Aviva wiped the sweat from her brow, smearing soot across her forehead as she surveyed the chaotic sprawl of her workbench. Gears, etched rune plates, mana crystals, and half-assembled constructs lay in haphazard piles, the remnants of a dozen failed experiments. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt metal and residual mana discharge, a tangible testament to the struggles of mastering her new class. Becoming a Rune Machinist had seemed like the perfect fusion of magic and engineering, but the reality of its intricacies was proving far more arduous than she had anticipated.
She traced a finger along the grooves of a rune-carved gear, watching with keen eyes as faint veins of blue mana flickered uncertainly within its etchings. The theory was elegant—by blending traditional smithing with precision rune inscription, she could create weapons and armor infused with dynamic enchantments. The issue lay in execution: one mistake in carving a rune and the mana either fizzled out ineffectively or, worse, detonated in a volatile burst. The scorched holes in her gloves and the fresh burn mark on the edge of her sleeve were proof enough of that.
Leaning back with a frustrated sigh, Aviva flexed her stiff fingers, rolling out the tension from hours of delicate work. She hadn’t heard from Pag in days—no messages, no party notifications, no sign of him anywhere in the system logs. Wherever he was, she could only hope he was safe. That uncertainty gnawed at her, compelling her to work even harder. Regardless of what class he had now, he would need equipment tailored to adaptability, something that would serve him well no matter what path he walked.
Her gaze settled on her current project: a modular bracer, designed to shift between offensive and defensive modes based on the mana circuit infused into its core. She picked up her engraving tool, its tip glowing faintly as it pulsed with residual heat. With steady, controlled movements, she began etching the next set of runes into the tempered steel, whispering the incantations under her breath as she carved. Stability glyphs interwove seamlessly with amplification sigils, the fusion an ambitious attempt at balancing power and sustainability without overwhelming the user with backlash.
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As she pressed the final rune into the metal, a chime echoed softly in her periphery.
Aviva’s lips curled into a triumphant grin. Progress. Small, but undeniable. The bracer hummed as she activated its core, the inscribed runes flaring to life. The mana conduits pulsed, shifting through a gradient of blue before settling into a stable orange glow—defensive mode engaged. She exhaled in relief. It worked.
A new chime suddenly resonated through the air, deeper and more resonant than before. A notification flickered in her vision, different from the usual system messages.
Aviva’s breath caught. A rare skill? She had expected steady progression, but this was unprecedented. Her fingers hovered over the bracer as she accessed the skill description.
Her mind whirled with possibilities. If she could control the flow of mana within her gear on the fly, she wouldn’t need to painstakingly reforge pieces every time a minor flaw surfaced. More than that—she could create truly adaptable equipment, gear that could shift between roles mid-combat. Defensive armor could become an offensive weapon. An energy barrier could transform into a powerful strike.
She clenched her fists, excitement thrumming through her veins. This was more than just a step forward—this was a revolution in how Rune Machinists functioned. With enough refinement, she could create something truly unparalleled.
Her thoughts drifted back to Pag. If he was struggling, if he was in trouble, then he would need more than just weapons or armor. He would need something that could change the tide of battle.
Determination hardened in her chest. She needed to test this new ability, refine it, push its limits. The real work had just begun.
Her gaze flicked toward the heavy wooden door of the workshop, beyond which lay the wilds of Ludere Online. She had spent enough time theory-crafting and tinkering; it was time to see if her creations—and her newfound power—could withstand the unpredictable chaos of real combat. If Pag was out there somewhere, she would find him. And when she did, she would be ready—with weapons, armor, and the means to ensure they survived whatever this world threw their way.