Chapter 207: A Souvenir

Butter sizzled in the cast-iron skillet, sending up a rich, savory aroma that filled the open kitchen.

Zephyra stood by the stove in an oversized black pullover and shorts with a wooden spatula in her hand. With steady flicks of her wrist, she folded scrambled eggs over sautéed portobello mushrooms, sliding the finished portion onto a white plate.

Amber was already seated at the kitchen island in a gray tank top and running shorts, her long dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Her bare heels tapped a steady rhythm against the barstool as she swiped through her tablet propped against a glass of orange juice.

"You’re not going to believe the headlines this morning," Amber said as Evren walked in wearing a fresh black t-shirt and jeans.

"Let me guess," Evren said, pulling out a stool beside her. "The news stations are still running the tarmac footage on loop?"

"Worse," Amber said with a grin, turning the screen toward him. "The Central Daily ran a full-page photo of you with your cleaver over your shoulder. The headline literally says: The Titan of District One Delivers Salvation."

Zephyra set a plate of steaming eggs and toasted sourdough bread in front of Evren.

"The press in this city has a short memory," Zephyra murmured quietly. "Not long ago, they were questioning if an ex-courier had any right to even lead a guild, let alone challenge the capital."

"Media runs on whatever sells papers," Evren said, picking up his fork. "How are the comments under Drake’s broadcast?"

"Very positive," Amber answered, scrolling down. "People were terrified for three straight days. Seeing the head of Solar Crown publicly bow and admit another guild saved everyone took any political spin out of it. Even the council blogs admit Apex carried the defense line."

The soft whir of an electric motor hummed from the hallway.

Calista steered her wheelchair into the kitchen, wearing a light-blue knit sweater over black leggings. Her silver hair was brushed neatly over her shoulders, and the shadows under her eyes were gone.

"Good morning," Calista said with a warm smile.

"Morning," Amber said. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept pretty well, thanks for asking," Calista replied.

She brought her wheelchair to the end of the island, locked the brakes with a firm click, and placed both hands on the granite counter.

Instead of waiting for help, she leaned forward, set her feet flat on the floor, and pushed herself upward.

Her knees shook slightly, but she braced her core, turned on her heels, and lowered herself smoothly into the wooden dining chair beside Amber. She adjusted her posture and let out a small, satisfied breath.

Amber watched the transfer and gave her a thumbs-up. "Clean movement. No hesitations."

"Dr. Elena will be pleased," Calista said, clearly proud of the small victory.

Zephyra brought over a fresh plate of eggs and a cup of warm jasmine tea for Calista, then poured a mug of black coffee for Evren.

"Elena is confirmed for nine o’clock," Evren told Calista between bites of toast. "Walter’s guards on Floor Seventy-Six have her on the roster. They’ll escort her straight to the private elevator. Take your time with the morning mobility drills, and don’t push too hard before the afternoon session."

"I will," Calista promised. "I want to make sure my baseline is steady before we head down to Floor Seventy-Five."

Evren finished his breakfast, wiped his hands on a napkin, and looked across the counter at Amber.

"We have some business to handle before Kincaid’s office calls," Evren said.

He tapped his spatial storage ring and retrieved two heavy pieces of dark, crystalline bone, setting them gently on the polished granite.

The kitchen went quiet.

The pieces were the fractured halves of Amber’s left Dragon-Bone saber. The jagged break ran straight through the thick spine where the Level 102 Calamity Beast’s bone scythe had slammed down. Even broken, the deep crimson runes etched into the metal held a faint hum.

Amber stopped scrolling on her tablet. She reached out, her fingers tracing the rough fracture line.

"I looked at it after we got back," Evren said. "I was thinking we could take it to Master Tridon this afternoon. He forged the original pair. If we give him the pieces, he can melt them down and reforge the set into something even stronger."

Amber looked at the broken blade for a long moment, picking up the hilt end. The grip was worn smooth from her hands, molded by battles.

"No," Amber said softly, shaking her head.

Evren looked at her. "You don’t want to fix it?"

"I don’t want to melt it down," Amber clarified, meeting his eyes. "This blade took the full force of an extinction-class boss to keep me alive. It took a hit that should have cut me in half, and it held together long enough for you to break the stasis lock."

She ran her thumb along the broken edge with genuine reverence.

