This one took longer to edit than I was expecting, but here's the third chapter for the week! ♛———♛—————————♛———♛
Kailin barely slowed as they stepped into the lab.
She broke from the group, darting ahead with a sharp breath as her eyes locked onto the nearest workbench. Her hands were reaching for polished surfaces before she’d even come to a stop, tapping glassware, nudging lenses, and flipping switches.
“Oh—this is—no, that’s not even—what is that stabilization lattice?!” she muttered, already shifting toward the next station.
She crossed the space in a few quick steps and leaned over a nested burner assembly, peering into the layered chambers beneath it. “What kind of containment array is this? With a triple-phase separator? Who even needs that kind of throughput in a single unit—” Her hand snapped up, tracing the edge of the housing without quite touching it.
She spun again.
A rack of instruments caught her attention, and she rushed toward it, nearly colliding with a suspended armature before ducking under it at the last second.
“Aspect filtration columns—multiple—no, these are adjustable—how are these adjustable?” she muttered, already twisting a dial. The internal channels shifted with a faint hum. “You could isolate secondary expressions mid-process with this. That’s—why would anyone ever—”
She stopped again, hands hovering over a compact, unfamiliar device embedded in the bench.
“…What even is all of this?” she whispered.
Her fingers twitched, and she paused, taking in the entire lab with a sweeping gaze.
Glass flasks. Array-marked plates. A sealed chamber etched with layered inscriptions she only half recognized. Each new station pulled at her for a heartbeat before she tore herself away, drawn onward to the next discovery.
Her hands lowered, and her brow furrowed.
She turned, eyes narrowing as she looked back toward the hovering [Wasp].
“…Mr. Alpha,” she said slowly, “I thought you said you didn’t have any experience with alchemy?”
She gestured around the room with a sharp flick of her wrist.
“A lot of this is highly specialized,” she said, her voice tightening as she tried to process what she was seeing. “A few of these pieces I’ve only ever heard about in papers. And some of it…” She trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t even recognize at all.” Her gaze sharpened. “How did you know to prepare any of this?”
Alpha smirked.
“I don’t,” he replied. “Not beyond some vague, half-formed concepts I’ve been able to ‘extract’ from bandits who likely qualify more as hobby chefs than as alchemists.”
The drone drifted slightly, angling toward one of the larger stations.
“Some of this,” he continued, gesturing with a delicate limb, “is equipment used by my people for our own forms of analysis and synthesis. You’ll learn how to operate it over the coming weeks.”
He shifted again, indicating a row of more familiar setups — burners, array-marked stands, and containment rigs that followed more traditional alchemical designs, even if their construction was cleaner and more refined.
“The rest,” he went on, “I lifted wholesale from other labs during my investigation.”
He paused, his tone turning almost thoughtful.
“I’ll freely admit I don’t know what most of it does,” he said. “But I’ve been able to form a rough understanding based on the arrays engraved into many of them. Enough to make a few… improvements.” A faint hum of amusement followed. “I’m eager to observe how they’re actually meant to be used.”
Kailin blinked.
Then she tilted her head.
“Other labs?” she repeated.
The [Wasp] gave a small, matter-of-fact nod.
“I mentioned I’ve been looking for a free alchemist for some time now,” Alpha replied. “What better way to evaluate someone’s skill than to watch them work?”
Kailin froze, and her eyes widened.
“Have you been spying on other alchemists in their labs?!” she demanded.
The drone tilted its head.
“Of course I have,” Alpha said, as if the answer were obvious. “Are you going to tell me other alchemists wouldn’t do the same?”
For a moment, Kailin opened her mouth—
Then closed it, fixing the drone with a hard stare. Her hand, lifted halfway, dropped again as she struggled to frame the answer.
“No! — I mean, well, yes,” she said, exasperation breaking through as she threw her hands into the air. “But that’s kind of my point!”
She spun in a tight circle, gesturing at the surrounding space.
“An alchemist’s lab is supposed to be their most fortified sanctuary,” she continued. “Not just to prevent accidents, but to preserve their secrets.”
Alpha chuckled, softer this time.
“Some of them were rather hard nuts to crack,” he said. “But lucky for me, most of those defenses are designed to prevent spiritual intrusion.” The drone bobbed once, almost lazily. “I’ve found most of the physical security in this city rather… lacking.”
Garrelt, who had been watching the exchange with quiet interest, lifted a hand to his chin.
“I’m curious,” he said. “If you’ve got eyes on so many alchemists, why were you so insistent on hiring one?”
Kailin flinched, her posture shifting just enough for Alpha to note she was likely asking herself the same question.
