wiped her hands on a cloth and sat across from me.

“Magma beasts are powerful,” she said. “Very few elements can stand against them. Even water types struggle because a true Magma beast doesn’t just rely on heat—it hardens its body, internalizes its fire, and counters direct suppression.”

I raised a brow. “That sounds incredible. Wouldn’t that make them highly sought after?”

She chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound.

“Oh, they are,” she admitted. “But there’s a problem.”

I leaned in.

She held up a finger.

“One: They’re nearly impossible to contract.”

I blinked.

She continued, “Magma creatures are unstable. Stubborn. Explosive. Even the young ones are naturally aggressive and refuse to listen. Contracting them isn’t just difficult—it’s dangerous.”

I swallowed.

Right.

That made sense.

Magma wasn’t a passive element. It was destruction in its purest form.

But before I could say anything, she held up a second finger.

“Two: They’re rare. And that makes them expensive.”

I stiffened.

“Even if you get lucky enough to find a Magma-type, it won’t be cheap. If you’re buying, it’s bank-breaking. If you’re looking for one in the wild, you’ll have to go to incredibly dangerous areas. Volcanic zones. Lava pits. Places where one wrong step means death.”

I exhaled through my nose.

So even if Chia managed to get a Magma beast…

She’d have to afford it first.

And Chia’s family wasn’t wealthy.

I didn’t like where this was going.

“…Isn’t there a workaround?” I asked. “A different type of Magma beast? Something easier?”

Mom tilted her head, considering.

“Well,” she said. “It depends. Let’s think about options.”

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I nodded.

She tapped the table, thinking.

“A Charfang, for example, would be an amazing first contract,” she said. “It’s strong, fast, and has Lava Blood—which means any wounds it takes just make it stronger. But…”

She gave me a look.

“…You’d have to be insane to train one.”

I raised a brow. “That bad?”

She smirked. “Worse.”

I shuddered.

No thanks.

She continued.

“A Vorthiz Infernal Serpent would actually be perfect,” she admitted. “They’re massive, yes, but they’re highly intelligent. If you could get a young one, it could be trained well. The problem?”

I sighed. “Finding one.”

She nodded. “They live deep in lava tunnels and are almost impossible to track.”

She tapped her chin, thinking.

“…There’s also Cindermaw.”

I blinked. “What’s that?”

She smirked. “A lava worm.”

I made a face. “Ew.”

Mom laughed.

“Hey, don’t judge,” she said. “Cindermaws are extremely effective in combat. They spit lava, move underground, and can grow absurdly strong. But…”

I sighed. “What’s the catch?”

“…They explode when they get scared.”

I choked. “THEY WHAT?”

She grinned.

“Yup. Unstable Core. It’s like a failsafe. If they think they’re about to die, they blow themselves up and burrow away.”

I dragged a hand down my face.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

“…So what’s the best path?” I asked after a while.

Mom leaned back, exhaling.

“Realistically?” she murmured. “For someone like Chia? She’d have to make a tough choice.”

I stayed quiet.

She looked me in the eye.

“She can try to find and contract a weaker Magma-type,” she said. “One with defects, or one that’s barely stable enough to bond with her. But that comes with risks.”

I nodded.

“Or,” she continued, “she can work hard, gather money, and wait. Wait until she’s strong enough to find the right beast.”

A pause.

Then—

“She won’t like that,” I muttered.

Mom gave a small, sad smile.

“No,” she said softly. “She won’t.”

A heavy silence settled between us.

Chia was strong. She was determined. But she also wasn’t patient.

And this?

This wasn’t a short-term problem.

This was something that could hold her back for years.

I clenched my fists.

“…Then I’ll help her,” I said firmly.

Mom smiled.

“I thought you might say that.”

“…Yeah,” I muttered, exhaling.

"But...She won’t wait.” I felt that reality sink in.

Mom gave a small knowing smile.

And that's where we left it. I had nothing more I could say or think.

I exhaled through my nose, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Nothing.

No solution.

No path forward.

I should’ve known better than to think this would be easy.

“...I’ll see you later, Mom,” I muttered, turning toward the door.

I barely took two steps before—

“Akul.”

Her voice stopped me.

Firm, certain.

I turned back.

She was looking at me—not with pity, not with sympathy—but with purpose.

“There is… another option.”

My heart kicked.

I took a step closer.

