Night settled like an aged fiend drinking fine, frigid wine.
Lariat worked beneath the cool light bulbs. Moonlight pricked through the creaking iron trapdoor at the corner section of the ceiling. It helped him see, and the chilly, fresh air that came through it calmed him.
Somehow, despite the bustling jungle of concrete and metal outside, the air remained crisp like that on the hill.
He tucked the investigation board into the furthest corner to make space for the dining table turned workstation. It took him more than an hour to dismantle the microwave he had bought, a task made more difficult by the insistent jolts of pain stabbing his obliques.
Finally, after a long while, the boilerplate infusion array that housed the microwave's mana converter popped out. Larger and more solid infusion arrays had far greater use than the simpler firewall-type ones, as they facilitated rapid conversion of mana into its various forms.
One of the largest arrays he had worked on could convert mana into potent solar energy and radiation.
The one inside the microwave converted mana into waves through thick coils of sigils crafted from calcite. Calcite behaved like a catalyst and was used in all forms of physical sigil creation. Its mana perplexity and malleability made it a cut above the rest. Handling the dull, grey pieces of calcite as if they were fragile newborns, he gently set them aside.
Any mistake, and his journey would end prematurely. Beneath the calcite were spindles of translucent fibre, mana threads. It took an average D‑ranked Awakened an entire month to spin half a centimeter of mana thread at a thickness of one nanometer. Here, he estimated more than forty meters' worth.
Because of their fragility, he drew upon his internal energy and fashioned crude gloves over his fingers to pull them out. The spindle behaved erratically, shrinking around his fingertips like a baby's hand squeezing at whatever it touched.
Calcite, when infused with mana, prevented this through its unique mana polarity.
Lariat heaved, straining his entire frame just to lay the mana threads atop the calcite sigils. That gave him, at most, fifteen minutes before the mana threads denatured and merged with the ambient flow.
"Fuck. This used to be easier," he muttered, shaking his head. He stood up.
After fetching his suit from the hanger, he placed it on the cleaner side of the workstation. Earlier, he had compartmentalized the space, ensuring that what shouldn't mix didn't.
A basement and a dining table hardly complemented each other, but it was the best he could manage. He separated the suit's jacket from the rest and turned it face down.
He hated the next part.
With a strained exhale, he gathered bundles of internal energy and guided them to his fingertips. Lightly, he tapped along the seams of the jacket. Sweat dribbled down like rain, yet he could only wipe it away with his free hand, lest something disastrous occur.
The process strained him beyond his limits, but the quiet mantra churning within his heart kept him anchored. When tremors zapped his abdominal region, he grit his teeth and stayed steady. After a minute that felt like a century, every seam on the jacket opened.
He didn't have nearly enough mana threads to replace the entire meridian structure of the jacket, but he knew a shortcut.
Using the mana threads' natural tendency to dissipate, he waited until they were on the verge of denaturing. Then he used the last of his internal energy to stabilize them, a method that would partially repair and rejuvenate the old threads.
He reached into the seams, removed the old power source, and inserted the new one. It was a thousand times less efficient than his previous model, but he couldn't acquire those anymore.
He had never needed to walk such a thin line before. With a perfect Gold Core, he could have powered the suit almost indefinitely so long as his reserves remained full.
Afterward, he repeated the same process with the pants. It left him trembling from head to toe. Sweat streamed down his face in waterfalls, and his clothes were drenched. It looked as though he had jumped into a pool.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the floor and gulped its contents. Despite being lukewarm, it froze his tongue. He welcomed the freezing bite; it cooled him.
"I'm too old for this crap," he said between huffs.
Next, he laid down the MCM mana board and slotted the infusion array into a hidden compartment.
Taking one deep breath to suppress the pain, he continued. The task ahead was simple. First, he double‑tapped the power sources, infusing a thread of his internal energy into them.
In response, the power sources glowed a bright purple. Internal energy, neutral in nature compared to mana, acted as a functional catalyst, producing synergy between the opposing forces swirling inside the power cores.
Their purple glow drowned the dark blue hues that washed over the basement. The suit's black fabric absorbed most of the light.
Lariat gathered the threads unfurling from the power orbs and guided them to the infusion array, a delicate process demanding absolute focus. The room around him vanished from his perception, leaving only the fluttering sparks dancing between mana particles. When everything clicked into place, the MCM mana board roared to life.
Its hum pounded in his ears like thunder crashing against distant shores. Dull light fizzled in and out of existence before stabilizing into a steady red glow.
At that point, the mana threads atop the calcite sigils reached their melting point. The magic binding them together began to fade. Lariat lunged forward, curling his fingertips faster than ever. Internal energy cradled the mana threads as he funneled them through the suit's seams.
Without hesitation, he traced three symbols in the air, a triangle, a square, and a circle, and fused them into a specialized rune known as Combine. He skipped several precise steps, but it would have to suffice.
Otherworldly light enveloped the space, alternating between pitch darkness and blinding brilliance, sometimes flickering between frequencies that didn't seem to exist within the normal plane.
Lariat's suit lifted into the air. The seams closed, and a thick layer of purple energy spread across it. All external components dissolved and merged into the suit in defiance of natural law.
The process culminated in a massive implosion that sent Lariat sprawling into unconsciousness. Shimmering remnants of raw power, dust no human should ever touch, drifted across the basement like falling stars.
The suit floated down gently onto the table, perfectly intact.