Chapter 16: The Ticking of the Tilt
The next morning, Lance and Opal returned to the Forgotten Debris Vault, their focus sharpened by the revelation of the Aetherium's hidden blueprint. They were searching for more Mundane textbooks or artifacts with the specific plasticized cover that trapped the ancient language.
Proffit, their silent supervisor, assigned them to a new, more dangerous section: The Containment Field Remnants.
"These items were used in the original Aethelgard project," Proffit mumbled, adjusting his mask. "Highly corrosive residual energy. Do not, under any circumstances, puncture the copper casing."
The new section was a mountain of enormous, discarded equipment, piled thirty feet high. The largest pieces were massive, hollowed-out copper spheres that looked like oversized diving bells, riddled with small holes. Lance realized these were the remnants of the original Stabilization Field Generators.
"This is impossible," Opal whispered, staring up at the precarious stack. "How are we supposed to sift through this without everything tumbling down? It looks like one wrong touch will start an avalanche."
Lance immediately saw the danger. The debris wasn't piled randomly; it was a complex structure of rusted metal and brittle artifacts, relying on friction and specific pressure points to maintain its height. It wasn't a magical threat, but a purely physical one.
"We don't sift from the bottom," Lance determined, his mind going into engineering mode. "We need to clear the load-bearing supports at the base with extreme precision. The structural integrity is the biggest weakness here."
Opal set up her scanner console, trying to get a baseline reading. "My scanner says the entire structure is resting on three pieces of copper pipe that look like they're about to snap. If we move Item 6B—that massive, half-sphere—everything collapses."
Lance grabbed a long, thin, insulated metal rod provided for moving smaller items. "We need to create a small, localized shift without altering the overall pressure. If 6B is the anchor, we need to destabilize a minor counterweight."
He pointed to a small, heavy piece of magnetized stone—Item 9D—resting precariously three feet above the floor, leaning against the main support column.
"I need to push 9D off its perch, but I need to do it so slowly and precisely that the main column doesn't even feel the shift," Lance explained. "If I push too hard, the momentum will be transferred to 6B, and we'll be buried."
Opal understood immediately. "But your Siphon power is weak. You can't generate the force, and the tongs aren't long enough to reach 9D."
Lance nodded, looking at his Matrix. He had to use his nascent precision skill not for containment, but for directed, minute force application—a form of controlled, tiny magical push. He had to push his growth again.
He took a deep breath, focusing his mind on the small, insulated rod. He pushed his concentration into the tip of the rod, visualizing the Silverwoods stillness—the pure, directed calm—not to generate force, but to make the rod itself an extension of his will.
He wasn't trying to make the rod move fast. He was trying to make it move perfectly.
Lance extended the rod, the tip hovering just inches from Item 9D. He exerted his control—the full extent of his hard-won 5% precision—into the air gap between the rod and the stone.
Instead of a blast of Siphon energy, a tiny, almost invisible wave of pure, condensed precision force materialized. It was a pressure wave so small and so perfectly directed that it only hit the stone, bypassing the air and the copper support behind it.
Click.
The small stone (Item 9D) shifted just millimeters, losing its frictional support, and fell silently to the floor. The copper support column next to it didn't even wobble. The massive, thirty-foot pile remained perfectly stable.
Lance let out a slow breath. He hadn't mastered raw power, but he had mastered the exact amount of force needed for the job.
"You did it," Opal whispered, relieved. "It didn't even tick. That was pure... calculus."
"Precision," Lance corrected. He had successfully used his power for an external, physical manipulation, not just dampening. This successful, minute force application pushed his growth to 6%.
With the counterweight gone, the massive Item 6B could now be safely removed. Underneath it, half-buried in gray dust, Lance saw it: another Mundane textbook, its cover glossy, plasticized, and reflecting the dim light—just like the first.
Lance carefully used his tongs to lift the second textbook, placing it on the workbench. It was clearly another piece of the Ancient Puzzle, waiting to be decoded.
As he turned to continue sorting, Proffit finally spoke, his voice dry and distant. "Impressive stability, Silverwoods. You should consider structural engineering." He paused, then added: "Just watch for the Reroutes. That pile has a habit of moving when you're not looking."
The simple comment sent a chill down Lance's spine. The physical collapse hadn't been the only danger; the Aetherium's structure itself might be unpredictable.