"I want to keep both halves as a souvenir. A reminder of what we survived in that hole, and how close we came to losing everything. Melting it down feels wrong."

She set the hilt down and looked directly at Evren.

"Can we just commission an entirely new pair from scratch? A matched set of twin sabers, built from the ground up?"

Evren smiled, respecting her attachment to the weapon that had saved her life. "Of course. If you want to keep them, they’re yours. We have plenty of materials."

"What kind of catalysts are we using?" Zephyra asked, drying her hands on a cloth as she walked over from the sink. "Standard alloy won’t match what she had before."

Evren tapped his storage ring again.

Two glowing, dark-violet spheres materialized on the granite, each about the size of an orange. They hummed with dense energy that caused the air in the kitchen to vibrate slightly.

"Level Eighty-Two Void Royal Guardian Cores," Evren said, nodding toward the crystals. "I harvested four of them after shattering the cocoons."

Amber leaned over the counter, inspecting them with wide eyes. "Level Eighty-Two... Tridon used a single Level Forty-Five core for my entire first set."

"One of these in each hilt will give the blades five times the mana conductivity and unmatched structural resilience," Evren said. "They’ll synchronize naturally as a twin pair without overloading the alloy."

Amber looked up, a sudden thought crossing her mind. "What about the big one? The Level One Hundred and Two core from the boss? Won’t you make for yourself a new weapon with it?"

Evren shook his head without hesitation.

"That one stays locked in the ring," he said firmly.

Calista tilted her head, curious. "Why? A core of that level would create a divine armament."

"There’s something abnormal about it," Evren explained, keeping his voice level. "During the fight, right before the beast went down, it tried to lock my consciousness in a mental construct. The core carries an irregular resonance that I don’t fully understand yet. Until I know exactly what’s inside it, I’m not letting anyone strike it with a forge hammer."

The explanation made complete sense to everyone at the table. In high-tier raids, blindly using an unidentified boss core was a dangerous gamble.

Zephyra leaned against the island, looking at the two pulsing Level 82 cores. A flicker of uncertainty showed in her voice.

"Has Master Tridon ever worked with cores this high?" she asked quietly. "I know he’s the best blacksmith in the province, but Level Eighty-Two is... well... in the highest range of cores. Most smiths never see anything above Level Sixty."

"He forged your Shadow Whip-Blade with an S-Rank core without missing a beat," Evren said, looking over at her. "He told us back then that he had spent forty years waiting to sink his hammer into materials of that grade. When he sees these Level Eighty-Two cores, he’ll treat it as the defining commission of his life."

Amber nodded in full agreement. "Tridon has the skill. He built my first set with a Level Forty-Five core, and they held against an extinction beast. Give him two sovereign cores and fresh star-metal, and he’ll make a masterpiece. I trust his hands completely."

"Then it’s settled," Evren said, sweeping his hand over the two purple cores and storing them back into his ring. "We’ll head down to District Four after the morning debrief."

Right on cue, Evren’s phone vibrated against the stone counter.

The screen lit up with an encrypted military channel notification from Imperial Defense Command. Evren tapped the glass and opened the message.

[TRANSMISSION: IMPERIAL DEFENSE DIVISION — OFFICE OF THE GRAND ARBITER]

[RECIPIENT: CHAIRMAN EVREN CRAWFORD / APEX SOVEREIGN CONGLOMERATE]

[NOTICE: OFFICIAL DEBRIEFING & STRATEGIC ASSESSMENT SESSION]

[TIME: 0800 HOURS PROMPT]

[LOCATION: GRAND CITADEL DEFENSE HEADQUARTERS, CHAMBER 4]

[ESCORT TRANSPORT HAS BEEN DISPATCHED TO DISTRICT ONE.]

Evren checked the digital clock on the wall. It was 7:28 AM.

"Transport is on its way," Evren announced, sliding the phone into his pocket.

He looked over at Amber, who had already set her mug down.

"Kincaid’s office is calling the whole defense board together," Evren said. "You’re coming with me."

Amber pushed back her chair, stood up straight, and gave him a sharp, confident smile. "Give me ten minutes to change," Amber said. "I’ll be ready."

Zephyra stepped forward. "I’ll stay here with Calista and oversee the security rotation on the floor. Walter has his veterans stationed at every stairwell and elevator bank, so nothing is getting past the seventy-sixth floor."

"Good," Evren said. "Elena will be up at nine. Let her do her work."