Alpha turned toward Garrelt.
“Let me answer your question with one of my own,” he said.
The drone angled slightly, gesturing toward Dr. Maria.
“Assume you were to follow our good doctor here through her daily work,” Alpha continued. “Observing everything she did. Recording every action, every result. With full access to all of her notes and tools.”
He paused.
“But,” he added lightly, “you couldn’t ask any questions, and you had no context for what you were seeing.”
The drone tilted its head.
“How much would you really learn?” he asked. “How long would it take before you felt comfortable healing someone? Or how long until you could say you truly understood what you were doing?”
Dr. Maria, who had been examining one of the machines, turned and fixed Garrelt with a smirk, as if daring him to lowball his answer.
Garrelt’s eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the question.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“I see…”
Alpha returned the nod.
“I asked Ms. Sharp to join our merry little band for the same reason I asked you,” he said. “Yes, I could eventually stumble my way through learning the art myself, but without her expertise, it would take far more time — time I would rather spend on… other goals.”
Dr. Maria’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Such as?”
“Acquisitions, of course,” Alpha replied, cheerfully smug.
Maria stared at the [Wasp] for a long beat.
“That’s a non-answer.”
“Yup!”
Maria exhaled and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Uhhhh…”
Kailin stiffened, a faint flush creeping beneath the soot still clinging to her cheeks as every eye in the room turned to her.
“I… don’t really understand everything you’re talking about,” she admitted, her voice stumbling slightly before she caught herself. “But if you actually want to learn alchemy, then we’ve still got a major problem.”
Alpha’s drone tilted toward her. “Oh?”
Kailin gestured at the lab, the motion gaining confidence as she spoke.
“This is incredible and all… Some of these tools are better than anything I’ve ever worked with.” Her gaze drifted back to the filtration columns, lingering there for a heartbeat. “But I don’t see a pill furnace anywhere.”
Alpha chuckled softly.
“Oh, that’s not an issue,” he said. “You’re standing next to it.”
Kailin blinked.
She turned slowly, eyes sweeping the lab again. This time, she moved with care, cataloging each station in deliberate sequence — burners, separators, filtration columns, unfamiliar constructs humming quietly under the lights.
But saw nothing resembling a proper furnace.
Only when her gaze flicked past the large white island at the center of the lab did she pause.
She had dismissed it earlier as a work surface — an oversized slab, centrally placed and strangely bare compared to everything else.
She stepped closer and circled it once, then again. Up close, it looked like nothing more than a block of smooth marble. A stable surface, certainly — something important in work as delicate as alchemy — but she couldn’t see how it could possibly be a pill furnace, not like Alpha claimed.
Could it be inside?
She ran her hands along the sides, searching for seams, drawers, hidden compartments, anything she might have missed on her first pass.
Nothing.
Kailin turned toward Alpha and gave him a doubtful look. Then, gingerly, she reached out and touched the surface.
Light flared beneath her fingers.
She yelped and snatched her hand back as the white slab came alive. Lines of pale blue and silver raced outward in clean, geometric paths, spreading across the surface until they reached every edge. Panels of crisp, scrolling text snapped into place above it, hanging in the air as if anchored to nothing.
Diagrams unfolded beside them. Rotating schematics. Chamber layouts. Pressure curves. Temperature bands. Energy flow models. All alongside lists of other terms she didn’t recognize.
Kailin took several stumbling steps back, her eyes wide.
“What — what is this?” she asked, her voice dropping despite herself.
“Why, it’s your new pill furnace, Ms. Sharp,” Alpha replied, sounding entirely too pleased.
Kailin’s eyes darted across the floating readouts.
“This doesn’t look anything like a pill furnace.”
“I would certainly hope not.”
The [Wasp] lifted from the construct’s shoulder and settled atop the white surface. The shifting lights bent subtly around him, as if making room.
“After carefully observing dozens of these things across just as many labs,” he continued, “I’ve come to one very clear conclusion.” A faint pause. “Alchemists are no less prone to grandstanding and unnecessary embellishment than their more martial cousins.”
Kailin’s eyes narrowed.
“To put it another way,” Alpha went on, “you seem very fond of dressing up what amounts to a very fancy cooking pot.”
Kailin’s glare snapped toward him. “That is an absurd oversimplification.”
“Is it?”
“Yes!”
Alpha’s optic pulsed faintly. “Then tell me — what are the primary functions of a pill furnace?”
Kailin frowned, the answer rising at once.
“To contain ingredients, channel spirit energy, and allow the alchemist to observe and guide the reaction,” she said. It was one of the first principles any apprentice learned.