“Another option?”

She nodded, but there was something hesitant in her expression.

Like this wasn’t easy to say.

Or maybe… like it wasn’t easy to do.

Then—finally—she spoke.

“What if,” she said carefully, “instead of looking for a Magma beast… we make one?”

I blinked.

Make one?

“Wait,” I said slowly. “You’re talking about transformation?”

Mom nodded.

“It’s not common,” she admitted. “But it’s possible. If done properly, a fire beast can be nurtured into a Magma beast.”

My mind raced.

Fire-types were way easier to find. Way cheaper.

And if this worked—if this was actually possible—then Chia wouldn’t have to go searching through deathtrap volcanoes or bankrupting her family just to get her first contract.

She could build something even better.

“Would it be weaker than a real Magma beast?” I asked.

Mom shook her head.

“Not necessarily. A pseudo-beast can be just as strong—or even stronger—than a natural-born Magma-type. It depends on the resources used, the training, and the care put into the transformation.”

I barely heard the rest.

My brain had already locked onto one thing.

This was it.

This was the answer.

I grinned.

“Then that’s it,” I said, practically buzzing with excitement. “That’s the path. I have to tell Chia—”

I turned, ready to sprint out the door—

But Mom’s voice stopped me again.

“Akul, wait.”

I hesitated.

Her expression had shifted.

Not hesitant.

Serious.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” she warned. “If you want to help Chia, really help her, then you need to understand what this means.”

I swallowed, straightening.

“…Go on.”

Mom exhaled, rubbing her temples.

“First,” she said, “this kind of transformation requires very specific conditions. It’s not just a matter of feeding a fire beast some rare minerals and calling it a day.”

I nodded. “I figured.”

“You’ll need the right magical tools, inscriptions, and—most importantly—a proper transformation lab.”

I frowned. “A lab?”

She nodded.

“There are special rituals, alchemical infusions, and mana saturation techniques that have to be done in a controlled environment. I can do most of the work myself, but I don’t have the tools here. That means…”

She paused.

I already knew what she was going to say.

I just really didn’t want to hear it.

“…You’d have to go through the Research Institute.”

My stomach dropped.

And then—

“HELL no.”

I took a full step back. “Absolutely not.”

Mom sighed. “Akul, calm down—”

“Do you not remember that guy? That smug, entitled, thieving piece of—”

“I remember,” she interrupted, voice firm. “But you’re acting like he’s the only person in the Institute.”

I crossed my arms, scowling. “He’s enough of a reason to avoid it entirely.”

Mom gave me a look.

Not annoyed.

Not frustrated.

Just calm.

And waiting.

Because she knew, deep down, I already understood.

If Chia wanted this—if she really wanted this—this was the best option.

And I’d have to deal with it.

I exhaled sharply.

“…Fine,” I muttered. “But there’s gotta be a way to do this without dealing with that guy.”

Mom’s expression softened.

“There is,” she said. “If Chia can find the materials and a fire beast, I’ll do the rest.”

I blinked.

“You’d do it for her?”

She smiled.

“I would.”

A rush of relief hit me.

That was more than I had hoped for.

Mom was an expert in beast transformations. She knew how this worked better than anyone.

If she was the one handling the process—

Chia had a real chance.

Excitement pumped through my veins.

“Alright,” I said, practically buzzing with energy. “That’s it, then. That’s what we’ll do.”

I turned—

And bolted out the door.

Chia’s house wasn’t far.

I covered the distance in record time.

By the time I arrived, I was grinning like an idiot, fully prepared to barge in and drop the best news of her life.

But when I saw her—

The words died in my throat.

She was sitting outside, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the ground.

And the moment I stepped closer—

I could feel it.

Something was wrong.

Her usual energy—her bright, fiery spirit—was gone.

Even when I called out—

“Hey, Chia!”

—she barely reacted.

She lifted her head, tried to smile—

But the moment I saw it, I knew.

It was fake.

Chia didn’t fake things.

Ever.

And seeing her do it now?

It hit me harder than I expected.

She opened her mouth to say something—probably to brush it off, to pretend she was fine—

But I didn’t let her.

I stepped forward.

Sat down beside her.

And just waited.

She glanced at me, startled—probably expecting me to just launch into some stupid joke or something.

But I didn’t.

Because right now—

This wasn’t about me.

It was about her.

And I wasn’t going anywhere.