Karl stood in the chamber, his new body tense, every fiber alive with anticipation. The Drive Regulator sat snug on his waist, the Torque Regulator along his spine humming faintly. He stared at the Ignition Dial, the circular gear crank glinting under the soft light.
Hephaestus' voice echoed, calm but firm: "Karl… channel your Vythra. Let it flow through your body. Trust the Engine Soul and Gear Drive. They'll guide you."
Karl hesitated, confused. Vythra? He didn't understand what it was—yet he felt it, buried deep inside his soul, faint and fragile like a whisper of wind.
Taking a deep breath, he gripped the Ignition Dial. Slowly, he began to rotate it. The mechanical hum of the Regulator grew louder, a rhythmic pulse echoing through his chest. Blue-white filaments of energy sparked along his spine, tracing the Torque Regulator's gears.
The Engine Soul inside his chest stirred, veins of crystalline blue light surging outward, encasing him in a gentle cocoon of kinetic energy. The Gear Drive's micro-gears spun in perfect synchrony, torque flowing to every joint, limb, and muscle. Karl felt it—the energy answering his intent, ready to move at his command.
Faster. He twisted the Ignition Dial more aggressively. Sparks leapt from the Regulator, and the Vythra coursed through him like liquid lightning. His hair bristled, eyes glowing admiral blue, veins of energy visible beneath his skin. Every micro-gear, every strand of nanite, every pulse of his Engine Soul resonated as one.
The chamber filled with the sound of mechanical symphony—rotating gears, humming nanites, and a heartbeat-like vibration that seemed to come from inside the cocoon itself. Karl's chest expanded as he felt his life force amplify, every cell now fueled by the Engine Soul, guided by the Gear Drive.
Hephaestus' voice came again, filled with pride: "That's it, Karl. Feel it. Become one with your Vythra. Every thought, every motion—let it flow through you."
Karl's body shivered as a final surge of energy coursed through him, the Drive Regulator locking into place. He was no longer just Karl. He was the trinity: his conscious self, the Engine Soul, and the Gear Drive. The power of Vythra was alive in him, ready to transform thought into motion, will into action.
And in that moment, Karl knew—he could finally become the hero he had always dreamed of.
Karl began revving the Ignition Dial faster and faster, the mechanical hum rising into a high-pitched whine that reverberated through the chamber. Sparks of blue-white energy flickered along the edges of the Drive Regulator, snaking along the Torque Regulator on his spine.
Suddenly, nanites erupted outward from the Regulator like a living storm, spiraling around his arms, forming dense, shimmering layers. Karl blinked, momentarily startled — he hadn't expected this. Then realization hit: My parents… they used my own technology and integrated it inside the Regulator…
The nanites flowed with purpose, almost sentient, encasing his arms completely. Plates of deep cobalt interlocked with gradients of Azure and Aegean, forming sleek, armored gauntlets. Gears rotated along the forearms, turbines spinning in sync with the Vythra surging through him. As the transformation completed, his arms weren't just armored anymore — they had become fully functional blasters, mechanical extensions of his own will.
Karl raised his right arm experimentally. A surge of Vythra pulsed through the Gearheart Core, cascading into the new blaster. A concentrated kinetic beam erupted from the barrel, tearing through the empty air. The energy wave shimmered in blue-white brilliance, leaving faint traces of rotating micro-gears in its wake.
His eyes — Admiral Blue with cerulean cores — widened in awe. The combination of Engine Soul, Gear Drive, and his own consciousness had created something more than power: a living weapon, fused to his very being.
Karl flexed his fingers, feeling the resistance of the nanite arm and the feedback of the Vythra coursing through it. The blaster wasn't just a weapon; it was an extension of himself. The mechanical hum of rotating gears harmonized with his heartbeat, a symphony of precision, power, and promise.
He laughed — a short, incredulous burst of sound. "So this… this is what I can do now…"
The chamber seemed to tremble with potential, a prelude to the transformations and abilities yet to be unlocked. Karl knew this was only the beginning.
