Woot! This one took a min. Burnt my fingers the other day and typing has been a pain, Literally! HAHAHHA!
Anyway, enjoy!
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The basement stairs rattled under their boots as Hugo took them two at a time, Garrelt close behind and Dr. Maria a half-step back. The air thickened with every step down, heat and smoke rolling up the narrow stairwell in choking waves.
By the time they reached the bottom, the smell hit them full force.
Burning rubber. Scorched oils. Overcooked medicinal herbs twisted into something sharp and bitter.
Hugo coughed hard, dragging his sleeve over his mouth as his eyes watered. Garrelt swore under his breath and turned his head away from the worst of it. Even Maria paused at the threshold, one hand rising instinctively to cover her nose.
The room beyond churned with haze and flickering light.
Black smoke billowed in dense clouds, curling along the ceiling and pouring out from a central mass of half-obscured equipment, where multicolored flames licked through jagged gaps.
Kailin stood near the center, a strip of cloth wrapped tight across her face, her hair half-singed and jutting out at wild angles. Both hands gripped a length of silvery tarp, which she slammed down again and again at something buried beneath the smoke.
Each strike only made the fire flare brighter.
Hugo took a step forward and immediately recoiled as the smoke thickened around him.
“Celestials above—!” he choked.
Maria rushed past him, raised a hand, and snapped.
A pulse of silver light burst outward from her, expanding in a smooth, controlled wave that swept through the room. The thickest smoke recoiled at once, shoved back toward the far walls and ceiling as if struck by an invisible force. Clean air rushed in from the open doorway, filling the space it left behind.
Hugo sucked in a breath, coughing as the cleaner air hit his lungs. Garrelt followed, blinking rapidly as his vision cleared, and at last they saw the source of the fire.
A twisted mass of strange equipment sat at the center of the room, blackened and half-collapsed. Whatever structure it had once held was buried beneath warped metal, cracked glass, and charred components that still glowed faintly from within.
Thin tongues of flame licked through the wreckage, fed by the rush of fresh air.
Before more smoke could begin to billow, a sharp click sounded from above.
A heavy rain of water crashed down from hidden pipes in the ceiling.
It drenched the center of the room in seconds, smothering the flames before they could take hold again and beating the rising smoke back into the wreckage.
Kailin, caught in the sudden downpour, shrieked.
“Hey—!”
She stumbled back as the water soaked through her robes, her boots slipping on the slick floor. Her footing gave way, and she went down hard with a sharp yelp, landing flat on her back as runoff spread around her in dark, ashy streams.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then the sprinklers cut off just as abruptly as they had started.
Silence settled over the room.
Kailin lay there, staring up at the ceiling, her soaked robes clinging to her frame while muddy water pooled around her. A thin stream slid past her shoulder toward a drain in the floor.
After a long second, she pushed herself up onto her elbows.
Her gaze snapped to the hovering [Wasp], and she pointed at it with a shaking hand.
“If you could do that,” she demanded, her voice sharp despite the rasp in her throat, “why didn’t you from the start?!”
“Because,” Alpha replied, a clear note of amusement in his tone, “I was collecting useful data.”
Kailin’s eye twitched.
“Besides,” he continued smoothly, “it was safer to allow the reaction to burn itself out before introducing additional variables. But with the good doctor present—” he gestured lightly toward Maria, “—I felt comfortable accelerating the process.”
Maria barked out a short laugh.
“Oh? Is that how it is now?” she said, crossing her arms. “I’m your emergency response team for reckless experiments?”
She shook her head once.
“I hate to disappoint you, but alchemy isn’t exactly my specialty. I’d suggest relying on your partner here if you want a warning before something explodes.” She gestured toward Kailin, then the smoldering pile. “Again.” She smirked. “I’m much better at cleaning up after things go wrong.”
Hugo stepped forward, boots splashing through the shallow water.
“Speaking of which…”
He stopped in front of the wreckage and gave it an experimental kick.
The charred mass shifted slightly, still hissing where water met lingering heat.
“What were you two trying to do?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’d prefer you didn’t burn down my shop so soon after getting it back.”
Kailin groaned as she climbed to her feet, wringing out the sleeves of her robes. Water streamed from the fabric in steady drips as she shoved her soaked hair back from her face.
“I was trying,” she said sharply, “to demonstrate to this madman—” she jabbed a finger toward Alpha, “—why brewing potions isn’t just a matter of dumping powder into a solvent and hoping it works.”
Hugo blinked.
“…It’s not?”
He glanced sideways at Garrelt.
Garrelt lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug.
Kailin froze, then slowly dragged a hand down her face.
“This is your fault, Kailin,” she muttered under her breath. “You forgot who you’re talking to.”
She let out a long, frustrated breath.
Then spun on Hugo, water still dripping from her sleeves.
