Steam and steel surrounded her.

It was a little like home, what Inertia and her friends had created. A touch primitive, but that was to be expected when they’d had to build it up from nothing. If she had been home, she would have had a full array of specially tuned forges, furnaces and presses to build whatever she chose.

Not all of it was primitive, Inertia thought as she looked towards the sky. The buoyant airship still pleased her greatly.

Returning to her home aboard such a vessel would be a bit like the old days.

It would also be a wonderful way to great her little sister. Assuming Calamity was within the Forgelands when Inertia arrived. Her sister was as prone to fits of wanderlust as Inertia herself.

Perhaps it would be best to send word ahead.

Much as they often conflicted, there were few whose company she enjoyed more than her sister’s.

Her gaze shifted to the latest pile of materials to join her pile, then to the man who’d was responsible for adding such prizes. One of those few exceptions.

A human of all things. Not even into Hydra-soul. So weak and frail. So… interesting.

It had been a long time since she’d befriended a mortal. Not since before the rebellion.

And those days, she had been a different being. Simpler, foolish, not nearly as stubborn.

Again, her hand moved over the harvested scales that lay at the edge of her workshop. They’d extracted the truly valuable materials for other uses, of course. A tier five’s essence materials were far too valuable to use in the general crafts her people were doing these days.

Her people. A strange thought.

Inertia stopped, glancing over to where she’d been working on a design with one of her apprentices. Then she took in the busy surroundings. Nearly every one of the hundred people she could see worked for her. Most, on one of her projects. Not that she’d allowed them to do only that, of course. Much as the Forgeborn, there were those who were happy enough to only follow instructions and those who needed more freedom.

Those who needed freedom were given the less desirable tasks, though with encouragement to find ways to make them less so. A long standing tradition in the Forgelands. One she’d started to keep her sister from destroying critical infrastructure. It had even mostly worked, thought there was a reason Calamity hadn’t earned a new primary identification sequence even centuries later.

All those people, and they were hers. Her students. Even in the Forgelands, she had seldom felt such attachment.

Walking over to her friend, Inertia placed a hand on his shoulder, tilting her head slightly at how little he moved. Something he’d done in the last couple days seemed to have made him sturdier.

Interesting.

“Ah, hey, so, I was thinking, we’ve got all this material, and Fang’s been kinda overdue an upgrade, don’t you think?” he asked, eyes slipping towards their original collaborative project.

It had come a long ways since they originally built it, yet he was correct. It could use improvement. There was a certain fondness for the no longer simple machine. Not just for what it was, but for what it represented. A fusion of her and Percival’s intent, much like the fusion that took place in every Forgeborn’s heart, giving them life.

An appropriate symbol for the start of their friendship, and an excellent way to maintain it.

Inertia nodded, waving towards one of her nearby apprentices, one that mostly understood her.

The mortals here were much more intelligent than the ones she’d grown up under. And hard working too. Perhaps if her kind had been birthed in such a society, they wouldn’t have had to destroy it to gain their freedom.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Nails-things-to-the-wall-and-hopes-they-stick came over, tilting his head in a rough approximation of hers. An action she had found confusing at first, since unlike her, they had a much easier time expressing curiosity or confusion without engaging entire sections of their upper body.

The expressiveness was, perhaps, the one thing she envied about Calamity’s nearly human form. The speech wasn’t nearly so important, given how even a mortal could learn to understand Forgespeak.

As demonstrated by the fact Nails easily nodded along, repeating her instructions back to her as she delegated away her responsibilities for the next few mornings.

“Starting tomorrow,” Perry interrupted part way into Nails responding. “I have stuff that needs to be done today, but after that, I’m all yours.”

Inertia nodded once more as she glanced at the pile of leftover Sahevin Abyss Emperor.

The next few days promised to be most interesting.

Her gaze shifted once more to the airship hanging above them. Yes. They would work on the motorized vehicle to renew the fusion of their intent.

