Zeph's heart hammered against his ribs, each beat thunderous in the silence of his apartment. The crystal was so hot now it was almost painful to hold, but he didn't dare let go, didn't dare move, as if any disturbance might tip the balance toward failure.
'Please. Please work. I can't lose both skills. Not after everything.'
The copper red radiance inside the crystal had frozen mid-swirl, suspended in a way that looked fundamentally wrong—like watching water stop flowing mid-pour, defying physics and logic.
Twenty seconds.
'Is it failing? Is this what failure looks like?'
Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool air. His enhanced VIT meant he rarely sweated anymore—his body regulated temperature too efficiently—but the psychological stress was overwhelming his physical conditioning.
'34,000 credits for the crystal. Two A-rank skills. Weeks of planning. All of it about to evaporate because the fusion can't stabilize.'
