The dead of night finds me back at the forge.
It's well past three in the morning, and even Doran is nowhere to be seen. Perfect. As much as I appreciate some company, there are some things I'm not ready for anyone else to witness, and Mana Infusing is at the top of that list.
Grabbing a fragment of Beacon's impossibly light steel, I start experimenting, trying to channel my energy into the material. For what feels like an eternity, I just stare at the piece of metal, willing something—anything—to happen.
[Mana Infusing] Lvl 1 (80%)
Yeah, no.
Frustrated, I fall back on my own tried-and-true method. Drawing the steel's edge across my palm, I watch as a few drops of blood seep into the material.
Enhancement Successful!
The quality of the material has been improved slightly.
Dustborn Steel:
Resistance 12 > 14
Malleability 9 > 10
[Mana Infusing] Lvl 2 (30%)
The rush of satisfaction is immediate, but bleeding myself dry to level up a skill isn't exactly sustainable. Still, it's progress. I file the method away for later experimentation and turn my focus back to the forge.
The piece of steel I've enhanced becomes the foundation of the barrel, the most critical part of the weapon. It needs to be precise—capable of directing the bullet's path while withstanding the raw force of every explosion. Heating it to a glowing red, I carefully shape it around a rod, watching the metal bend and flow under my hammer like molten clay.
With the barrel complete, I turn to the frame—a bit of a challenge.
Fortunately, the forge is littered with discarded examples. I study them for a while, committing their structure to memory. But even with the blueprint in my head, the work is painstaking. Hours blur together as I heat, hammer, and shape, my focus narrowing to the glowing steel in front of me. My first few attempts are awkward, the metal refusing to yield the way I need it to.
By the end, I've crafted a frame that feels solid yet balanced—powerful without being too rough.
The slide is the final component I dare to forge myself.
My hands, slick with sweat, are starting to tremble a bit, the delicate work becoming harder to manage. A misstep with the power hammer nearly shatters the entire piece, forcing me to step back. I reach for one of my no-sleep pills. The bitter tang of it dissolving on my tongue makes me grunt, but the rush of clarity it brings is worth it.
Once the slide is complete, I gather some solid internal components. Piece by piece, the weapon comes together in my hands. When the last screw is tightened, I hold it up to the light, examining the product of my sleepless night.
It's not perfect—far from it. The weapon is a simple handgun, elongated for precision and range. Compared to [The Contender], it's almost laughable in its limitations, but that's the point. This isn't a weapon to kill, it's a tool to test my skill and take advantage of my Semblance. I need to learn.
For the final test, I load a few magazines and set up a sandbag as my target. The first shot cracks through the air, followed by a second, then a third. The impacts fall tighter with each adjustment I make. By the end of the session, the weapon is zeroed in and functioning exactly as intended.
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RWBY - Child Of Light
FanfictionUnwilling to let all of his creations fall to ruin just because of Salem's whims, the God of Light intervenes to put a new pawn in the game. Taking on the life that should've belonged to Jaune Arc, Vesper will soon find that this world isn't exactly...
