Prologue: Chapter 0
The air inside the workshop was a blend of scorched metal, alcohol-based disinfectant, and burnt chemicals; it looked to be something between a battlefield medic's tent and a forge. The ceiling buzzed faintly from an overworked lamp dangling on thin wire, its dim glow flickering over worn tools and half-built weapons piled in haphazard towers around the cluttered room.
Vince leaned against the cool stone wall, arms folded, eyes lazily tracking the mess. His coat hung open, the dark, blue fabric dusted with dried mud and blood that was most likely his own, the smell of old gunpowder clinging to it. The left sleeve was torn near the shoulder, revealing pale, flawless skin underneath. His revolver rested on a nearby tray, disassembled, still glistening from his most recent cleanup.
Across the room, the door creaked open.
"Yo! J, how're you doing today, man?" Vince said with an easy smirk standing straight.
The man who entered was short, but well built man who looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Long, mint-green hair was tied up in a messy bun behind his head, strands dangling loosely over a face that straddled the line between beautiful and unhealthy. He had a soft jawline, almost feminine, offset by heavy bags under his sharp eyes and the permanent scowl carved into his features.
Julian; the only other Mage in their unit—and arguably the least stable member. He had a utility-based ability unlike most combat-focused Mages who applied for the Army in order to avoid legal trouble: he had the power to create, enchant, and alter weapons, armor, and tools, so long as you were the one to provide the raw materials, and it was within the boundaries of his personal code dubbed frankly "the shit makes sense."
"...Out with it already," Julian grumbled, shutting the door behind him with a sharp click. "What do you want, Vince?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Muttering curses under his breath, Julian marched across the room, kicking aside a stack of scrap metal. He wrenched open a drawer and immediately began flinging random items across the room—chunks of glowing ore, shards of crystal, and metal ingots clanged off the floor and walls with wild disregard to the living person frantically ducking and jumping in order to avoid injury.
Vince barely dodged a fist-sized hunk of darksteel that whistled past his face. "Do you ever not try to kill me when you're working?"
"Stop flinching. It's not like you'll die anyway," Julian snapped, half-focused, his eyes already scanning the shelves for more parts.
As his hands rifled through bins and baskets, his voice drifted in casually.
"I read your file a while back. There's almost nothing in it before you joined the Army. What's up with that?"
Vince's expression cooled. His smirk faded, replaced by a weary squint. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, chuckling solemnly before answering.
"I don't know," he said flatly.
Even with his back turned, Vince could tell Julian had raised a brow.
"Most Mages awaken their abilities in their teens, maybe early twenties. I assume I was the same… but I can't be sure. My memory before I enlisted is just... gone."
The workshop grew quieter. Julian's rummaging slowed, his movements becoming slightly stiff.
"I can't even tell how old I am," Vince added, voice low. "Due to the nature of my ability... I haven't aged physically at all in these five years. I could be twenty-eight... or two hundred and eight."
Julian paused, fingers resting on a gleaming silver ingot. He didn't speak for a moment.
"…Damn," he finally muttered. "That's either tragic... or kind of badass."
"It's both."
A grin twitched onto Julian's face, just for a second. He flicked a few more pieces of junk over his shoulder—one of which bounced off the wall and narrowly missed Vince again.
"Then I guess I'd better make you something worth living forever with."
Vince raised
a brow as Julian finally cleared a space on the main worktable and began placing his selected components down; he chose a black-steel alloy and sleek crimson wood, both generously purchased with Army resources. His palms started to glow with a faint teal light, veins in his forearms pulsing slightly as the resonance of his ability kicked in.
"Just don't make it explode this time, it hurts like hell to regrow an entire arm" Vince muttered.
"No promises."
A faint hum filled the room as Julian's hands moved delicately, his fingers moving across the table impossibly fast. Sparks danced around the room, vague shapes beginning to take form beneath the storm of light emanating from Julian's hands. The scent of burning wood and liquified metal began to fill the room.
And just for that moment, neither of them spoke.