overclocking the core

The news of betrayal were dangerous for all of the Empire.

They all knew what was coming... what would inevitably happen to them, what would become of them- if they would not be able to fight back against the incoming wave of enemies from all sides, and the betrayal from within, then they would most certainly perish; they would certainly be lost.

Lost..
In the heat of it all.

Marcel, of all people, knew what awaits him; he would become a primary target for the elimination in what's to come - for the likes of Bruno knew him to be among the biggest threats that Achyon could present. With his family and all that he cared about to take care of, he could not afford to simply lay down and die. No... as long as he can do something about it, he would push until the very limit.

"Akrites."

"I will need your help with something."

"Something important."

Already he could know what Delisle might be talking about, but.. with all of it going on, did they have any choice but to focus on their future, to focus on what they can do?

It was that,
or death.
(Marcel Delisle)

The young man opened the path between the Delisle and the house of his, gesturing him to step inside before anything; he wouldn't know what the man came here for, but he knew that it was important.

So he would assist.

"Let us go inside, then.", he murmured, following along with Marcel himself, hands dug into his pockets.

Bruno...

Akrites always knew it would come to this, although he never voiced himself, for he would be portrayed as an instigator. How could Bruno pyr Aertas betray the Empire? Unacceptable..."

Mhm.

And this, this fact annoyed him greatly.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

The dreams of a better future lingered on his mind.

Quite often, he spoke to the others that pitied the likes of Celicia, that tried to approach the likes of Bruno with understanding.. and where did that bring them all?

To this situation.

Even now, he couldn't help but feel guilt for even feeling this way- he never had a hand in their betrayal, he never had anything to do with their decision.. but it still felt as if he allowed it to happen, as if he enabled it.

'What did you expect, Marcel?'
'I don't know. A happier ending, for everyone.'

Only now does he truly realize - there is no happy ending. Not for everyone.. and most certainly not for those that chose to oppose them in such manner; for the death of Matryona, they would pay. For this heartache..

They will suffer.

"--There was something.. unusual."

While Marcel only says that much, little by little his jacket slides of- so does his top; but when he turns to Akrites, the answer becomes very evident on its own.

A power core.
Right in the middle of his chest.

"I was supposed to die, once."

"Amelia ensured that I don't. This saved my life - and now, it feeds my heart with the energy it requires."

To keep beating.
And for him to live.

"I want.."

"To overload this core, and install new means of letting it power me up - and link it to my lightning mana."

"That way, it should push me further."

A task he cannot do alone- for reasons he explains soon enough.

"If I do it alone and I do a mistake - the moment I enter cardiac arrest, I won't be able to do anything. I'll die."

"That's why I need your help."
(Marcel Delisle)

Sadness, it was visible on the older man's face, and it is not like Akrites did not expect this; Celicia and him were childhood friends, after all, and he knew this.

Akrites knew more than some would believe, but for once, his subtlety paid off, unless...

Unless Marcel was grabbed by his nape by a not so delicate palm anymore, held firmly and tightly, the way your superior would hold you in the military; foreheads came together. Emerald hues glanced right into the man's own, piercing skin, flesh and bone.

For the following words, the young man's voice came off as distorted, rasp and hoarse, but his words? They were clear as day. Not one syllabus in his speech was unintended.

"Get yourself together, Captain. I will not accept that pensive look on your face. We both knew this would happen, but not one of us pointed it out, for the obvious reasons."

Captain?

Maybe Akrites knew more than Marcel himself, after all. Maybe...it was time for Marcel to leave behind an old man's regrets and find the shard of vitality that lied in them all. For one, he could see that the ire burned deep into the youth's heart.

Maybe there was some left in his own, maybe...

"We will prevail. Be it by nuclear storm or not."

Now, the nape of the older man was released, the pressure gone; it was obvious, even if he himself was a much stronger Magus. This was no time for jokes.

"Sit down and lay on the table. I will inspect the core and decide if it needs to be toned down or not in potency. We don't want your heart to be a ticking clock.", it was not even a pun. They did not have the time for such.

And so, he expects the man to do as he tells him to, for they will undergo surgery under his watch, a medic in trainee. After all, he was both an artificer and a medicine student, he was perhaps one of the fittest to do this.

"Tell me about what was placed inside of you and this crystal you got."

Of course, he would not simply operate without the necessary information.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

Is it worth bothering the scars of the old?

To move them to life once again.. sunder them apart, let them bleed and remind him of the aching pain that he once shut out. Is it worth it at all, when there's so much more before him that lies ahead... that would be no doubt painful?

He became a titan of a man.
But at the end, he was still a man.

With beating heart, with thoughts, and dreams, and hopes... and where most assume Achyon's people to be faceless grunts that work for the Machine, they were all people.

People that bleed, and sweat, and cry...

"--I have no more tears to shed."

Betrayal was not a new experience to him. After so many cast him aside and stabbed him right in his heart, this was no different- if anything, it was merely the repeat of the old. But.. it doesn't mean that it wouldn't hurt anymore.

Even this sudden expression, this grasp- it did little to truly move or bother Marcel.

