(Planet Vorthas, Inside Amanda's Workshop, Amanda's POV)
*Clink*
*Whirr*
*Sizzle*
The air in Amanda's workshop was thick with the smell of molten alloys and the faint hum of power runes, as copper-tinted sparks showered across the cluttered bench before her.
She leaned back in her chair, grease-stained fingers pressing against her forehead, as her brown eyes glared at the humming contraption in the corner of the room.
"Seven days… that's all you can manage before the filters burn out completely," she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp with frustration, as though the machine itself had personally insulted her intelligence.
"Even though you're the size of a bloody refrigerator and are not even remotely close to being wearable, your lifespan is a mere seven days…..
Like what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?
Leo asked me for a miniature amulet sized protection object, not a life support machine…."
