He reached up, brushing a strand of his hair — it shimmered in deep admiral blue, matching the glint in his eyes. The color of tempered steel and rebirth.
Karl fell to his knees, trembling.
Karl (softly, voice cracking): "I… I'm not broken anymore…"
He bowed deeply, pressing his forehead against the luminous floor.
Karl: "Forgive me… for my anger before. I didn't know who you were. I was blind — and I spoke out of pain. But now… now I see."
His voice shook, echoing through the Cradle.
Karl: "You gave me life when I'd already thrown it away. You showed me what I couldn't see — that my parents didn't die for nothing. That I wasn't abandoned by fate… only prepared."
The golden light pulsed softly in response, as if Yggdrasil itself accepted his apology.
Thanamira smiled from above, her expression full of pride and compassion.
Thanamira: "Stand tall, Kurogane Karl. You've shed the shell of mortality. The weakness you once cursed was the forge that made your soul unbreakable."
He slowly rose, his form illuminated by divine glow, energy humming faintly beneath his skin. His heart — no longer flesh, but a perfect fusion of soul and machine — beat steadily, syncing with Yggdrasil's rhythm.
Karl looked toward the Primordials, voice low but resolute.
Karl: "Then I'll honor this life. I'll honor them. Every step, every gear, every spark — I'll make it count."
Hephaestus crossed his arms, a proud smirk forming under his molten beard.
Artemis folded her arms gently, her expression thoughtful — the faintest smile tugging at her lips.
The boy who had once been too frail to stand now stood tall among gods.
And though he didn't know it yet — within his heart, two faint pulses answered his vow.
A mother's warmth.
A father's will.
They were watching.
Thanamira's aura softened, emerald light cascading like a veil of spring wind. She extended her hand, and with it, the very roots of Yggdrasil began to shimmer — drawing threads of radiant silver and molten azure from the air itself.
Thanamira (gently): "A hero should not face destiny bare and cold. Your body was reforged by divinity, but your spirit still needs a vessel — a symbol."
From behind her, Hephaestus stepped forward. His molten arm gleamed with veins of gold and red as he grinned proudly, snapping his fingers.
At once, a series of mechanical runes ignited across the floor beneath Karl, forming a circular forge sigil.
Hephaestus: "A gift from me and your old man. We called it The Foundry Weave. Stronger than any metal, softer than cloth — it adapts to your core's flow."
Streams of nanite threads rose from the sigil, swirling around Karl like a cocoon. They moved in harmony, flowing with warmth — not the cold precision of machines, but something alive, almost affectionate.
The threads shimmered, taking form piece by piece.
A black undersuit, interlaced with faint blue circuitry, wrapped around his torso.
Over it, jacket plating with flexible nanite-fabric shoulders formed, deep navy fading into cobalt at the edges.
Trousers materialized, segmented but seamless, reinforced at the joints with soft gear-pattern stitching.
His boots locked into place — part armor, part exoskeletal brace — a balance of function and reverence.
Every seam pulsed faintly with light, syncing to the rhythm of the Gearheart Core within his chest.
Karl's breath caught as the cocoon of nanites finally dissolved, revealing his reflection through Yggdrasil's mirrored floor — a man no longer in rags of mortality, but clothed in purpose.
Hephaestus folded his arms, nodding in satisfaction.
Hephaestus: "There. A chassis worthy of the son of creation."
Thanamira smiled softly beside him.
Thanamira: "And woven with the warmth of the souls who shaped you."
Karl looked down at himself — running a hand along the sleek jacket fabric that gleamed faintly under the sanctum light. It felt neither metallic nor cloth-like, but something alive, resonating with his every movement.
Karl (quietly): "It feels… like home."
Hephaestus chuckled, a deep, rumbling laugh echoing through the chamber.
Hephaestus: "Then it's working. It's linked to your essence — as long as your core beats, it'll move and grow with you."
Karl stood, adjusting the collar instinctively, his cerulean eyes catching the light like burning stars.
He exhaled slowly, fists clenching.
Karl: "Then I'm ready… to become what I've always dreamed of."
A subtle vibration rippled through the Drive Regulator at his waist — as if it heard him, waiting for his next command.
Karl looked down at the Drive Regulator gleaming around his waist — sleek, navy, and alive with faint pulses of cerulean light. Its central dial hummed gently, waiting.
Hephaestus folded his arms, the faint clang of his molten armor echoing through the sanctum.
Hephaestus: "Go on then, boy. Transform."
Karl blinked, confused.
Karl: "Transform? Into what?"
Hephaestus smirked, stepping aside. The air behind him shimmered, and two silhouettes appeared — faint, translucent, glowing in gentle blue and amber light.
A man and a woman.
Karl's breath hitched.
Karl (whispering): "...Mom? Dad?"
The figures smiled, voices echoing like warmth through metal.
Ayaka's Voice: "Hey, sweetheart… surprised?"
Itsuki's Voice: "Told you we'd finish that old project someday."
Karl's knees nearly buckled. His eyes widened as fragments of memory flickered — his mother sketching circuits beside a small boy, his father soldering toy gear parts to a plastic belt while he watched Kamen Rider reruns on the old living room TV.
He staggered a step forward, trembling.
Karl: "You… you remembered."
His mother's spectral hand reached out — just close enough for him to feel her warmth through the Engine Soul resonating in his chest.
Ayaka's Voice (softly): "Of course we did. You always said heroes were the ones who risked everything to save others. We just made sure you could be one."