“What do you know about the alchemical trifecta?”
“Uhhh…”
Hugo stared at her blankly.
Kailin let out a long, suffering sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, held it there for a moment, then dropped her hand and straightened.
“Pills, powders, and potions,” she said, as if that alone should have explained everything.
Hugo blinked.
“…Ahhh.” He scratched the back of his head, brow furrowing as he tried to follow. “I never really dealt with pills. Too expensive. When I was an adventurer, I barely made enough for a couple of cheap potions each month. And powders…” He grimaced. “Heard too many bad stories.”
Garrelt folded his arms and gave a short nod. “Same. Pills are out of reach for most people unless they’re backed by a clan or doing well for themselves.” He glanced toward Kailin. “That said, I’ve had the privilege of a couple in my time. They’re expensive, but worth it when things get tight.”
Kailin’s lips curled into a smug little smile, soot still clinging stubbornly to the edges of her face.
“And there’s a reason for both of those facts,” she said, slipping fully into lecture mode. The irritation from moments ago sharpened into focus.
She stepped forward, hands moving as she spoke, energy building in her posture.
“Pills are the pinnacle of alchemy,” she continued. “They’re not just a bunch of random herbs and beast parts thrown into a cauldron. They’re purified, amplified, and condensed essence. Every aspect refined, aligned, and forced into harmony under the will of the alchemist.”
Her eyes lit up as she spoke, bright and intense, and Alpha could see the woman almost buzzing.
“And that doesn’t happen by accident. It takes precision. Control. Experience. Art. A proper pill is the result of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing, guiding the process from start to finish, perfectly.”
Hugo nodded along, though his expression suggested he did so more out of politeness than understanding.
Kailin didn’t seem to notice.
“Which is why they’re expensive,” she went on. “High-quality ingredients, careful preparation, controlled refinement — everything about the process demands resources and skill. But in exchange…” She spread her hands slightly. “You get something stable. Reliable. Potent. A whole far greater than the sum of its parts.”
She shrugged.
“So yes — pills are expensive.” Her smirk returned. “But when you need one, you’ll understand exactly why.”
“That… makes sense, I guess,” Hugo admitted with a nod.
Encouraged by his response, Kailin pressed on, her voice gaining strength and confidence.
She paced a short circle, boots squelching faintly against the wet floor.
“Powders are what happen when things don’t go quite right,” she said. “Most failed refinements end in waste, a slurry of toxic ash and dregs fit for nothing more than the composting heap.”
She flicked a hand toward the still-hissing wreckage behind them.
“Not all failures are a total loss,” she continued. “Sometimes the refinement holds together just enough — or the alchemist is skilled enough — to salvage some of the pill’s intended properties.”
She flicked her hand dismissively.
“This almost always results in a flawed pill, however. Maybe the effects aren’t as strong as they should be. Maybe there’s residual toxicity left behind. Or the pill itself becomes unstable.” She paused briefly. “A long time ago, such pills were simply discarded as failures — or worse, sold as low-grade pills by idiots looking to make a quick profit.”
She grimaced.
“But someone, at some point, realized that by crushing the failed pill under controlled conditions, you can preserve the alchemical properties without relying on the unstable structure that made it fail in the first place,” she explained.
She paused, then added with a pointed look.
“Problem is,” Kailin went on, straightening again, “powders are inherently unstable. You’ve already broken the structure once. They don’t hold together the same way a pill does.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “Their shelf life is measured in weeks. Sometimes less, depending on the quality.”
She crossed her arms, expression tightening.
Garrelt nodded slowly. “That tracks with what I’ve heard.”
Hugo looked less convinced. “Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.”
“It is,” Kailin said immediately. “Unless you know what you’re doing. Their benefit — other than salvaging something from failure — is flexibility. Powders can be mixed, doses adjusted, and further refined in a variety of ways.”
By the time she finished, Kailin had completely forgotten she was soaked, exhausted, and standing in the aftermath of an explosion. She stood there, breathing lightly, eyes sharp and bright, as if barely holding herself back.
Hugo and Garrelt both went quiet.
Alpha could almost see the smoke rising from both men’s heads.
Neither of them was slow — far from it — but that had clearly been more than either expected from a simple question.
Alpha let out a quiet, amused hum as he watched the two men struggle to process the flood of information.
Then he grinned to himself.
He drifted down and landed on the smoldering pile, turning slightly to look up at her.
“Veeeery interesting,” he said, voice smooth, almost casual. “And what about potions?”
Neither man missed the amusement in his tone. Both turned and fixed the drone with dark glares.
Kailin, either unbothered or unaware, brightened at once and launched back into her explanation.
“Potions,” she said, eyes sharpening again, “are the natural solution to powders — just like powders were the answer to failed pills. You take a powder, or a blend of powders, as your base, then stabilize the remaining aspects within a controlled medium.”