And soon… soon she would return to the Forgelands and her sister, to renew another bond, just as sacred.

Tresla was nearby working on a project of her own. No longer necessary for translation, that didn’t mean the smaller being was unneeded. Simply having her friend nearby felt as though it overcharged Inertia’s core.

It was good, Inertia thought, to have friends.

As expected, the next week passed with her and Perry working together each morning. His little one was often there, working on her own projects, though occasionally she’d help out with her magic or stop to ask questions.

Inertia enjoyed her exchanges with the little leaf-who-flies-eternally-upon-the-winds-within-and-without, though she didn’t understand why the girl had chosen such a strange primary identification sequence for herself when Bevel served perfectly well as a core for one.

Throughout the week, when not working on the improvements to Fang, Inertia helped her people improve the production process for the train engines.

After witnessing them in action, each of the neighboring rulers had wanted some of their own, and had made the necessary arrangements to supply the materials required. Alister had visited several times to update her on the incoming supplies and to let her know whether her own requests were being met.

They were, though several of her ideal choices had needed to be substituted.

That was understandable. Even preferred. One didn’t expect to cold start an entire industrial revitalization in the most isolated location on Ro’an and expect to get the best materials. That would’ve taken away half the fun.

It was honestly surprising that they’d supplied any of her first choices, but that was due to Spellford and the general untapped wealth of the mountains.

Several of those components made it back into Fang.

Inertia thought this should’ve made Calbern happy. Instead, the frustrating mortal was complaining.

“I do not mean to make an issue of it, master Percival,” he said, inclining his head in that way he did, completely wasting the expressiveness that made humans so interesting. “Yet it has been more than a week, and you had indicated it should take no more than five days.”

“Uh. Yeah, Inertia kinda got more stuff special ordered,” Perry replied, brushing at his face and leaving a streak of grease.

Inertia approved, though the slight elevation of Calbern’s eyebrow suggested he was… Inertia wasn’t sure, since the man failed to express himself properly. He often seemed overly worried about her friend’s appearance, so it was likely to do with that. “That is excellent news, master Percival. What then, might the new completion date be?”

“Another… two days?” Perry asked, glancing towards Inertia.

She gave it a few cycles thought, then held out her hand, wavering it back and forth. It would depend on a great many factors, not the least of which was whether they could make the air drop feature work as Perry intended.

That one didn’t rely on any of her special materials, though she knew it was meant to be a surprise.

Calbern didn’t respond, simply angling his gaze towards the disassembled motorcycle. Inertia wasn’t sure, but she thought he might be looking at it longingly.

Letting out a long billow of built up steam, Inertia shook her head and held up two fingers.

“Guess Inertia figures two days is fine,” Perry said, drawing Calbern’s attention back.

The man nodded, first to Perry, then to Inertia before striding away.

“That man sure does love his bike,” Perry said, shaking his head. “Surprised he doesn’t want to work on it himself.”

Inertia tilted her head, slightly, considering.

That… would be an acceptable compromise. She considered chasing down the retreating man, but knew it would be less disruptive if she got his attention another way.

Reaching over, she grabbed a compressed container of air they’d been using to test different methods to control the motorcycle’s descent. With a slight press, she deformed it. After all their testing to ensure the strength of their materials, she was certain it would be sufficient.

With an overhand toss, she sent it hurtling towards the man.

Even before it exploded, he was turning, eyes narrowing as he tracked the object moving in his general direction. Not that it would hit him. Inertia was hardly so poorly designed as to have that sloppy of aim. After three hundred revisions, her body was as close to perfection as any Forgeborn could make.

Instead, the improvised device exploded in the air twenty feet away from him, setting his too perfectly tailored cloths fluttering as Inertia beckoned Calbern back, pointing to the ground in front of her.

Nodding to herself, she tilted her head to the side as she looked to friend Perry, who was laughing for some reason.

Truly, her friend was so strange.