Chapter 220: Pilot Distillation

Calista eagerly led the way toward the service elevator with light steps. Evren and Amber followed close behind as the lift carried them up to the second-floor cleanroom facility.

The lift doors parted to reveal an airtight air-shower sanitation booth. They stepped inside, letting high-pressure filtered air blast away any dust from their clothes before slipping into sterile white lab coats hanging on the rack.

Amber adjusted the cuffs of her coat and looked through the clear observation window into the huge hall. Three big bronze and glass vats stood high toward the ceiling, joined together by silver pipes.

"So, do you just flip a giant master switch and start brewing ten thousand bottles right now?" Amber asked with a curious grin.

Calista let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she tied her silver hair back with a black ribbon. "If I did that, we would probably waste millions of credits in raw ingredients during our very first hour. A real alchemist never touches an industrial vat without testing the baseline first."

Evren smiled, leaning against the doorframe of the preparation lab. "Because theory on a screen doesn’t always match physical reality?"

"Exactly," Calista agreed, walking over to the central granite island in the middle of the room. "I spent days running molecular models and balancing equations on my tablet on Floor 80. Today is about finding out if reality agrees with my notes."

She gestured toward the far end of the counter, where a machine encased in brushed titanium and polished silver sat beside the glassware.

"The cartel bought this top-of-the-line optical purity spectrometer right before their assets were seized. The protective seals are still on the sensor prism, so it has never even been turned on."

"What does it do?" Amber asked, leaning over the counter to examine the crystal lens.

"It projects a multi-spectrum mana beam through an alchemical sample to measure molecular bonding and cellular toxicity," Calista explained. "Traditional alchemists rely on taste and color, but this machine gives exact numerical data down to four decimal places."

Evren stepped closer, watching as Calista began unpacking the small sample containers brought up from the loading dock. She retrieved a sealed tray of fresh Star-Jade leaves nestled in blue preservation gel, along with several canisters of fine white catalyst powder.

Amber looked at the translucent green leaves, tilting her head in thought. "Military field salves always smell like rotten sulfur and burn like acid when medics slap them on wounds. Why is that?"

"Because commercial syndicates use cheap caustic acids to force violent cell division," Calista answered, measuring thirty grams of catalyst powder on a digital scale. "It closes the wound quickly, but it destroys healthy tissue and leaves thick, stiff scar tissue behind. Only few use high-grade ingredients, hence why they are expensive"

She carefully peeled three Star-Jade leaves from the gel, using a silver blade to score the surface and release the clear, aromatic sap into a glass beaker.

"My formula relies on harmonic cellular resonance instead of brute force. It matches the natural frequency of human meridians, coaxing damaged cells to rebuild themselves without scarring."

Evren watched her work in quiet fascination.

Calista stood tall and perfectly balanced on her own two feet, her shoulders relaxed and her hands moving with effortless precision.

Seeing her like this, completely absorbed in her craft, made it hard to believe she had spent two years locked in a freezing basement, unable to move a single finger. Back then, she had no grimoire, no tools, and no paper.

She had survived those dark, endless nights by repeating chemical equations in her head over and over just to keep her mind from shattering.

Now, those mental calculations were finally turning into physical reality.

Calista transferred the emerald sap into a distillation flask, adjusting the magnetic stirrer beneath the glass. "Activating thermal coil," Calista murmured, tapping the control pad.

A gentle hum filled the cleanroom as the induction plate heated the base of the flask. Calista placed her hands lightly on the brass stabilization ring at the neck of the flask, closing her eyes as a faint, silvery-blue glow flickered around her fingertips.

Amber took a half-step back, watching the alchemist with genuine respect.

The mixture began to simmer, releasing a cool, refreshing vapor that curled up through the silver condensation coils. The sharp metallic smell of the cleanroom vanished, instantly replaced by the soothing fragrance of morning rain and crushed pine needles.

Slowly, drop by drop, the condensed vapor collected in a chilled glass beaker at the end of the line. It thickened rapidly, cooling into a smooth, luminescent emerald ointment that shimmered with soft inner light.

