The Blade didn’t appear remarkable at first sight.

It was about the length of her body from chin to toe, and looked like a cylinder-shaped rod made of stone encrusted with patches of barnacles and long dead coral nubs.

Most people would have assumed that they had dragged a random but interestingly shaped rock from the ocean and stuck it with a bunch of other interestingly shaped artifacts.

But to the Arisen, it clearly signified a greater purpose.

For the Chosen in the room, it evoked an unfounded sense of discomfort, like feeling a ghost’s presence in the room but unable to see it.

For Leta, it practically vibrated with an aura of dangerous potential, like standing too close to a live wire. A strange buzzing humming grew louder as she stepped further and further into the Vault, as if the rock and sediment were barely able to contain the artifact’s power. So close, she noticed a slight wavering disorientation in the air around the Blade like a mirage in the desert or the cheesy holograms of her childhood.

Despite its aura of danger, Leta’s curiosity outweighed her fear. Perhaps because she was much less human now than a few days ago. It might have been nearly dying multiple times.

Either way, she found her head tilting to the side as De Mar ushered her into the Vault to examine the Blade, her blue eyes carefully studying it with the curiosity of a tiger examining a shark.

It was evident to her that someone, most likely De Mar, had removed a few coin-sized pieces of the hardened sediment to uncover dark silver metal underneath, but had not made significant progress in restoring the weapon.

“It’s a difficult process,” De Mar scratched at his chin, his body language suggesting he was having a hard time grappling with treating her like the college student she’d been when they’d first met and the mythical figure she was now, “Not because we fear damaging the Blade, mind you. We haven’t been able to find a material that can put a dent in it other than another Blade. The sediment encasing it has been exceptionally difficult to pry off, and we don’t have a Mason in the ranks who can remove it. The Istanbul Sect isn’t going to send their Mason just so someone can get a Blade. Until the sediment is removed, it’s useless as a weapon.”

Leta tore her eyes away from the Blade on the table, her expression questioning as she turned to him. “If you’ve been working on it for days, why hasn’t anyone claimed it?”

“Well,” His eyes darted to Mic, who was watching their exchange from afar with an unreadable expression, “Mic claimed the weapon for John after it was brought up, but the sediment has been hindering John’s ability to effectively tune with the weapon and claim it.”

Leta examined the many faces, noticing their interest what she was doing. “Which one is John?”

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“Tall fellow over my left shoulder.” De Mar said quietly without glancing in the man’s direction, “Built like he wrestles bears for fun.”

He stood out clearly, now that she knew who to search for.

John, as described, stood tall and weighed down with so much muscle she was concerned that if you threw him into a pool, he’d sink right to the bottom. He looked to be in his early thirties, with short brown hair on his head and a close-cut beard. That facial hair, the expression of annoyance, and the way he crossed his arms over his chest reminded her of a back street thug from the Industrial Era.

“What is he?”

“Miner.” De Mar answered quietly, “Miners have incredible strength and endurance, as well as dark vision, and can withstand extreme pressure. However, their biggest strength in a fight is an ability called Tremor Sense. They can detect the slightest variations in frequencies, which allows them to predict what an opponent is about to do before they’ve committed to an attack. They don’t have the ability to shape stone as if it were clay like a Mason, but they can cover parts of their skin in stone to withstand attacks.”

“And he wants the Blade?” Leta stated the question as if it were a known fact.

De Mar nodded. “He has been under Mic’s command for over a century. A Blade is a step up in the ranks as well as an increase to his power output - something that he’s been longing for quite a while.

She let out a breath through her nose, her lips pursing slightly as she turned back to the Blade.

Its vibrations seemed to have gotten lower since she had approached, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation.

‘You’re ready for a fight, aren’t you?’ she chuckled to herself. ‘Kind of silly question to ask a weapon.’

An odd pull toward this weapon gripped her, something she hadn’t encountered with Blades like Koa’s sword. She could only assume that it was because Koa had already claimed his weapon while this one was yet unspoken for, but it still seemed as if she and the hunk of stone in front of her were like two magnets being held apart, but all the two of them wanted to do was crash into each other.

Licking her lips, Leta reached out her hand.

De Mar made a noise to stop her from touching it, but she quickly soothed him, “It’s okay. I’m just getting a sense.”

The group of onlookers hushed their conversations as her palm hovered centimeters above the weapon, the slight mirage distortion around it wavering and wrapping around her fingers as if reaching back out to her.

[The Host has identified an Atlantian Protector-Commander Class Weapon. Scans indicate this weapon is not attuned to a Host system. Would the Host like to claim this weapon?]

Leta frowned. ‘I thought the Blades were impossible to take with all this sediment still on top of it?’

[This is partially true. Atlantian weapons were highly prized even during Atlantian occupation due to their ability to reform themselves into whatever shape or weapon their wielder desired, in addition to acting as a conduit for the wielder’s abilities. However, in an effort to prevent the temptation to revolt against their masters, the Atlantians engineered the weapons so that they would only be attuned with Atlantian assistance. The Arisen are able to attune the weapons to themselves, but only on the most basic level. In addition, this is a Commander grade weapon. These weapons when in full harmony with its master could morph into various forms based on their desires. As a Protector class weapon, an Atlantian can forge a mental bond with these blades, which Arisen are unable to do.]

‘Mental connection?’

[Atlantian weapons are made of Atlanite, and have such a high quantity of nanites that they possess a hive mind, though not as sophisticated as a System. These hive minds are able to adapt and adjust themselves to their master as well as record impressions, which can be stored and retrieved by the next wielder.]

‘Damn.’ Leta blinked in surprise. ‘No wonder this thing feels alive. It basically is.’