Ezra stared intently at the blue screen before him as he walked with care down the dirt road back to Lyssandra’s house. It still seemed like a miracle that all the items were still in the Thorin-sphere. The supplies from Milo’s backpack, along with a vibro-crystal gun and three swords—he had grabbed from the encampment on the 2nd layer—all slotted neatly into the gridded inventory. Then there was that strange crimson square labeled fatal injury, lvl 3. It wasn’t something physical, and Ezra had no idea what would happen if he dropped it. Yet there was one thing that was different about the screen.

  Along the top left corner, a button labeled craft had appeared. Pressing it made each item vibrate slightly in their squares, and whenever Ezra pressed an item, the image glowed. The option seemed to imply he could manipulate his inventory in some way.

  Passing another person on the street, Ezra instinctively swayed to the side to avoid a collision and continued deep in thought. Alright, let's try something simple first. Ezra tapped on a bundle of rope, one of the swords, and the quarterstaff. The craft button glowed as the third item was selected.

  Would you like to craft a long spear, lvl 2?

  [Yes] [No]

  Ezra smiled and immediately pressed yes. So that is what I thought. Once he selected the option, the three items merged, and the symbol of a spear appeared at the end of the row. Clicking the new item, he selected the option to drop, and without delay, it materialized in the air and fell to the ground. Ezra leaned down to pick it up.

  The spear was about a head taller than him, but it balanced perfectly in his hands. Running his fingering along the decorative grooves in the quarterstaff and seeing the dull gleam of the tip, Ezra could tell the individual items still retained much of their original characteristics. He pulled at the tip, yet the rope held it sturdy. The craftsmanship was amazing for something made so quickly.

  A middle-aged man gave him a sidelong glance as Ezra twirled the spear around. To not raise further suspicions, he decided that was enough experimentation for now and put the long spear back into the Thorin-sphere. The possibilities the craft option presented to Ezra rushed through his mind; every item along his journey was a tool that could be something more. I could make Decrite into a shield, or I could combine artifacts. The options seemed endless. A rusted sheet of metal rested on the side of the road. To most people, it would seem like a piece of junk, but with this new power, Ezra saw more. Tapping the Thorin-sphere against its corrugated surface, the rusted sheet disappeared in a flash of light. He had no idea what it could be used for at this moment, but Ezra knew he would think of something.

  Picking up a few more pieces of junk—an empty canister, a wrench, and frayed wire from a broken fence—Ezra soon arrived at Lyssandra’s. It was still about an hour before last light, but Ezra supposed it wouldn’t hurt to be early. The familiar humble home was a relief to see after the strange architecture of Theal’neblis, yet the wreath of flowers on the door had fallen to the ground.

  As Ezra grabbed it, several petals, curling from the dry air, fell to the ground. He frowned and then remembered the countless flowers behind the house. I’ll just make a new one with the Thorin-sphere. Pulling the remaining flowers off revealed a cylindrical base that had held all the twisted stems in place. With a simple tap of the Thorin-sphere, it entered Ezra’s inventory.

  The wooden fence creaked as he pushed it open and entered the backyard. A myriad of flowers bloomed in shades of purple, white, and blue. Each one stood healthy in the evening light that danced across their petals. Yet Ezra noticed something else. The door to the shed was open, and the sound of someone shuffling around inside exited.

  Opening his inventory, Ezra took out the long spear and slowly approached. It’s possible they got back before me, or it could be Lyssandra, but I shouldn’t take any chances. Tightening his grip, Ezra could nearly peek inside. Upon seeing Wilfred crouched in the middle of the shed, Ezra relaxed his shoulders and planted the spear like a walking stick.

  “You’re back early,” he said as Wilfred continued to work with something on the ground. What was he doing? Wilfred’s hands were shaking. “Did you figure something out?” Ezra asked, this time with more concern.

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  “I’ve found Marlaove,” Wilfred said, his back still turned, as he set down what looked like an artifact.

  “That’s great!” Ezra’s face lit up. “Where is he?”

  Wilfred placed a rifle down and reached for something else below the floor. “Warehouse fifteen.”

  “Is it dangerous?” Suddenly, Ezra felt less than adequate with the spear at his side.

