The time had come.
Vokey crouched near the door, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He held a piece of his tunic, ripped from the hem. It was soaked in the foul, acidic water. His other hand hovered over the pungent corner of his cell.
This was it. His silent, chemical coup.
He heard the scrape of boots outside. The heavy clank of the peephole cover sliding open. A sliver of light cut through the gloom.
Now.
He plunged the wet rag into the latrine corner. The reaction was immediate. A sharp hiss. A bloom of heat against his skin. He shoved the fuming cloth against the peephole. A plume of noxious, eye-watering gas shot through the opening.
Victory.
Then, he saw a finger. The guard's finger. It moved with deliberate calm. It traced two sigils in the air, one overlapping the other. The first glowed with the cool, azure light of Water. The second pulsed with the gentle, orange warmth of Fire.
Where the two runes met, the air itself twisted. The tension between elemental heat and cold resolved into a perfect, controlled vortex of air.
Fwoosh.
A clean, gentle breeze—the very essence of Wood born from Water and Fire—blew from the peephole. It pushed the ammonia cloud back into Vokey's face. His eyes screamed. His lungs burned. The gas, his brilliant weapon, scattered harmlessly into the cell.
The guard chuckled. A low, rumbling sound. "Nice try, wizard. You almost made me blink."
The peephole slammed shut.
Vokey was left coughing, his eyes streaming. He stumbled back, collapsing against the far wall. Stunned. Defeated. Again.
His grand plan, foiled not by a simple spell, but by a fundamental principle of this world's magic.
This System was useless. Utterly, completely, and fundamentally useless. All it did was take up space in his head. Precious space. Filled with lists of nonsense.
Sulfate. Nitrate. Permanganate. Chromate.
The names of polyatomic ions cycled through his memory. A litany of garbage. Knowledge without power. Theory without application.
He was a walking textbook with no hands to write.
Then, a chime. Soft. Almost gentle.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
SYSTEM ALERT: Your persistent application of the scientific method, despite repeated failures, has been noted. Your tenacity is... commendable. A consolation prize has been awarded.
Vokey's head snapped up. A prize?
REWARD GRANTED: Basic Laboratory Equipment Starter Kit.
A flicker of hope ignited in Vokey's chest. Finally. A real tool. Something he could use. Something tangible. Could he summon it? Manifest it from pure thought? Was this the moment the System finally became useful?
The list appeared in his mind.
Beaker (50 mL)
Graduated Cylinder (50 mL and 100 mL)
Graduated Pipet (10 mL)
Volumetric Pipet (10 mL)
Buret (50 mL)
Funnel
Yes! Precision. Accuracy. The instruments of a true practitioner! "System," he breathed, his voice hoarse. "Grant me the tools!"
To claim your reward, Vex's voice stated, with that same infuriating neutrality, please place your order.
Order?
A one-time credit has been applied to your account at GenericLabEquipmentSurplusStore.EarthInternet
Silence.
Vokey stared into the darkness. He did not scream. He did not rage. He just sat there, twitching, as the last remnants of his sanity packed their bags and quietly left the building.