Hephaestus' voice echoed through the chamber, calm but resonant, almost like the grinding of gears in a colossal machine.
"Karl… congratulations," he said. "You have now attained the Forger Class."
Karl froze, mid-breath, his nanite-arm still humming with residual energy from the Vythra blast. "The… what class?" he asked, his voice a mixture of confusion, awe, and skepticism. "Forger… Class? What… what are you talking about?"
Hephaestus inclined his head, the mechanical eyes of his form glinting like polished steel. "Classes are classifications of potential, Karl. They are the framework by which the Primordials categorize beings who have been elevated beyond mortal limits. Think of them as… archetypes of capability. Each Class defines the scope of what one can do with their abilities, how far their soul, mind, and body can interact with the forces of the cosmos."
Karl blinked, trying to process. "So… it's like… a… ranking system?"
Hephaestus shook his head slightly, the gesture smooth, almost fluid despite his mechanical nature. "Not merely ranking. It is both categorization and potential guidance. A Class does not restrict you; it defines the boundaries of what you can manifest if you understand the fundamental principles behind your power. For instance, a Forger is someone capable of creating anything — if they possess the blueprint, know the design intimately, and have the skill to translate intention into reality."
Karl's mind raced. Anything? "You mean… I could… build a weapon? A vehicle? Even… a city…?" His voice faltered as he considered the implications, and the weight of the words pressed down on him. "That's… that's insane…"
Hephaestus' tone softened, carrying an undertone of pride. "Yes. Insane. But possible. It is not brute force alone that defines a Forger. It is precision, understanding, and the ability to integrate the abstract — your thoughts, your memory, your designs — with the very fabric of nanites, Vythra energy, and the principles of creation we have embedded into your body."
Karl staggered back a step, looking at his hands, now encased in the fully formed nanite blaster gauntlets. "So… all this," he gestured to his arm, the residual sparks of energy still drifting from the transformation, "is because I memorized… my own dreams? The things I wanted to make… when I was a kid?"
Hephaestus nodded. "Precisely. The Forger Class is unique among all Classes because its potential is limited not by power or strength, but by imagination, knowledge, and mastery of design. You've already demonstrated aptitude by reviving your Engine Soul and Gear Drive, synchronizing three consciousnesses within your body, and harnessing Vythra to construct functional weapons in real time."
Karl swallowed hard, his chest tightening as a swirl of emotions — awe, pride, disbelief, and grief — coursed through him. "So… I'm… more than just me now? I can… create things… because I am… Forger Class?"
Hephaestus' gaze softened, mechanical hands folding in front of him. "You are more than you ever were in life, Karl. But remember… with this Class comes responsibility. Creation is a gift, but also a burden. The things you create will be extensions of your soul. They will reflect your intent, your morality, and your focus. One mistake… one lapse… and creation may turn against you."
Karl let the words sink in, his mind drifting to the millions of people he had saved, the nanites swirling around his arm, the potential waiting in the Drive Regulator. "So… Classes… they're… like a… map? A way to know what I could do… if I'm… careful?"
"Yes," Hephaestus said with a measured nod. "They are both map and compass. A guide to unlock the full spectrum of your being, your Engine Soul, your Gear Drive, and your connection to Vythra. Your parents' souls may stabilize and protect you, but you… you are the architect now."
Karl exhaled, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. "Architect… huh? I guess… I am that now." He glanced at the Drive Regulator, the hum of Vythra pulsing through him, and his Admiral Blue eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and wonder. "So… if I'm a Forger, there's… no limit to what I could… make?"
Hephaestus' gaze was steady. "The limit is only what your mind and heart can conceive. That is the power — and the responsibility — of the Forger Class."
Karl paused, the magnitude of the moment crashing down on him. For the first time in his life, he felt whole — not fragile, not limited, not bound by mortality. He was a creator, a warrior, a hero forged from the sacrifices and love of his parents, the guidance of the Primordials, and the fire of his own determination.
And in that moment, Kurogane Karl understood: everything he had lost, everything he had suffered, had brought him here — to the point where imagination, will, and soul could bend reality itself.