Three days had passed since Zander, Sensei, and Seven arrived at Terra Vallis. The city was unlike anything Zander had seen before — a living fusion of ancient earth and forward-reaching modernity.
Massive stone archways curved like ribs over the main boulevards, each covered with thick vines and moss, pulsing with bioluminescent veins that glowed in gentle rhythms at night. Between the greenery, sleek metallic conduits carried power silently through the city, merging with the roots of the colossal trees that stood like guardians among the people.
The air smelled faintly of cedar and ozone — old nature meeting young technology. Every corner hummed with the soft sound of machinery hidden beneath layers of living growth, as if Terra Vallis itself breathed through its walls.
Zander had spent the first day simply walking the streets, absorbing the rhythm of the place. Sensei had told him to rest, to breathe. He'd even managed to connect with his family over holo-link — a short, warm call that grounded him again in who he was fighting for. But rest could only hold him for so long. By the third day, his hands were twitching for movement, for purpose.
That morning, Sensei appeared with that familiar half-smile — the one that always meant something was about to change.
"Come," he said simply. "There's someone you need to meet."
Zander raised an eyebrow but followed. Seven hovered silently behind them, adjusting his internal light to a muted silver.
They wove through the terraced streets, ascending gradually toward the mountain's core where the older structures sat — each one larger, older, and more intricate than the last. The people here moved slower, more deliberately. Every craftsman carried pride in their gait.
Zander could feel the hum of Force energy in the air. It wasn't raw power — it was refinement, discipline, the weight of centuries of craftsmanship folded into every wall and bridge.
Finally, they arrived before a structure half-buried into the mountain itself. Great iron doors, veined with glowing lines of blue and gold, stood shut. Above the archway, carved in precise strokes, were the words:THEROS – MASTER FORGE OF TERRA VALLIS
Sensei pressed a hand to the door. The metal hummed, recognized him, and opened.
Inside, the forge was alive.Not with fire — but with light.Furnaces roared silently, fueled by plasma cores rather than flame. Hammers struck metal under invisible guidance, automated arms synchronized to a rhythm only their master could hear. And at the center, a tall figure with broad shoulders and skin tinted faintly bronze turned toward them. His eyes glowed faintly beneath soot-streaked goggles.
"Theros," Sensei said, smiling. "It's been a while."
The blacksmith chuckled, removing his goggles and wiping his hands. His voice was deep, textured like gravel but smooth in tone. "If it isn't the wandering teacher himself. What brings you to my doorstep this time? Another broken blade?"
Sensei motioned to Zander. "Not broken — just ready for something worthy."
Theros's gaze turned, measuring Zander from head to toe. His eyes lingered on the sword hilts at Zander's sides, then on the faint gleam of the metal there — scuffed, cracked, worn with training.
"Show me what you've brought."
Zander reached into his pack and carefully withdrew a sealed alloy case. As it opened, light spilled out — the crystalline blue-white glow of Aetherium.
Theros froze. For a long moment, his face remained unreadable. Then, a slow grin crept across it. "You're telling me this came from the boy?"
Sensei nodded. "Won it in a duel against a Ligari youth."
That earned an impressed whistle. "Well, now. That's something you don't hear every day. Aetherium — real Aetherium — is alive, in a way. It remembers the hand that earns it." His fingers hovered just above it, not touching. "You can feel the pulse, can't you?"
Zander nodded. The faint vibration felt like a second heartbeat under the surface of the case.
Theros stepped closer, curiosity lighting his face. "Tell me, Zander. What do you want made from this?"
Zander hesitated, glancing at Sensei. "I've always used two blades. Something balanced. Light enough for movement but durable enough to withstand high-impact strikes."
Theros smiled faintly — not excitement, but respect. "Then I'll forge two. Twin blades, balanced and fluid — but worthy of someone who fights with Heaven's Duality Flow."
Zander arched an eyebrow. "You already knew?"
Theros chuckled, tapping the side of his temple. "I can read your stance, boy. Those worn blades you've been carrying might've served you so far, but they're half-baked junk compared to what this Aetherium can become."
"Half-baked junk?" Zander said with a smirk.
"Don't take it personally," Theros replied, grinning. "Every swordsman starts somewhere. But these—" he gestured to the glowing ore "—these will belong to you. Not tools you wield, but extensions of your will."