After thirty minutes of steady boiling, exactly five hundred milliliters of the vibrant green salve filled the beaker. Calista cut the heat, letting out a long, trembling breath as she stepped back.

"The pilot distillation is complete," Calista announced softly. "Now we test if the numbers were right."

She powered on the optical purity spectrometer for the very first time. The device let out a melodic chime, its internal fans whirring to life as a pale blue laser pulsed across the central crystal prism.

Calista lifted a glass micro-pipette, drawing a single droplet of the emerald salve and depositing it directly onto the sensor lens. She lowered the vacuum lid and pressed the scan button.

The cleanroom fell completely silent as the machine hummed, analyzing the light refraction through the compound.

Three seconds later, the high-resolution monitor on the machine flashed bright green with the test results:

[SAMPLE: STAR-JADE CELLULAR REGENERATION SALVE (PILOT BATCH 01)]

[ACTIVE REGENERATION HARMONIC: 99.8% — GRADE-FIVE]

[CELLULAR TOXICITY RATING: 0.00%]

[ALCHEMICAL STABILITY INDEX: OPTIMAL]

Calista stared at the glowing text, her lips parting as her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled against the edge of the granite counter, her eyes welling with sudden, overwhelming emotion.

"Ninety-nine point eight percent," Calista whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Zero toxicity, and the compound stabilized with complete molecular harmony."

Amber let out a bright laugh, stepping forward and clapping a firm hand on Calista’s shoulder. "Of course it worked! You spent weeks obsessing over those notes on Floor 80."

Evren smiled warmly, walking up beside them. "You did an incredible job, Calista, and this breakthrough will change the entire medical market in the capital."

Calista wiped a stray tear from her cheek, letting out a breathless laugh as she looked down at the beaker. All the tension that had gripped her shoulders since morning finally melted away.

Right on cue, a loud, distinct rumble echoed through the quiet cleanroom. Calista froze, her face instantly turning bright red as she pressed a hand over her stomach.

Amber burst into hearty laughter, resting her hands on her hips. "Turns out making revolutionary medical breakthroughs makes a person starving."

"I was so nervous this morning that I didn’t eat much at breakfast," Calista admitted in an embarrassed mumble.

Evren pulled out his phone with a faint chuckle. "I’ll take care of it right now. Let’s see if there’s a nearby restaurant that can deliver hot meals. Then we go over what you’ve done so far and what’s left."

He quickly placed an order for roasted poultry, warm herb flatbread, savory vegetable soup, and chilled fruit tea. The screen flashed an estimated delivery time of twenty-five minutes.

Beside him, Amber untied her lab coat and hung it back on the wall rack. "Well, if you two are going to be busy eating and reviewing numbers, I’m heading back to Meridian Tower."

Evren raised an eyebrow. "Going to check on Zephyra?"

"Yeah, I want to see how Z is doing and rest a bit," Amber said with an easy grin. She paused at the door, glancing between Evren and Calista with a playful gleam in her eyes.

"You two will be fine here on your own, right?" Amber teased. "Don’t stay out too late, and make sure you come back in time for dinner."

"We’ll be fine, Amber," Calista replied with a shy smile, giving her a small wave.

Amber flashed them a parting wink and stepped into the elevator, leaving Evren and Calista alone in the cleanroom.

"We shouldn’t leave the pilot batch sitting out," Calista said, turning back toward the granite island. "It needs to be sealed and transferred to cold storage while the coils cool down."

For the next twenty minutes, they worked side by side to tidy up the preparation lab. Calista carefully poured the smooth emerald salve into sterilized jars, sealing each lid with airtight wax-film before labeling them.

Evren helped her store the sealed jars in the temperature-controlled preservation locker, while Calista synced the spectrometer’s telemetry logs to her tablet.

They wiped down the testing island, powered down the ventilation hoods, and stepped out through the sanitation air-shower.

Just as they hung up their lab coats in the outer corridor, Evren’s phone vibrated with a delivery notification.

"The delivery driver just pulled up to the front entrance," he said, glancing down at his screen with a smile. "Perfect timing, so let’s go grab our lunch and head up to the terrace."