Morning sunlight filtered through the workshop window, illuminating the battlefield of crumpled papers scattered around Rex like defeated foes. He sat cross-legged on the floor, sketching yet another gauntlet design — a glove with metal plating, crystal slots, arcane channels—
Crkkk.
He stared at the drawing… sighed… and crushed it into yet another ball before tossing it onto the pile.
From the couch, Velkohr smirked.
"Guess you're losing your money, sis."
Lira didn't look up from polishing her dagger.
"Don't celebrate yet. Watch. He's gonna snap into genius mode. It happens."
Rex, however, looked nowhere near genius. He was muttering to himself:
"Damn it… none of these designs work. Too unstable, too simple, too likely to explode my hand off— why is everything either a bomb or stupid?!"
Inside his head, Sage finally snapped.
Sage (internally, dry as sand):
This is getting painful to watch. I'm intervening. Listen closely, before you embarrass both of us.
Rex blinked, grabbed a pen, grabbed paper.
"Fine. Whatever. Hit me with wisdom, oh mighty sarcastic voice."
Sage began.
Sage:
First: those crystals the book mentioned? Cut them into smaller ovals. Not tiny — just enough space to inscribe a spell without blowing yourself sky-high.
Rex scribbled furiously. "Oval crystals. Spell space. Not explodey. Got it."
Sage:
Next: full glove design. Overlay with a flexible metal that's resistant to heat and cold but still strong enough that if a spell backfires, your hand doesn't vaporize.
Rex nodded like a student hearing the secrets of the universe. "Good point. I like having hands."
Sage:
Install a slot for the oval crystal at the top of the gauntlet — center of the hand. Balanced distribution.
Rex wrote so fast he nearly tore the page.
Sage:
Then, etch lines from that slot. Channeling lines. They should flow across the whole gauntlet and end at each fingertip — to let you cast basically any type of spell.
Rex was writing so violently the pen squeaked in terror. He had to slow down before the paper started smoking.
Sage:
Finally: inscribe spells on the gauntlet itself. Protection, reinforcement, stability. And one insignia under the crystal slot — a directional discharge rune. If something goes wrong, the blast goes outward. Not inward. Toward your enemies, not your bones.
Rex's eyes went wide. A giant grin spread across his face.
"This… this is perfect!"
He slammed down a new sheet of paper and started sketching with wild enthusiasm — the lines clean, the ideas sharper, the design coming together beautifully. Pages fluttered around him like a one-man storm.
Lira smirked and nudged Velkohr.
"Told you. Genius mode."
Velkohr groaned, tossing a coin into her hand.
"Still weird to bet on his brain like it's a horse race."
Lira shrugged.
"It's a reliable horse."