In the dimly lit workshop of the Death Tooth cult's stronghold, the air was alive with the clang of metal and the subtle hum of arcane energies. Mike, arms crossed, leaned against a cool stone wall, observing the bustling activity with a critical eye. Artisans and magicians bustled around, focused on the creation of a new sword meant to channel Mike's chaotic magical essence.

"So, you're actually piecing together a new Blue Dawn?" Mike asked, his voice heavy with skepticism as he eyed the components spread across the worktable.

Riko Tanaka, overseeing the assembly, shot him an impatient look. "It’s called Blue Dusk. And yes, based on your descriptions of Blue Dawn, we’re reconstructing it to harness the vast number of souls you've apparently collected. Still a mystery how you managed that."

"Just make sure it doesn’t fucking explode the first time I swing it," Mike quipped, half-joking but clearly concerned.

"We've designed it with that in mind," Riko assured him, pointing to the intricate markings on the blueprint. "These runes are not just for show. They're specifically tailored to manage and stabilize the soul energies without turning into a fucking fireworks display."

Mike ran a skeptical hand along the edge of the partially completed blade. "Let’s hope it doesn’t turn into a molten shit show like the last one. That thing went nuclear on the first swing."

"We’ve reinforced it with an alloy that can handle your... explosive personality," Riko quipped, her smirk widening as the workshop cleared out.

Mike chuckled, the tension easing a bit. "Just double-check that rune over there—it looks like the same damn mark that turned the last sword into a bomb."

"Where?" Riko leaned in, following Mike's finger, her eyes narrowing with focus. Together, they plunged into a detailed examination of the blueprint, their banter light as they worked late into the night.

As the last of the artisans filtered out, leaving the echo of their day's labor behind, Riko pulled out a bottle of aged whiskey from beneath the worktable. "I think we've earned this," she declared, pouring generous shots for both of them. The harsh workshop lights softened, casting long shadows over their workspace as the crowd thinned.

Clutching the newly forged Blue Dusk, Mike began swinging it, each motion slicing through the air with a satisfying hiss. The blade felt right—balanced yet demanding, as if challenging him to master it.

"We need to ramp up your magic training, Mike," Riko remarked sternly, raising her glass in a semi-toast as they continued to drink and Mike toyed with his sword. "Demons are getting craftier, targeting everything from AI to nukes. It’s like a full-blown orgy of chaos out there, and you're barely keeping it stiff."

Mike chuckled, the alcohol loosening his mood as he took another shot. "Yeah, I get it," he grumbled, running a hand through his increasingly purple hair. "Sophia was the brains; I mostly just nodded and followed whatever batshit advice Anna Sha whispered in my ear."

Their laughter grew as the bottle emptied, easing the tension. Just then, Altheack appeared in the doorway, overhearing Mike's last comment. She shook her head with a smile as she stepped into the thick atmosphere of booze and blade oil. "Sounds like you two are making the most of the workshop," she remarked, her tone teasing but friendly. "Being around animals and plants always boosted my magic," she continued, her voice filled with nostalgia. "It’s like they juiced up my magic naturally."

"That's something to dig into," Riko mused, eyeing Mike. "Maybe we need to throw you into a more organic training routine. Let those instincts run wild instead of boxing them in here."

Mike swayed slightly, considering her words. "Might as well. But I'm still trying to figure out why these demonic assholes are so hot for AI."

"They're targeting one of Uncle Sam’s secret toys—super advanced AI," Riko explained with a straight face. "These demonic dicks want to turn our biggest weapons against us."

"Fantastic, so Skynet’s a thing now?" Mike laughed, raising his glass again, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Pretty much," Riko replied, taking another swig and matching his sarcastic tone. "Which means we need to whip you into shape fast. It's time to harness those warrior instincts of yours."

Mike sighed heavily, the humor fading as he faced the reality of his responsibilities. "Great, tapping into the instincts of a guy who once sold his soul to a demon. No fucking pressure."

"That’s the spirit," Riko cheered, clinking her glass against Mike's. "Let’s see if we can turn you into a wizard who won’t bend over and drop his pants for the first demon that winks at him."

"Yeah, knowing you lot, you’d probably try to fuck a dead demon for power before it's even cold," Mike shot back, a grin spreading across his face as the whiskey warmed him. The crude jokes continued, each one loosening their inhibitions further.

Riko, a different shade of herself when tipsy, laughed heartily, her usual reserve melting away under the influence of the strong spirits. Altheack watched their laughter, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and mock exasperation. "You two are unbelievable," she commented, the smile on her lips softening her chiding tone.

Nursing hangovers the next day and a new respect for each other, they continued their training, exploring different methods to help Mike reconnect with his magic. Despite the lingering effects of the night before, the atmosphere was lighter, filled with a cautious optimism.

The days that followed were grueling, filled with spells that fizzled and mantras that mumbled into nothingness. Despite the frustrations, Mike and Altheack slowly began to trust Riko, if begrudgingly, recognizing her expertise and dedication to their training.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Finally, they got to sit down for a quiet dinner in the cult's mess hall. The clatter of cutlery and the hum of low conversations around them provided a comforting backdrop after days filled with intense focus and frustration. The familiar routine of the meal offered a brief respite, allowing them to momentarily set aside their challenges and reflect on their progress and setbacks. Their growing trust in Riko, coupled with their shared struggles, seemed to weave them closer together.

Mike, never one to pass up a hearty meal, attacked his steak with gusto, while Altheack picked at her salad, her movements sluggish. The topic of magic quickly resurfaced as Riko, sipping her drink, addressed Altheack directly. "I know you're frustrated with your limited progress, but your connection to magic is quite intriguing, especially considering the unique challenges you've faced here compared to Caldera."

