---
Fizz watched like a child watching a magician pull rabbits from empty sleeves. Every time John fitted a piece correctly, Fizz made a pleased sound as if a meal had been seasoned properly.
"This is art," Fizz said. "Violent art, but still art."
John tested the balance. He tested the rune response. He pressed his palm to the grip and let a thin thread of mana run through it. The runes flickered, recognized him, and settled.
[Ding! System Notification: User imprint accepted.
Owner Lock: John confirmed.
Rune Channel Sync: Stable.
Safety Protocol: Ready.]
He removed his hand.
The weapon did not hum loudly. It did not glow dramatically. It looked almost ordinary, which was the most dangerous kind of look.
John reached into a small pouch and pulled out a level three beast core. The core was the size of a thumb joint, dark and faintly glossy, with a pulse inside it like a trapped heartbeat. He held it up.
