Cane was tempted to walk down to the harbor, maybe put in some quiet work on the ship—but Selene's request echoed in his mind. Her students had benefited from watching him work, from seeing someone immerse completely into metal.
I guess I'll head to the forge.
He climbed the steps of Seven Tower, thoughts already spinning toward what he could accomplish. The adamantium Brammel had ordered from the capital wouldn't arrive until tomorrow, so making HAVs was off the table for now. He changed out of his robes into a sleeveless shirt, then stepped onto the transport rune and vanished.
Chimi flared the moment he arrived, the forge spirit's annoyance filling the chamber like a child's wail.
HUNGRY. HUNGRY.
Cane laughed. "Sorry. Let's get you something good."
He shoveled several scoops of coke into the forge, the flames leaping with glee. Then he pressed the blacksilver mask into place with a practiced motion, its runes humming against his skin.
"Maybe some starmetal work?"
He unlocked the hidden bin and carefully pulled out the heavy, iridescent chunk—barely larger than a person's head, but heavier than Sofie. Its presence made the forge flicker, as if space itself took a breath.
"No hammers today," he murmured. "Let's see what metallurgy alone can do."
He sat on the bench and gripped the stone with both hands, sinking his will into the element.
The forge faded. The world dissolved.
And Cane became the sun.
He felt himself burning—not with pain, but with purpose. Light spilled from him, shaping day and night on distant, unseen worlds. He added sound where there was none: the beat of a hammer, Sofie's laughter, waves tumbling up a beach. A single thread of music unfurled like a whisper and bloomed into a symphony.
Then it overwhelmed him—images rushing through his mind: galaxies being born, civilizations crumbling, creatures of myth rising from oceans of stars. He didn't just watch this time. He entered it. Wove himself into the fabric of memory. His body stretched across the heavens. His vision reached the end of time.
And then—he was Cane again.
Head resting on the bench, breath shallow, eyes glowing beneath closed lids. Slowly, he pulled his hands from the starmetal. A single fragment had broken free—no larger than a hair. But powerful. Ancient.
It was the same size as the one used in the metal ceremony.
Cane stared at it. The temptation was real.
What would the cost be?
"I'm sure these are my dreams," he whispered. "Then why do they feel like memories?"
He held the sliver for a heartbeat longer—then, with quiet resolve, pressed it into his palm.
Cane felt a tiny prick of pain, but nothing more. Like a splinter.
"Hm… Not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a bit more mystical?"
He closed his eyes. The metal was still inside him—he could feel it differently now, deeper. It had shifted, embedding itself into one of the bones in his lower arm. As he flexed and curled his fingers, the strangeness faded, replaced by a quiet, new awareness.
"Shit... Did I just waste my starmetal?"
His thoughts drifted—to the Defiant, training in the capital, Clara's blunderbuss mishap. Pulling out his sketchpad, Cane began sketching a new design for the Main Gun. Lighter. Longer range. More precise.
"Why does it drift off a thousand meters out? We're dead-on until eight hundred, but then—scatter. Two hundred meters is the difference between a warning shot and a kill."
"The shape's fine… but spin. If we could get a spin going…"
He frowned. "Grooves in the projectile? Nah… minimal impact. Inside the barrel?" His eyes widened slightly. "Spiraling grooves… that might work."
A gentle pulse buzzed behind his ear—the psi rune.
Cane ignored it.
When he wore the mask, his voice always came out deeper. Older.
Sophie:Interested in going for a walk?
Cane tucked the drawing into his ring's storage, pulled off the mask, and placed it gently on the shelf. Then he stepped onto the rune platform, vanishing in a shimmer of blue.
Cane:Sounds great! Sorry—I was working on something.
He changed his shirt and headed for the door.
Sophie:I'll meet you at the base of your dorm.
Descending the stairs two at a time, Cane stepped out into the warm evening. He scanned the walkway between Sun Tower and the dorms.
"Over here," Sophie called from behind him. "I stopped by the kitchens. Wanted to give Thressa a few tips."
"That's really sweet," Cane smiled. Her hair was down—soft and wind-tossed. It made her look a little older, in a good way.
She tilted her face up for a kiss, quick and easy, then reached for his hand. Fingers laced. "Am I pulling you away from something important?"
"Nothing that'll change the course of the war," Cane smirked. "At least… not yet."
They walked a bit in silence before Cane glanced at her. "Hey… How old are you?"
Sophie blinked. "We never traded birthdays, did we? Mine's easy—Jeres 1st. First day of summer."
"Atil 9th," Cane offered. "I turned nineteen just before I left Loramo."
"Really? I thought for sure you were a few years older." She gave his hand a little squeeze. "You carry yourself with confidence. Always been like that?"
"I was raised around adults. Only two other kids in the village, both younger. I guess that rubbed off."
"I grew up with Mira. That's why we're so close. A few kids our age, but mostly it was the two of us doing our own thing."
"No sweethearts?" Cane teased.
Sophie chuckled. "Had a crush on this boy named Kell for a while. He was older."
"Oh? What happened?"
"I saw him beat up a smaller kid. Not a fight—just cruelty. The kid was different, and Kell didn't like that. I can't tolerate that kind of person."
"That's it? No others?"
Her eyes twinkled. "There was this fella who chopped wood for me once…"
Cane laughed as they stepped out beyond the gates. "What's up with the town? Looks… brighter."
"While you were gone, they added more streetlights. Built a whole boardwalk that circles the town." She leaned closer, her voice quiet and sure.
"I've been waiting for you to come back so we could see it together."
The couple walked together, trading likes and experiences. Time passed pleasantly.
"The worst thing I did growing up?" Cane laughed. "I wouldn't even know where to start. My mum used to say I made enough waves for three boys."
"I'm not surprised," Sophie said, a smile tugging at her lips. "Come on—just one story."
They strolled along the freshly built boardwalk, shoes tapping softly against the planks. Overhead, the stars stretched wide and quiet across the sky.
"Well," Cane began, "my mum baked an apple pie once. Set it on the windowsill to cool."
"Oh no…" Sophie covered her eyes with a groan. "Did you eat it?"
Cane nodded. "Most of it."
"Did you get caught?"
"She chased me with a broom. I was so scared, I ran straight into the woods."
Sophie giggled. "You do look like a pie snatcher."
"Thank you," he said solemnly.
Sophie gave him a sideways glance. "And then?"
"Oh, I got lost—like really lost. Ran for hours. Went missing for three days. No food, just stream water."
Her smile faded. "Oh no…"
Cane nodded, remembering. "After wandering in circles, I finally hit the shoreline. From there, I knew the way home. When I walked through the door, Mum cried so hard she nearly crushed me with a hug."
"And then you got in trouble?"
He shook his head. "She made me another pie. Wouldn't let me out of her sight the rest of the summer."
Sophie laughed. "Your poor mum."
Cane smiled softly. "I was apprenticed the next year. Left for the highlands."
Sophie stopped. "Cane… your eyes are glowing."
"Yeah?" He grinned. "That's kinda sweet."
She shook her head, staring. "No. They're really glowing."