"You do not know how it's like to kill someone you used to care about- or worse, someone you used to love."

Can't he see the countless scars on his body? Each scar telling a separate tale... of struggle, of woe and sorrow. Without a single word, these scars told the countless tales of an aging soldier that witnessed the worst that life had to offer.

Yet he lived.

"You do not know the feeling of their warm blood on your hands, the ushered whispers to your ear - some cursing you, some regretful."

Steadily does he take a seat nearby; his expression more neutral than anything else.

"And for your own sake.."

"I hope you'll never find out."

But that's not what they came here for. Where the core remains exposed, he remarks, already beginning to explain.

"It is the power core, similar to synthetics- constructed with arcanium for improvements."

"I want it to be clad in several lightning crystals, and runework to be improved, until I can exert greater amounts of mana."

"You already worked with the power cores." In particular, for the gun blade that they constructed. This..

Would be different, yet similar.

"Can you begin?"
(Marcel Delisle)

Word has it that you should not anger the medic that is about to perform surgery on you, but the Delisle manages to do so flawlessly. There are many things that the Fitz-Empress has to point out, he must, but...

That is not what they were here for.

With the older man now seated, Akrites leaned in to inspect the wound itself, to inspect it; the young man cringed and it was visible, nothing different from what Nidaz himself presented.

Maybe slightly different, but the concept was the same.

"I'll connect lightning crystals together after I chisel them and smooth them out, about five of them. A cast will be made to replace the current one of the core. The core will then be attached to the cast that has the crystals attached to it."

Akrites murmured for himself, reaching for a pen and paper, face red still; it takes most of his willpower not to snap back at the man.

He was older, he had regrets and scars, he's tasted the blood of friends and enemies alike.

But this was not the end. He must get himself together, for the betterment of the Empire, for the betterment of himself.

"Ideally, the core will draw in the energy of the crystals that will need to be replaced occasionally, mind you. Are you sure you still want to proceed with the surgery?", he questions, Akrites already fetching a pair of surgeon's gloves, after washing and dipping his hands into alcohol.

That hat of a cog was removed and set to the side, a hair holder now strapped around his head, the mask and safety goggles coming together. Akrites was aware Marcel would not back off.

That is why he was preparing. His question? It was a medic's courtesy.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

There was little to no hesitation when it comes to this.

Yet when Akrites remarks of the plan, there are some corrections that he makes- after all, correcting anything inside the core itself was not exactly necessary.

Quite on the contrary, it was already well made.

"There's no need to remove anything from the core itself."

"Your task is to align the lightning crystals to it, and connect it through runework - then, further enhance the core itself by the runework."

Essentially, this is somewhat based on the elemental runes- but it is far more complex in question due to the fact that it would be done on such complex mechanism..

One that is installed on the living human too.

"Begin the process."

"I'll correct and guide your runework along the way. Essentially, this is complex conjunction that combines working with complex mechanisms and living tissue alike."

A useful experience for Akrites.

"And yes, I'm sure that I want to carry on."
(Marcel Delisle)

With the gear already in place, protected and uninfected, Akrites started forth, through the glasses, Marcel's way; he squinted once, figuring out what the man meant by that.

Upon closer inspection, he can understand what the talk was about; fine craftsmanship was in place, clearly Amelia's work, although he would not yet comment on it.

"Essence syphoning.", it was not the first time he's done this, now that he's figured it out entirely - the work of connecting three essences together was much tougher.

But he was not operating on a live body.

And so, he exhaled heavily, allowing some steam to be blown away from beneath the mask; his fingers were drawn alongside the core, allowing thin threads of Mana to form on Marcel's Synthetic skin and flesh, starting the phases of Runeworking.

Acceptance, union, such were things that he strived for when itcame to this surgery. In another hand, the crystals were held, his focus redirected towards virtually carrying out the same process with the mass of crystals.

To empower the core of the Delisle's heart, without having it fried and leaving him dead on the table. This is a risk they both took, one as a responsible Captain, one without a medical license.

But there must be a reason to this.

And so, crystals were picked, one by one, Akrites' left hand planted before the core itself; with each crystal, elemental energy would start flowing throughout the strings of Mana he has created, thus offering their energy to further empower the core of Marcel, essentially boosting its capabilities to a further point, up to a limit or maybe even beyond it.

Too bad he was not operating on just anyone. That way he could have afforded to treat this as a scientific test, but not now, not here, not with this man.

The peculiar Runework allowed them to transfer the pure elemental energy into the battery, but Akrites knew and felt when it was time to stop and so, he would not cross the natural boundaries of the Arcanium inside the man's chest.

For one, even as a medicine student, he knew when and where to stop with infusing a body with Mana. They did not want the Sergeant to explode in many pieces.

"Tell me how you are feeling.", he said, muffled, through the mask, his focus still on the transfer; with each transfer of energy, a shard would shatter and turn into nothingness, azure hues of energy left behind, in his hand.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

It is a necessity.

To be pushed further in such manner, and to be aligned to something that could improve his performance out there on the field; after the near-death experience back on the expedition, he knew that he could not afford anymore mistakes such as these piling up.. and instead, he would need to ensure this does not happen.