Sensei nodded approvingly. "That's more fitting. Zander's blades were always meant to evolve with him."
Theros turned back to his workbench. "Then let's make sure they finally do."
He began examining the Aetherium under a scanning light, murmuring calculations in an old dialect. After a moment, he frowned thoughtfully.
"This alloy is pure… but volatile. I can stabilize it, though." He reached for a metallic container from a side shelf and opened it. Inside shimmered fine shards of a black-gold metal that seemed to drink the surrounding light. "This," he said reverently, "is Mystralium. The only known element that can blend with Aetherium without corrupting its structure."
Sensei's eyebrows lifted. "You still have some left?"
Theros nodded slowly. "Enough for one experiment. I've never tried the fusion before. The risk is that it could consume itself in the process. But…" His eyes flicked toward Zander. "If it works, these blades will never dull, never crack — and they'll grow with you. The more your Force evolves, the more they'll resonate."
Zander's heart beat faster. "You mean they'd adapt?"
Theros smiled. "Exactly. They'd be alive, in a sense — attuned to you. But that's only if the forging doesn't tear them apart first."
"I'll take the risk," Zander said without hesitation.
Sensei sighed with a faint grin. "Of course you will."
Theros chuckled, shaking his head. "You're your master's student, that's for sure." He took a breath, serious again. "Give me two weeks. I'll need that long to align the molecular lattice and stabilize the Mystralium infusion."
Zander nodded. "I can wait."
Theros smirked. "You say that now, but the waiting's always the hardest part."
He paused then, studying Zander's posture once more — the quiet readiness in his stance, the tempered intensity in his eyes. "Tell me something," he said. "How does it feel? The Force, the Echelon… the thing inside you that keeps climbing."
Zander thought for a moment, then said quietly, "It feels like standing in the middle of a storm and realizing the storm is breathing with you."
Theros's eyes softened, a flicker of admiration in them. "Then maybe it's time your blades learned to breathe too."
The air grew still after that. Even the forge's low hum seemed to lower in respect.Then Theros gave a nod to Seven, who had been quietly scanning the schematics from the side.
"I'll coordinate with your AI," he said. "He can keep an eye on the stability metrics while I work. If something goes wrong, you'll know."
Sensei placed a hand on Zander's shoulder. "Good work today. Let's give the man his space."
They began to turn toward the exit when Zander stopped suddenly, eyes drawn toward a massive reinforced window on the far side of the forge. Beyond it stretched a valley encased in transparent plating, lush with vegetation — a jungle pulsing with motion. Shadows of enormous shapes moved beneath the canopy.
"Sensei," Zander said quietly. "What's that place?"
Theros followed his gaze. "Ah. That, young man, is the Eden Vault. A containment biodome that houses creatures from the old world — relics from the age before the Sky Wars. They capture the ancient beasts that still roam the wilds, too dangerous to be left free, too magnificent to be destroyed."
Zander's eyes gleamed faintly. "You mean… real creatures? Dinosaurs?"
Theros nodded. "Some would call them that. Others, something more. In there, nature never died — it just evolved differently."
Sensei gave a low hum, recognizing the spark in Zander's expression. "Don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking."
Zander's gaze didn't leave the biodome. "I want to train there. To test myself against something real. Something alive."
Theros blinked, caught off guard. "You'd walk into that?" he asked, half in disbelief. "That's madness, boy."
"Maybe," Zander replied softly, "but it's the kind of madness that makes you stronger."
Sensei chuckled under his breath. "You really don't know how to rest, do you?"
Zander turned, a faint grin touching his lips. "Not yet."
Theros and Sensei exchanged a look — the kind only older men share when they both know a younger one is about to do something reckless, but necessary.
Theros folded his arms. "If you're set on it, then do it after tomorrow. I'll arrange access for you. But don't die in there. I still need my bladesmithing legend to survive long enough to collect his weapons."
Zander nodded. "Understood."
As they walked out of the forge, the mountain winds swept through the streets, rustling the vines that draped the city's upper terraces. In the distance, the transparent walls of the Eden Vault shimmered beneath the sunlight like a sleeping giant — unaware that soon, it would become Zander's next battlefield.
Unseen from a nearby rooftop, a faint figure crouched in the shade — Raixin. His eyes followed Zander's every step, calculating, patient. The perfect predator waiting for the perfect moment.