Karl's hands hovered above the floating blueprint projections, the cobalt glow of the Nexus reflecting in his Admiral-blue eyes. The arms of the Erevos frame were colossal constructs in his mind, perfect in theory — but turning them into reality was another story entirely.
He clenched his fists. "Alright… focus. Step by step."
He reached forward, nanites bursting from the Nexus to form the first segments of the forearm. But as he guided them, the structure wobbled. A loud clang echoed as the mechanical elbow twisted incorrectly, snapping a lattice strand. Sparks scattered like shrapnel.
Karl muttered curses under his breath, heart pounding. "No… no, not like this. Secondary rotation angle… adjust!"
He recalibrated, pulling subtle kinetic pulses from his own Vythra to stabilize the arm. The nanites obeyed hesitantly, forming a slightly better iteration. The fingers aligned, but the joints were stiff, refusing to flow smoothly.
Hours — or perhaps minutes — passed indistinguishably in the Nexus. Each failure burned into Karl's mind, but with each small success, the arm became more responsive.
"Okay… less torsion on the inner coil… reroute power through the lateral actuators… stabilize the gear matrix."
The second attempt wobbled less. The elbow bent more naturally, the forearm flexing almost human-like, but the fingers twitched unnaturally, jerking instead of curling fluidly. Karl groaned, slumping slightly. "Why can't I get the finger hydraulics right? I… I did this before!"
Memories flickered — three years he'd spent building the Erevos mech after his parents' deaths. He remembered every mistake, every recalibration, every tweak of torque and nanite tension. Yet here, in the Nexus, with infinite Vythra and no physical fatigue, it was… different. The materials weren't the same. The flow of energy responded unlike the mortal world.
Karl took a deep breath, steadying his mind. "I have to treat this like… like I'm teaching myself again."
He reached out again. This time, instead of trying to force the arm to perfect form immediately, he guided the nanites gently, letting them shape themselves around the skeletal matrix he envisioned. The fingers twitched — then curled. The elbow bent, then straightened. The wrist rotated fluidly.
Karl's lips curved in a small, victorious smile. "Better… finally."
But he didn't stop. The Nexus pulsed, sensing his determination. Streams of kinetic energy poured into the arm, coating it with protective layers of nanite armor. Cobalt-blue veins glowed along the forearm, tracing the paths of the energy conduits.
Karl extended his hand experimentally. The arm followed. The fingers moved in perfect synchronicity with his own. A pulse of Vythra ran through the limb, testing the output, the flexibility, the response. The arm held firm.
Yet even in this small success, Karl could feel the imperfections — micro-adjustments that would be critical when integrating the arm into the full mech frame. He made a mental note, pushing the feeling aside.
He clenched the newly formed fist. "One down… one more arm to go."
And as he began guiding the nanites to form the second arm, Karl realized: this wasn't just construction. It was a meditation. A negotiation between memory, instinct, and raw willpower. Each failure taught him more about the Nexus, about how the Vythra responded, about how his soul resonated with his parents' energies.
The trial had only just begun.
Karl's first arm gleamed cobalt under the Nexus light, a testament to hours of painstaking effort. But now, he faced the second arm — a mirror of the first, yet somehow more challenging.
He reached out, and the nanites obeyed at first, forming the skeletal structure. The elbow bent slightly, but then twisted at an unnatural angle. A sharp clang echoed through the Nexus, and energy sparks flew from the faulty joint.
Karl's heart sank. "No… not again…" His palms sweated, even though there was no physical strain. "I can't let it fail this time."
He leaned back, closing his eyes, and recalled every adjustment he had made on the first arm: torsion angles, lateral actuators, joint tolerances, energy flow through the nanite lattice. He ran the sequence in his mind, trying to synchronize memory with instinct.
Opening his eyes, he began again, slower this time. He guided the nanites gently, coaxing them into place instead of forcing them.
But as the forearm extended, the fingers twitched violently. One snapped inward too quickly, as if resisting the intended motion. The elbow locked for a fraction of a second, then violently released. Karl yelped as a pulse of Vythra surged through his body, knocking him back mentally.
"Focus… control… patience…"
He exhaled, letting the energy settle. Then, hand trembling slightly, he tried again. This time, he used micro-adjustments, letting the arm form in segments. The elbow clicked into place with a satisfying rotation. The wrist rotated smoothly. Fingers flexed and curled in response to his mental commands.
But stability was fleeting. A joint trembled, threatening to collapse, and the nanite lattice flickered. Karl slammed his palm against the imaginary surface of the Nexus, sending a ripple of kinetic energy to stabilize the structure.
"No shortcuts. Every detail counts."
Hours—or what felt like hours—passed in this rhythm of trial, error, and correction. One joint at a time, one actuator at a time, Karl rebuilt the arm piece by piece. Each minor collapse became a lesson, each tremor a teacher. The arm began to behave more predictably, responding faithfully to his will and the pulsing energies of the Trinity Core.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the arm was complete. He raised it experimentally. The fingers flexed perfectly, the elbow rotated with precision, the wrist and forearm flowing as if alive. The cobalt-and-cerulean veins of Vythra energy glowed softly along the arm, harmonizing with the first.
Karl let out a shaky breath. "Both… arms…" He flexed them, testing their synchronization. Each movement felt natural, like extensions of his own body.
A quiet, satisfied smile spread across his face. "I… I did it. I actually did it."
But he didn't stop to celebrate. His gaze drifted toward the space in his mind where the third blueprint should reside — the vehicle frame. A bitter pang of frustration hit him. He could recall the Erevos prototype, the sleek lines and mechanical elegance he had once built in months… but the memories were fragmented, incomplete. The Nexus would not allow him to reconstruct it from partial recall.
"Not yet," he muttered. "I'll come back to it. For now… I need to perfect what I have."
Karl flexed both arms again, feeling the responsive weight and energy flow. The trial was far from over, but he had cleared the first major hurdle: the mech frame's limbs.
The Nexus pulsed around him, resonating with his determination. It was a harsh teacher, but one he was beginning to understand.
And somewhere deep inside the Trinity Core, the subtle, guiding presences of his parents — Engine Soul and Gear Drive — hummed in quiet approval, stabilizing his every motion.