Rex burst out of the library's doors with the excitement of a kid about to blow something up on purpose.
He held the prototype gauntlet in one hand, the fire focus in the other.
"Alright," Rex said, practically vibrating, "time to test this!"
He slotted the fire focus into the crystal port and pointed his arm dramatically toward an unlucky tree.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
Rex blinked.
"…Huh?"
He tried again.
Nothing.
He shook his arm.
Still nothing.
He slapped the gauntlet like it was a broken remote.
Nothing.
In his head, Sage let out the longest, most suffering sigh known to the metaphysical world.
Sage: Rex… I will try to say this in the least insulting way possible… You are an idiot.
Rex: "HEY—!"
Sage: Shut up. I'm not done.
Rex shut up.
Sage: You missed two things. First: that fire rune imbues fire INTO objects, not OUT of them. Meaning all you've done is turn the gauntlet into a fire glove. A fire punch. Literally a flaming fist. That's it.
Rex stared at the gauntlet.
"…Oh. That makes sense—"
Sage: I SAID I'M NOT DONE.
Rex instantly shut up again.
Sage: Second: the focus is the medium between the rune and the spell. And what do mages use to make spells?
Rex thought very hard.
"…Magic?"
Sage: Exactly. Pure crystals don't produce magic. They conduct it. They are NOT generators.
Rex stared at the gauntlet again.
"…Then how am I supposed to use the focuses?"
Sage: I was getting there. Calm down.
You need to inscribe an absorption rune either ON the fire rune or UNDER the focus. Preferably under it, because you are far too inexperienced to overlay runes without exploding something important. Like your face.
Rex nodded furiously. "Right right—absorption rune under the focus. Got it!"
He sprinted straight back inside.
Lira, who had just taken a sip of tea, nearly spit it out.
"Velkohr—he's back!"
Velkohr looked up from his book.
"…He's leaving again."
Because Rex ran right OUT again, now carrying his carving tools, chisel kit, and an armful of rune references. He dropped onto the ground outside and started inscribing like a man possessed.
While carving, he said, "Hey Sage—how do I even activate the rune? You never told me how."
Sage: Look at the age of that rune book.
Rex turned it over.
There was no date.
None.
Just an old, cracked cover.
"…There's no date. Doesn't that mean it's recent?"
Sage: No. That means it's ancient. WAY older than the creation of modern calendars.
Rex froze mid-carve.
"…So is it unusable?"
Sage actually laughed. A cold, elegant, way-too-smart laugh.
Sage: No. It means it's more powerful.
Rex's eyebrows shot up. "How??"
Sage explained while Rex carved:
Sage: Back then, mages didn't use incantations. They used runes. Real runes. And those runes were simple—elegant—but combinable. They could merge into extremely powerful spellforms.
Rex nodded rapidly. "Okay but how does that make them stronger?"
Sage: Because ancient mages prioritized power over safety. Modern runes are built for peasants who don't want their hands blown off. Ancient runes weren't holding back.
Rex stopped carving again.
"…So ancient runes were made to be as powerful as possible?"
Sage: Exactly.
Sage paused… then added:
Sage: Also, an alternate way to activate a rune is to speak the element's name in the language the rune was originally written in.
Rex nodded. "Noted."
Then something clicked in his head.
"…Wait Sage. If runes are forgotten and lost to time and scholars can't use them… how the hell do YOU know how to use them?"
A long silence.
Noir began laughing. Loud. Mocking.
Noir: OH LOOK, MISTER 'ALL KNOWLEDGE' SLIPPED UP!
Big brain boy exposed! Hahahahahaha!
Sage said nothing.
Rex: "…So you DO know. Which means you—"
Sage: JUST KEEP CARVING.
He did.
Because now Rex had absolute proof:
Sage and Noir weren't imaginary voices.
They were actual souls inside him.
Souls that could one day try to take over.
He pushed the thought away and focused, finishing the inscription. The absorption rune glowed faintly under the focus slot.
Time for the test.
He slotted the fire focus again, raised his hand—
Nothing.
Rex groaned. "Sage it's still not working—"
Then he remembered the activation method.
"…Sage. What's the ancient word for fire?"
Another silence.
Then Sage — with a tone full of curiosity — answered:
Sage: Ignis.
Even Noir shut up.
They both wanted to see if Rex could actually use ancient runes.
Rex inhaled deeply.
And he spoke, voice echoing with a doubled, magical resonance that vibrated the air:
"IGNIS."
The focus flared to life, glowing molten orange.
The etched channels across the gauntlet lit up like burning veins.
And then—
FOOOOMPH
The entire gauntlet erupted in fire.
Rex's eyes widened.
"…YES—OKAY—"
He ran at the nearest tree, pulled his arm back—
WHAAAAM!!!
The tree didn't burn.
It didn't crack.
It exploded.
Split clean in half.
The gauntlet also exploded — shards flying everywhere — but the protection rune saved his hand entirely, just like Sage designed.
Rex was launched backwards like a ragdoll and slammed into Velkohr's front door so hard it rattled the hinges.
He sat up slowly, hair smoking.
Then he looked at the destroyed gauntlet.
At the obliterated tree.
At the absolute carnage he just caused.
And he started smiling.
Not the oops I messed up smile.
The I just learned a god can bleed, so now it can die smile.
A smile that even freaked out the two murder-souls in his head.
Noir: "…Why is he smiling like that?"
Sage: I… I don't know. That's concerning.
Rex threw his head back and laughed like a madman.
"YESSSS—HAHHAHAHA—I DID IT!!!"
And somewhere, both Sage and Noir realized:
They might not be the craziest one in this body.