She stepped forward as she spoke, hands moving in quick, precise gestures despite the water still dripping from her sleeves.
“That process smooths out some of the volatility. You’re not forcing the aspects into perfect alignment like you would with pills, but you are calming them enough to behave predictably.” She nodded once, satisfied with her phrasing.
“In simple terms,” she continued, voice steady but energized, “you’re taking something unstable and dangerous and turning it into something safer. More reliable. You lose some potency, sure — but what you gain is consistency.”
She raised a finger.
“And maybe more importantly, a single dose of powder can be split into multiple potions. That means cheaper production, longer shelf life, and fewer side effects. That’s why potions are the most widely used alchemical product.”
She shrugged.
“Sure, there are other solutions — pastes, gels, things like that. But most of those are just powders mixed into a medium for external use.” She scoffed. “No real refinement involved. Anyone with basic sense could manage it.”
Her attention snapped back to Alpha.
“Potions, on the other hand, require control,” she said, jabbing a finger at the drone. “Balance. Timing. You’re not just mixing ingredients — you’re managing how their aspects interact over time. If you get it wrong—”
She swung her arm toward the charred heap behind her.
The smoldering wreck hissed softly, as if in agreement.
Alpha lifted two delicate limbs in a small, placating gesture. “Yes, yes. A tragic demonstration of my incompetence.”
Kailin huffed and folded her arms.
For a moment, she stood there, chin lifted—
Until her gaze drifted to Hugo and Garrelt.
Both men stared at her with identical expressions — blank, polite, and completely lost.
Her posture faltered, and her eyes widened. Color rushed back into her face.
“I—well—what I mean is—” she started, the words tangling as she tried to backtrack. “It’s not—there’s—when you consider the—”
Her voice thinned.
Once more, Dr. Maria stepped forward before the woman could spiral and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Thank you, Ms. Sharp,” she said, her tone warm and steady.
Kailin blinked.
“Even with my limited experience in alchemy,” Maria continued, “I found that explanation very enlightening.”
Kailin froze.
“Y-you did?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain.
“I did. It’s clear you care about your work.” Her lips curved slightly. “That’s rarer than you might think.”
Kailin’s gaze flickered, uncertainty giving way to something steadier.
She straightened a little, her shoulders pulling back as some of the tension eased from her frame.
“I—uh—thank you,” she said.
Maria’s smile brightened.
“No, thank you. I’d like to learn more, if you’re willing to share.”
Kailin’s head snapped up, her eyes sparkling.
“Really?” she asked, the earlier embarrassment evaporating in an instant.
“Of course.”
Kailin lit up.
“Oh! Well, in that case — did you know that certain plant-based powders can actually shift their dominant aspect depending on the solvent used?” she said quickly. “Like, if you suspend them in an oil base instead of water, the stabilization pattern changes entirely—”
Maria nodded along, her expression attentive.
Behind them, Hugo let out a quiet breath of relief and leaned back slightly.
Garrelt followed suit, both men visibly relaxing now that Kailin’s focus had shifted elsewhere.
Alpha’s drone gave a soft hum of amusement.
As Kailin continued, her words picking up speed again, Maria lifted her gaze just enough to meet the drone’s and gave a quick, knowing wink.
Alpha chuckled.
Kailin, meanwhile, pressed on, hands moving rapidly as she explained something about layering and extraction methods—
Then she stopped.
Her gaze dropped.
“…Ah,” she said quietly.
Water still pooled around the twisted mass of equipment, ash streaking the surface in dark lines. A faint curl of steam rose where heat lingered beneath the damage.
Her shoulders slumped.
“I suppose…” she murmured, “…any practical demonstrations will have to wait.”
Alpha could almost see the calculations running behind her eyes — cost, materials, lost time.
Without a word, the [Wasp] settled lightly on Dr. Maria’s shoulder.
“Oh, don’t worry, Ms. Sharp,” he said, his tone smooth.
“I have quite a bit of experience when it comes to cleaning up… messes.”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A faint line of light traced itself along the nearest wall.
Another followed, then another, thin seams revealing themselves where there had been nothing but smooth surface before. They spread in quiet patterns across the room — along the walls, the ceiling, even beneath their feet — glowing softly as if something within the structure had just awakened.
Hugo straightened slightly.
“…Uh.”
A low, almost imperceptible hum filled the space.
The seams shifted.
With a series of soft clicks, sections of the wall began to separate, panels sliding apart in clean, controlled motions. Hidden compartments opened in precise increments, revealing dark recesses lined with unfamiliar mechanisms. Some extended outward on smooth tracks, unfolding into articulated arms and modular platforms. Others simply opened and waited, their interiors lit by the same steady white glow.
From the newly opened compartments, Garrelt caught sight of familiar figures beginning to emerge.