Altheack sighed, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "I've been missing my pets terribly. I think it's the lack of natural connection here... Back home, my magic felt as natural as breathing." She paused, looking down at her barely touched salad. "Here, it feels like I'm constantly struggling to grasp it."

"They’re in good hands," Riko reassured her, pulling up a video on her tablet. The screen displayed Altheack's pets and plants thriving under careful supervision in a sunny room. "The vet taking care of them really knows his stuff, and the plants are flourishing. It's all being handled by professionals who understand the need for careful attention."

Mike, slicing into his steak with less enthusiasm than usual, interjected with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Sure would be nice if we could see them ourselves, not just through a screen," he said, underscoring their confinement within the compound.

"You are guests here, Mike, both of you, but your magics are... dangerous. I have a theory about Altheack's mana supply, but we need to combine our knowledge," Riko responded, encouraging them to share more about their experiences in Caldera.

"Gotta love playing magic warden over your prisoners," Mike remarked sarcastically, earning a stern look from Riko. He shot back, somewhat softened by the alcohol, "You're actually bearable when you've had a few drinks. Not such a bitch, you know?"

"What’s your theory?" Altheack interjected, genuinely curious and trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Riko shot Mike a sharp glance, her expression tightening. "There's a time and place for that, Mike. You don’t have to be a drunk to be bearable," she rebuked, then turned her focus back to Altheack. "Well, I've been considering your unique situation. It’s intriguing how you've managed to wield magic in a world like Earth, where natural mana is virtually non-existent except for souls, which as you know are harnessed by the power of necromancy. That's why Mike is having such a difficult time even with a nearly limitless supply."

Intrigued, Altheack leaned in, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. "What are you thinking?"

"I suspect," Riko began, her voice lowering as if unveiling a secret, "you might be unknowingly drawing life force from your surroundings. Necromancy on Earth isn’t limited to the resurrection of the dead; it often involves the subtle manipulation of life energies, so you have probably been draining the life from those around you since you first came to this world."

"Seriously?" Mike interjected, half-teasing, half-serious. "So, Altheack is the Green Reaper now? Covertly draining life to gain a form of mana?" Mike pondered this as some memories came to him. He remembered his own anchor to Caldera; it had been Valicar and his sister Sophia who had held his soul in place, allowing him to gain his own form of mana.

Altheack’s expression turned grave, her eyes widening with horror. "Is that really possible? Is me simply being on Earth killing those around me... my family, my pets, even my plants, and for what?" Her voice trembled as a devastating realization hit her. "My parents... they died so young, shortly after I finished high school. Could I have...?"

Mike squeezed her hand, his own expression softening in empathy. "It's likely the only thing keeping you here, Alth," he said gently. "Without it, your soul would return to Caldera, just like mine did to Earth without an anchor or power supply." Mike admitted as the memories became clearer.

Tears welled up in Altheack's eyes as the weight of her unintended consequences became apparent. She whispered, almost to herself, "I never meant to hurt anyone..."

"It's just a theory," Riko clarified softly, trying to offer some comfort. "But if it's true, it's certainly not deliberate. Your magic may have simply adapted to the constraints of Earth's environment."

"That explains a lot," Altheack acknowledged, wiping away tears. "On Caldera, magic is omnipresent, akin to the air we breathe. Here, I struggle to tap into even a fraction of that power."

Empathizing, Mike added, "I can relate. Magic used to flow through me effortlessly. Now, it's like being cut off by a choke point, even if there is an ocean on the other side, I have to suck the mana through with a straw."

"Exactly," Riko elaborated, "Your experiences underscore how differently magic operates here. Earth's magical fabric is thinner, making traditional spellcasting less effective and more taxing, but as these demons continue to come through, that could change."

Reflecting on her own challenges, Altheack noted, "The minor spells I manage to conjure are barely powered by the ambient life here—it's all I can draw from. But what I don't understand is how I'm using necromancy. I never learned."

"That is probably Sophia's fault when she sent you here," Mike contributed, a pensive look crossing his face. "She was a dragon, after all. I'm sure her spell left a mark on your soul."

Riko, her voice tinged with both urgency and caution, addressed the weight of the revelations they'd discussed. "That's why it's critical we understand the full extent of your powers before the next wave arrives. We need to grasp these dynamics fully to avoid unintended consequences. And if it was indeed Sophia who altered your soul to become parasitic, perhaps a master necromancer could remedy it."

Mike, absorbing the heavy implications, lifted his glass with a rueful smile. "Well, solving my sister’s problems seems to be a lifelong gig. Guess I'll just have to master necromancy and sort this out too, huh?" His attempt at humor was tinged with sincerity, aiming to lighten the heavy mood for Altheack's sake.

Altheack, touched by the gesture, grasped his hand firmly. "I’ll hold you to that promise, Mike," she responded, a trace of hope flickering in her voice.

Their glasses clinked, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the mess hall. As the resonance faded into a contemplative silence, Riko leaned forward, her expression lined with seriousness. "There’s another piece of your past that might help, especially if you really knew Zaltheral. There’s a place I need to take you tomorrow, Mike. It might unlock more memories and shed light on things we need to understand."

Mike's eyebrow arched, curiosity piqued by the mention of his enigmatic past. "And where’s that?" he asked cautiously, the intrigue about his previous life sparking a mix of apprehension and determination.

Riko paused, measuring the impact of her next words. "It's the apartment where you and your sister had your last moments on Earth. Visiting there might trigger some memories, help us all to understand more about what you’re capable of and the depths of the magic bound within you."

The revelation hung heavy in the air, laden with potential and peril. Mike and Altheack exchanged a glance, their expressions a blend of astonishment and resolve, as they considered the significance of revisiting such a pivotal site in Mike's obscured history.