Early in the morning, I enter the Craft Zone, and passing between all this machinery, forges, people, and students, I reach the hall that leads to a single door at the end. This hall has a ceiling full of hundreds of lamps, each one different from the last. Some are smaller than my fist, others are bigger than me. None of them is the same, and there are just so many shapes. Circular, square, a halo, as well as some that even look like a crunched-up blanket.

Each of them also gives off a different type of light. Some are colorful, while others shine in varying shades of white or blue, ranging from pale to dark.

The sides of the hallway are lined with suits of armor as well. There are some made from metal, while others have clearly been constructed from wood, glass, stone, and various other materials. A few are even formed entirely out of mana, maintained by tubes that connect to them and supply them with mana.

Two of the armors are the size of multi-story buildings, reminiscent of Exoria from the 6th floor. These ones appear to be the most ancient of the bunch, but just like everything else, they seem to be well cared for.

I know I'm being watched. I sense someone observing me from behind the far door, but I’m still incapable of resisting the urge to examine everything, and so I slowly make my way over, though I'm expected, and someone is clearly awaiting my arrival. I move from armor to armor, taking a moment to admire and examine each one.

Some are straight-up trash tier, others are incredible works of art, but all of them show the effort the creator invested in their construction, even the worst ones. I also have a suspicion that the creator of some of the worst ones made some of the best. In that way, the pieces are a record of their progression.

After knocking on the door, made of an alloy containing dozens of metals, I wait while observing the pattern. The different colored metals have all been smelted together in a way that’s created a series of whirlpool-like patterns. Forming one large spiral, starting at the center and unwinding to the edges.

As far as I can sense, it doesn't seem to have any purpose other than design, or maybe some structural effect.

Since I’ve made an appointment, the door opens fairly quickly, and I enter, whereupon I find the Head Crafter of the Academy.

His office isn't all that big, and the reason quickly becomes clear. Most of it is being taken up by a massive forge that probably shouldn't be here, behind which the man is currently at work, dressed in little more than a pair of pants, his muscular body sweating as he hammers at a piece of metal.

The man's arm looks to be about as thick as my waist, and he has a mid-length bushy beard that sometimes catches fire, to which he mostly pays no attention, simply tapping at it to kill the flames.

It is really hot in there, and the walls show it. Some of them are twisted, as if they had begun to melt and then cooled off. The floor is full of droplets of metal that cooled there and stayed, causing the formerly dark gray stone floor to shine like a night sky full of stars as the light reflects off these droplets.

I don't want to interrupt him during his work, even though he opened the door, meaning he is open to talk. Instead, I pretend to be polite and wait, using the opportunity to observe his work.

Just a few seconds after entering, I also have to use my skills to deal with the heat that reaches me. It really is hot enough to cook me alive otherwise.

Five hours pass like that.

Only then does he stop moving, all the while showing no signs of being tired. He grabs a piece of metal shaped like a helmet with tongs and throws it into a barrel full of some weird looking orange liquid.

Surprisingly, the liquid doesn't sizzle as it touches the red-hot helmet, and instead, the helmet sinks to the bottom while the liquid shows no reaction.

Could I steal a bit of that liquid before I leave? The room is small, so maybe I could pretend to be passing by and...

"What do you want?" the man turns to me and asks directly.

Instead of answering right away, I step closer, moving toward the only table nearby, which happens to be full of half-finished, smaller items. I drop a bag on it, which I then open and dump across the table, revealing various ingots of metal, all of which the Head Accountant has told me are rare here, with special attention to the ones the Head Crafter has been complaining about, asking the Academy to buckle down and find some.

I spent two hundred thousand shards just to buy this pile, and there isn’t even much here.

And the Head Crafter asks again, this time with a different tone, "What do you want?"

"It's simple," I say, taking a step toward him and offering my hand, in which rests a mana stone, "I want you to help me finish the design."

Before taking it, he looks at me and does a few quick safety checks, only after which does he take it into his big hand. In his grasp, that stone looks very small.

For the next minute, he is quiet as he observes the design I etched inside the mana stone.

"What a monstrosity of an item," he breathes out, "I can see where the designer was going with it, but the core it would require shouldn't even possibly exist, not even mentioning how difficult it would be to connect it all. And even then, in the best case, it would be a weapon as dangerous to its wielder as those he wielded it against."

He observes it again, "Forget that. This thing would be more dangerous to the wielder than to the people it was used against."

"There isn’t any need to worry about that. It’s all been sorted out. I just need you to follow the instructions there and finish up the design of the main inscription framework."

"Finish up, he says. Hah. You brought me a pile of bones and asked for a living beast."

He grabs a piece of chalk and starts scribbling quick, rough lines onto the stone wall, lines similar to those inscribed in the mana stone. He looks at them for a moment, thinking, then he turns away from the board.

"First issue: the projected metal composition is fundamentally flawed. Once the real flow starts, the structure will fracture under stress. For this application, you’ll need a purpose-built alloy, possibly several, each designed to handle specific load and fatigue conditions."

He moves over to the forge, throws in more weird stones that seem to serve in place of coal, and stokes the fire until it roars.

"Second, while the mana stone you provided is of decent quality, it is unsuitable for blueprint encoding. To store the design with the necessary precision and stability, I’ll need a more specialized stone. I have a few in reserve, and I can have my apprentice handle the transcription."

He picks up one of the half-finished items from the table, tossing it back down with a grunt.

"Third, must the form be a sword?" He gestures toward the mana stone. "The configuration is incompatible and would complicate integration. There are other weapon types that align more effectively with the intended properties, including purely geometric forms. Like an orb, or a disc. With a few adjustments, I could even redesign it for a crown, a helmet, or some similar structure."