Ever again.

Whereas the lightning crystals are used up in such manner, alongside with the practiced runework, he remains silent for the time being, watching intently as Akrites works; here, he adds his own piece to it all..

The runework that could be used in order to align this power and strength to the live circuits, the more complex technique that would no doubt be rather tiresome to work with, as well as dangerous. A single mistake in such could lead to unforeseeable consequences..

Ones that lead either to crippling injury or even death.

"It's going well so far."

There was no reason for it not to be going well. If anything, this was merely a taste of what's to come.. and the surging power that could come with it as well.

But he desired it, didn't he?

"You can carry on."

"No notable issues so far."
(Marcel Delisle)

Akrites' expertise as a puppeteer definitely had its hand in this work's success, for he was used to the subtle applications of Mana; however, the process continued, his head and expression unmoving, not like there was anything to see past his mask anyway.

Acting like a filter to remove impurities that resided in the crystals, his additional set of Runes would start stockpiling the particles of Mana that were not meant to enter his body - they could not flood the man's body with filth, after all.

"Keep me updated, as a double-check.", of course Akrites was in control. He knew exactly what Marcel felt, because he was in charge of the transfer and Runework. He was connected, in a sense, to the man's very soul, transferring and feeding it the energy in order to boost its potency.

Through technology, that is.

Straining.

Tiring.

Exhausting.

But he pushed forth, for he could not stop through this surgery, even if it resulted in him immediately fainting shortly after it was completed.

"Focus. You must focus.", he murmurs to himself, a low-pitched grumble audible coming from him; two crystals were now held in his palm, controlling the surge of energy that came through the core of Marcel. It may seem like he was hurrying somewhere.

But he was not. Akrites knew exactly how much energy he could conduct, how fast he could do it and how much Marcel's body could upstand. The young medic simply opts to do it so, and even if he drew more energy, he would stock in in the Runework's strings before allowing it to enter the man's core Pattern, not to flood it and create an explosion within his body.

Entirely controlled haste. Akrites was in control. He was the master. He could not fail, even if it caused him to frown and hunch his back ever so lightly.

It is just how he focused.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

Little by little,
piece by piece.

It would become something great that he bears with himself at all times- something that could prove to be a benefactor to not only him, but the Empire as a whole. Could he not see that the hidden strength inside this power core would be enough to wield the lightning and the storms to a much greater extent?

Even now..
Already he could see.

The rising sparks that appear in response to the runework connecting- the lightning that begins to course through his body; but it does not hurt Marcel in the slightest. Quite on the contrary, it seems to almost be a part of him.

After all, he learned how to digest magic such as this a long time ago.

"Interesting."

An unexpected result, almost, but a welcomed one- for while the runework continues over such details, he could already tell that it would end up being a fine addition to the arsenal of tools that he carries in order to deal with myriad situations.

A fine addition for the Empire.

"It seems we're at the end."

"Align the runework together in a circular manner. Make sure that it all feeds back into the core."

"Then, we should be set."
(Marcel Delisle)

With the final crystals coming into pieces and dissipating into nothingness, Akrites, the one acting as a filter between the crystals and the core of Marcel, would start modifying the Runes that connected the body of the man, to himself and to the shards.

It was slowly spiraled down over the core itself, allowed to merge with the item rested in his chest. Of course, the situation was controlled and even if he did anything wrong, Marcel was there to correct him and his mistake as soon as it was done.

There was no mistakes. He does not do mistakes.

"On it.", he murmured, starting connecting the Runes together, so that they are to drive the energy throughout the core and allow it to always be on the move, so that it does not reside anywhere and gets lost or even worse, crystalizes itself.

It will always be process, to assure that it remains in the form of Mana, pure energy. They could not risk crystals to form in the man's chest and perhaps injure him or his heart.

It would be devastating.

"This way, it should conduct the energy at all times, to assure it keeps its arguably fluid properties.", he explained to the man, although he probably already knew this.

Maybe he was validating these facts for himself.

However, when the process was over with, Akrites started neutralizing the impure Mana that has been connected, forcing it to dissipate somewhere by the window, so that an explosion is not created in the house.

Shortly after, he inspects his work and the general state of Marcel, seemingly tired but filled with temporary adrenaline.
(Akrites Fitz-Empress)

To make a mistake here would be a fatal experience.

With the contraption that is so closely connected to his heart, there was no room to make such mistake- if anything, the greatest caution had to be exercised at all times, guiding Akrites along on the path of constructing this runework to ensure that he would not make any mistake.

Thankfully, he was gifted enough to avoid doing that.

"Good."

The results, the design of it all.. it was well made, more than most could ask for- given his own control over the process, there was no doubt in his mind that it would turn out to be proper.

With the sparks of the lightning, and the ambient testing along with Akrites working, it was evidently clear to him that the process was a success.

"You did well."

"There are still tests required to this, but I'm certain that it would perform good enough."

Given the fact that he was also a trained, powerful magi.. there's no doubt in his mind that this power core would only serve being a further push towards what he desired.

"Thanks, Akrites."
(Marcel Delisle)