  “Probably,” Wilfred shrugged and put the strap of the vibro-crystal rifle over his shoulder as he stood up and faced Ezra. “But that’s not the problem. Warehouse fifteen is on the other side of the ring.” His face was cold, all emotion buried deep within, yet that silent rage still burned behind his eyes. Grabbing a wooden board leaning against the door frame of the shed, Wilfred put it back into the gap in the floor.

  “Well, that’s fine, right? It’ll take a bit of time, but we can reach him in a day if we hurry.”

  Wilfred shook his head before Ezra could say another word. “He’ll be dead by tomorrow morning. Faulpher-tek knows about him too.” Wilfred stepped out of the shed and closed the door. “You’ve helped enough. You don’t need to tag along for this one.”

  “But how will you reach him?” A thought popped into Ezra’s head. The time they chased Wilfred in the streets and when he had defended them in the warehouse. His skill always gave him the advantage of speed. “You’ll teleport there, but there are limits to it. You can’t go the whole way, so you’ll have to do it in increments.”

  “You’ve got the right idea, kid.” Wilfred walked down the stone path, and Ezra followed.

  “But that’s insane. If I’m guessing right, you can only teleport where you can see, and that still has limits on how much energy you can use, so to get across the abyss, you’ll have to teleport hundreds of times. Unless you can make the jump across the entire ring. Can you?”

  “I can’t. It’ll be the long way around.” Wilfred said in a casual tone.

  How easily Wilfred brushed him off sent a shiver down Ezra’s spine. “B…but using your skill that many times, even if that's possible, it’ll eat up your stamina. You won’t be in shape to fight.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Wilfred readjusted the rifle strap as he kicked open the fence, and Ezra hurried after him, afraid he was going to teleport away any second.

  “Then let me come with you. Even if you’re exhausted, I… I can fight.” Can I? Am I strong enough? Ezra frowned and squeezed the spear in frustration. He was tired of asking himself that question and wondered if there would be a day he would no longer ask it.

  “And how are you going to get there?” Wilfred finally stopped and turned to face him. “Do you expect me to carry you on my back? Carrying things with me only consumes more of my stamina. You unalloyed,” Wilfred sighed before continuing his sentence. “Just stay here.”

  The drumming of footsteps pounded on the road ahead, and they both looked to see what was approaching. Milo’s messy brown hair bobbed slightly as he ran through the dusty street. Stopping only steps away from Wilfred, he leaned down and gasped for whatever air he could.

  “It’s—” The words seemed to leave him with every breath. “It's Shatterfold. We have to stop them.” Regaining his strength, even though his face still burned with exhaustion, Milo stood straight and noticed the rifle across Wilfred’s shoulder. “What’s going on, and why do you look like you're about to take on an army?”

  “It’s Marlaove,” Ezra replied. “Wilfred’s found him, but he’s on the other side of the ring, and Faulpher-tek knows where he is also. We have until tomorrow morning.”

  “But that’s about a day’s…” Milo brushed the thought aside with a swipe of his hand. “Both of you already know that, so how are you going to make it in time?”

  Wilfred glanced at the both of them and then at the roof of a house far behind Milo. Ezra noticed his eyes shifting and was ready to grab him at any moment. “We don’t have a plan. At least not one that has a chance of working.”

  Wilfred glared at him. “Then what? How do you propose I cross the ring in less than half a day?”

  “What about the Abyss Jumpers?” Milo blurted out. “They hop across the ring nearly every day.”

  “And as an unalloyed, you have connections to them?” Wilfred tapped the butt of his rifle. Ezra could tell he was getting impatient.

  A confident grin spread across Milo’s face. “Yeah, I do.”

  “You do?” Ezra said.

  “Hana has one on her team; we just need to ask her.”

  “You know what happened last time we talked to her. She barely even recognized us. There’s no reason she owes us a favor.”

  Milo raised his eyebrows like Ezra was offering a challenge. “Trust me. It’ll work. When we talked to her, I could tell she’s not the kind of person to refuse offering a helping hand. She’s not in this for her own self-interest, and I’ll prove it to you.”

  “Where is Hana?” Wilfred asked.

  “Right across from the Morltin testing center,” Milo replied. “I think she was staying in a hotel.”

  Wilfred nodded and readjusted the rifle strap one more time. “Then let's go; every minute here is a waste.”

  Before either of them could utter a word, Wilfred grabbed both of them and activated his skill.