“If you want to, do it. As long as it’s something that might improve the function, I don't mind in the least.”

He straightens up, looking me dead in the eye. “For the kind of person who would bring me such a design, you’re surprisingly reasonable.”

“Thank you. One more question. Can you have it all done in a week?”

“I take it back. You’re batshit crazy.”

I open my left hand and drop a small ingot of metal onto the table. Just one.

It’s only as big as my pinkie and quite possibly heavier than Isabella. Just this piece cost me almost all my remaining shards. Three hundred thousand of them. It's a metal called Iridite.

As he looks between me and the tiny ingot, I know I have him where I need him. A minute later, I leave with our deal sealed.

Of course, it will be impossible to bring the design he makes back with me after the reset, but I already plan to memorize it as much as possible. Sophie should be of some help, too. Lately, she’s been experimenting with something similar to my mind storage. While I set aside a part of my mind to constantly focus on the information and keep it fresh in my memory, she works on something she refers to as a memory pocket.

Together, we should be able to carry it through the loops, inscribe it again, and give it to the Head Crafter for further improvement.

And even though I’m sure it might take years for me to actually make that item, when it’s done, it will be scary. I just hope the name ends up more like Fracture rather than any of the names the twins came up with, like Fractureer or Throngler.

----------------------------------------

The first lesson with Ari and Kays ends, and as Kays leaves with Melo, I meet Ari in the hallway, same as before.

“Did you try to kill me?” I ask her this time.

“You mean your cooking incident? We already talked about it. I should feel insulted, Assistant Professor Gwyn. If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn't be talking right now.”

“That’s what an unsuccessful assassin would say.”

“Think what you want, but I’ve told you before. Don’t underestimate the others, whether they’re Candidates or Examiners. They’ve survived this far, so they’re very resourceful.”

“As long as it isn’t someone at the level of Vice Director, I’m not worried.”

“Yes? And what if it’s Champion Dion who goes after you?”

“There’s no way he’s a Candidate or Examiner.”

“I agree. For the first few loops, I thought he might be. The Absolute is just that twisted. But after he died the first time and re-appeared in the next loop, it was confirmed he isn’t.”

“Unless he’s been faking his death.”

“So paranoid. I like it! That’s true, but Assistant Professor Gwyn, what if one of the Examiners or Candidates manipulates the Champion into killing you?”

“That would suck.”

“Not for long.”

“True. Is it you killing him?”

“Nope. And I have no idea who could do it or why. Whoever is must be twisted to the core to even pull something like that off.”

I stay quiet.

Ari giggles. “It’s funny, the look you’re giving me. Like you’re thinking, ‘And you aren’t that twisted?’ I can’t say I didn’t think of killing the Champion, even if only to see how many levels I’d gain before the reset. But in the end, I don’t know how, and with that person killing him, it’s too risky to try to get to the Champion now.”

“Does he start in the loop or appear here later?”

“Everyone starts in the loop, even if they show up at the Academy later. Champion Dion and his disciple begin in a small village north of the Academy.”

“Disciple?”

She sighs. “Aren’t I nice? Sharing so much information with you?”

“You’re only doing it so I’ll feel like I owe you and help you later.”

“Is it working?”

“A bit. But to the point.”

She giggles again. “The transfer student. That ten-year-old girl is his disciple. I suspect she might be a Candidate, but I’ve never tried to kill her. I think if I did while the Champion was alive, he’d just find and kill me. And every time the Champion dies, she starts to get very, very dangerous. Assistant Professor Gwyn, if that little girl is a Candidate or Examiner, she’s very good at hiding it and likely the strongest one. Isn’t that amusing?”

“Yes, and a bit twisted,” I agree.

“Will you kill her for me? If it’s you, I think you can do it.”

“Nope,” I say.

She doesn’t seem disappointed. In fact, she looks like she expected the answer. “I’ll try asking you again next time.”

“Not going to threaten me into doing it?”

“By threatening those people you’re weirdly friendly with?” she asks.

“Something like that.”

"But then you’d kill me, and I don’t want to die." Her six arms sweep outward in a theatrical display, as if mocking the idea. Then, with a slow and almost dismissive motion, she lowers them and leans back against the wall. Her posture is relaxed, but there’s a flicker of fire in her eyes. Playful, defiant, and just a little bit dangerous.

“I see. One more question.” I say.

“So greedy. Please ask,” she gestures.

“What triggers the resets?”

"This is highly valuable information. Just remember that I gave it to you freely. There's a Core linked to this Record, acting as its anchor. It can take any form: an object, a random stone, even a scrap of paper. If the core is destroyed, the loop resets immediately. If not, the reset always occurs on the twentieth day."

“Thanks for telling me.”

"That's fine. Let me tell you one more thing: after I finish killing the others and make it out, I'll find the real you beyond this record."

I stay silent, but she doesn’t continue. So I ask, just as she anticipates it, “And then?”

“That’s fully up to you.”

I stay behind as she leaves and think about her words. As much as her last sentence sounds like a veiled threat, it doesn’t have to be that way, at least not entirely. It feels more like she’s absolutely sure I’ll agree to cooperate in the end.

It’s safe to say she’s met others like me, “bugs”, in previous loops and has used them this way. To me, it might feel threatening. But for a native of this world, someone who grew up in the system, this would probably seem more like an incredible opportunity.

As much as there are risks, the idea of pleasing someone this close to godhood would be tempting. We haven’t seen much of the Rulers, but it’s already clear how powerful they are and how much someone like that could do for you.

Well, it gives me more to think about later. For now, there are two valuable pieces of information. In one of our future loops, I will definitely need to visit a small village north of the Academy.