A pill furnace, first and foremost, was the alchemist’s primary tool. All the fancy equipment around them was only there to supplement and support it. Even without a formal teacher, every text she had studied emphasised the importance of that lesson.
“Good,” Alpha said. “And why are there different types of furnaces? Why not settle on a single optimized design?”
Kailin folded her arms, eyes fixed on him.
“Because different refinements require different variables — and because they offer different advantages. Larger reaction chambers. Better conductivity. Stabilizing arrays. Heat regulation. Spirit-flow shaping. Containment depth. Some furnaces are better for volatile reagents. Others are better for delicate aspect alignment.”
Her voice sharpened as she went on.
“A good furnace can be the difference between a proper pill and a powder.”
“Mm.” Alpha gave a soft hum.
“Then,” he continued with the hint of a smirk, “if something could meet all three of those core requirements — containment, energy control, and observation — you could technically use it as a furnace, correct?”
Kailin opened her mouth to respond, but froze, her brow furrowing as the words caught in her throat.
That was the problem. Alpha wasn’t… technically wrong.
There were stories — old ones — of alchemists working with whatever tools they had on hand. The earliest texts even claimed the first pills had been refined in massive cauldrons, guided by nothing more than crude implements, raw skill, and stubborn will.
She knew all of that.
Still, something in her chest tightened at the thought of reducing her craft to something so… blunt.
So she folded her arms instead, lifting her chin as she fixed the hovering drone with a flat stare.
“And where exactly,” she asked, her voice tightening, “are you supposed to put the materials in this ‘pill furnace’?”
Alpha only tilted his head.
“Heh.”
Kailin’s eye twitched.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?”
Before she could fire back, the surface beneath him flared. A circle of pale light traced itself across the center of the table, and a soft hiss followed.
A cylinder, nearly a meter wide, rose smoothly from within the slab, its surface the same matte white as the table. It continued upward until it stood just above Kailin’s head, then locked into place with a quiet click.
A moment later, faint light rippled across its surface. Symbols resolved into view at eye level.
Symbols Kailin realized she recognized as universal markers for the various material states.
Her eyes narrowed.
Slowly, she reached out and brushed the symbol associated with dry, powdered materials.
A soft chime rang out. The icon shifted from neutral white to a steady green—
Click.
— and a small compartment slid outward beneath the symbol, stopping just short of her hand.
Kailin blinked.
Then she reached up again, more certain this time, and tapped the icon for caustic liquids.
The first compartment slid smoothly back into place before the cylinder twisted in response. A seam appeared where there had been none before, and a narrow shelf extended outward, presenting a small glass beaker fitted with a sealed lid.
Kailin’s eyes widened, even as her fingers twitched, and she reached for the next symbol.
And the next.
And the next.
Compartments opened and closed in sequence. Containers shifted and reformed. She began simply, testing each option as it appeared, but it didn’t take long to realize the system wasn’t nearly so limited. Basic material classifications layered into more specific configurations. Volumes adjusted down to the microliter. With a few more inputs, she found she could even specify certain environmental holding parameters, such as pressure or temperature.
Her fingers moved across the interface, selecting, adjusting, combining.
The interface responded to everything, adapting without hesitation as she pushed into increasingly specific — and occasionally esoteric — parameters.
For a few moments, the rest of the room ceased to exist as her smile grew wider with each experiment.
Then Alpha let out a quiet chuckle.
“I assume this means you like it?”
Kailin spun toward him, eyes wide and bright.
“Like it?!” she shot back, jabbing a hand toward the cylinder.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve made?!”
Her voice rose as she spoke, energy bleeding into every word.
“One of the most difficult parts of alchemy isn’t refining — it’s control,” she said.
She stepped closer to the cylinder again, staring at it with a fevered intensity that might have been unsettling if it weren’t so focused.
“Unless you’re one of the rare monsters who can isolate materials through pure spiritual control,” she continued, “everyone hits the same wall. You either invest in specialized furnaces built for specific ingredient types, or you narrow your focus — specialize in a limited range of pills and materials you can actually manage at a high level.”
Her voice dipped, quieter now, though the intensity held.
“If this thing can actually do what it’s claiming…”
She trailed off.
For a moment, she simply stared.
Then, softer still—
“It’s not just a furnace.”
Her fingers curled faintly at her sides.
“It could change… everything we know about alchemy.”
A beat passed in silence, and Alpha could see the gears turning in her head.
He chuckled as the [Wasp] lifted from the surface and drifted through the air, settling lightly on her shoulder.
She stiffened as it leaned closer.
“Soooo…” he whispered near her ear, his tone as soft and sweet as a devil’s.
“Wanna give it a test drive?”