Luceris sat cross-legged on the obsidian floor of the palace workshop, sleeves rolled up, hair tied with what suspiciously looked like a piece of fishing wire, and golden eyes glinting with manic determination. All around him lay the ruins of his latest experiments: shards of cracked magic stones, a blackened wall with fresh scorch marks, and one very dead workbench that still smoked faintly.
Sylas pinched the bridge of his nose as another boom shook the room. "Majesty, with all due respect—"
"Which usually means no respect at all," Luceris cut in cheerfully, not even glancing up from the glowing stone in his hands. His thin engraving tool danced across the surface, carving delicate lines of power. "Go on, elf-boy. Complain. It fuels me."
Sylas ignored the jab, his silver hair shimmering faintly in the lamplight as he folded his arms. "You have exploded seventeen magic stones today. Seventeen. Each one could have powered a city of humans for years. At this rate, the dwarves will mutiny, the Vampire Lord will faint from wasted resources, and Caelum and I will die standing too close to you."
Another loud crack echoed through the room. The stone in Luceris' hands vibrated violently, glowed far too bright, and then burst into a rain of sparkling dust.
Luceris spat out a shard that had landed in his mouth. "Eighteen," he corrected, squinting at his scorched fingers. "Write it down. It means progress."
Caelum stood further back, arms crossed, his expression set in his usual stoic mask. But the subtle twitch at his temple betrayed the fact he was this close to tackling Luceris to the ground and forcibly strapping him to a chair.
"Majesty," Caelum said, his tone deceptively calm. "You are engraving circuits into volatile stones that explode when unstable. Perhaps… distance yourself before one takes half your face with it."
Luceris finally looked up, his long blue hair slipping over his shoulder as he smirked. "Half my face? Caelum, be realistic. The universe wouldn't dare ruin this face. It would be a crime against aesthetics."
Sylas groaned audibly. "I am begging you, think of survival before vanity."
"No," Luceris said simply, turning back to his work. "Besides, do you think progress is born from caution? Absolutely not! Do you think the first person who discovered gunpowder said 'oh no, explosions are dangerous, better stop'? No! They lit that powder and went boom! And history remembered them."
"History also buried them in small pieces," Sylas muttered.
Luceris exhaled, blowing dust from the surface of yet another ruined magic stone. His fingers drummed on the floor, impatient. "These damn stones… they're too unstable. The circuits overload and—kaboom." He mimed an explosion with his hands, showering imaginary sparks all over Sylas, who glared at him.
Then, suddenly, his golden eyes lit up with that terrifying, world-altering idea glow.
"Wait," he whispered. "Wait. I'm using the wrong type of stone."
Sylas perked up. "Finally, a moment of clarity?"
"No, a moment of genius," Luceris corrected, scrambling to his feet. "The common mana stones can't handle it. Too fragile, too finicky. But Flame Stones—now those are tough. They generate natural energy, resilient under pressure. They're basically nature's batteries waiting to happen!"
Caelum frowned. "Flame Stones are rare. They only grow in the volcanic rifts near the southern border. The region is dangerous."
Luceris waved him off. "Danger is a Tuesday for us. Here's what I want: gather Flame Stones, have the dwarves cut them into rectangles—"
"Rectangles?" Sylas interrupted.
"Yes, rectangle," Luceris said firmly. "It's the most dignified shape. Squares are boring, circles are impractical, and triangles are just evil. Rectangles are perfect. Trust me. I am an engineer."
Caelum's brow furrowed. "You're an eng..ima?. You're talking about rectangles as if they're sacred geometry."
"They are!" Luceris snapped. "Rectangles will save civilization!"
Caelum and Sylas exchanged a long, suffering glance. Then Caelum asked, "And what do we do with these Flame Stones once they are cut?"
Luceris smiled sweetly. "Oh, just the little task of melding B-grade or A-grade mana stones inside them. Think of it like… seasoning."
"Seasoning?" Sylas echoed flatly.
"Yes! Too weak and the circuit fails. Too strong and—" Luceris mimed another explosion with enthusiastic hand gestures, "—boom. But if you balance it just right, it becomes stable. A perfect magical core."
Sylas stared at him. "So you want us to take rare Flame Stones, cut them into rectangles, and stuff them with mid-to-high grade mana stones… all for what?"
Luceris stood tall, spreading his arms wide. His voice dropped into the solemn tone of a prophet delivering scripture.
"To build the future. To build…" He paused dramatically, golden eyes gleaming, "…the DemonPhone."
Silence.
Caelum blinked once. "…The what."
"The DemonPhone!" Luceris repeated, spinning in a circle for emphasis. "A device that will let demons talk to each other across distances! That will let humans hear the voice of their king no matter where they are! That will bring stories, news, gossip, memes—oh, the memes!—straight into the palm of their hands!"
Sylas rubbed his temples. "I think you finally snapped."
Against all odds (and all their better judgment), Caelum and Sylas did as commanded. The dwarves grumbled and cursed under their breath, but they obeyed as well, chipping and shaping Flame Stones into smooth rectangular slabs. Inside, carefully melded, pulsed glowing B and A grade mana stones.
Luceris sat cross-legged again, cradling the finished product in his hands. It shimmered faintly, veins of power running across the carved surface.
He stared at it for a long moment. His golden eyes, usually sharp and mocking, softened slightly.
"So much work…" he muttered, running his thumb over the smooth edge. "So much blood, sweat, tears, and explosions. Mostly explosions. And finally… here it is."
Sylas leaned closer. "Does it… work?"
Luceris tapped it. Nothing happened.
He tapped it again, harder. Still nothing.
"…Maybe it needs a reset," he said quickly, shaking it upside down.
Caelum deadpanned. "It is a rock, Majesty."
Luceris glared. "It is not a rock. It is a revolution disguised as a rock. Show some respect."
Luceris suddenly thought, oh he forgot to add the magic circuit he built.
Finally, Luceris pressed the stone to his ear like a phone. "Hello? Yes, this is your king speaking. You are all beneath me. No, don't cry, it's only the truth."
Sylas smothered a laugh with the back of his hand. "Majesty, you are talking to yourself."
Luceris frowned. "Well, obviously it doesn't yet transmit. I haven't built the tower infrastructure. Or the network. Or the signal system. Or… anything else, really. But look at it! It looks exactly like a phone. Step one complete."
Caelum exhaled slowly. "Forgive me if I fail to celebrate a glorified paperweight."
Luceris wagged the stone in his face. "A rectangular glorified paperweight! Progress, Caelum. Progress."
Well to lit up the screen, he needs to add some little things to the circuit. This is magic programming.
That night, as the palace quieted, Luceris sat by his workshop window, gazing at the glowing stone resting on his desk.
He sighed dramatically, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "So much work, and yet this is only the beginning. Phones, lights, cameras, dramas…" His grin widened, sharp and feral. "This world has no idea what's coming."
Behind him, Sylas whispered to Caelum, "We are doomed."
Caelum nodded grimly. "Yes. But at least we'll be doomed in high definition."