Oswin takes the black clipboard off the front desk, scribbling in Sylvia’s ID code first, then his, then the time. After placing the clipboard back on the counter, Oswin quickly moves to Sylvia, who’s rounding the corner to their lab.

Reaching the entrance, Sylvia takes out her ID badge, moving to scan it on the panel by the thick metal door, but Oswin beats her to it. He steps in and opens the door for her—third time tonight.

She crosses her arms, flashing a smile. “I can open doors too, you know.”

“I know… I just like being useful,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

As she steps through, Sylvia taps his nose with her finger. “You, sir, are ALWAYS useful.”

Oswin smiles a goofy smile, then shortly follows Sylvia inside, heavy door slamming shut behind him. The door’s echo dies away, the surrounding halls settling into silence.

Seconds later, the silence holds, even when a bit of black cape peeks through a corner. Carefully, Javier slides around the hall, eyes finding and narrowing at the closed lab door.

Sylvia waves a hand in front of her, activating the motion sensitive lights. The familiar room comes into view, computer monitors lining the walls, blueprints on tables, scent of disinfectants in the air. The faint hum of their robotic prototype leaks from the back of the room, but otherwise the place is empty.

Oswin moves some papers on a table, looking them over. “Guess he’s not here today after all,” he says.

Sylvia picks some others up, looking over the various notes and diagrams. “Unlikely,” she says, flashing pages filled with highlighted sections. “I swear, Cormac lives in here.”

Outside, Javier kneels by the door, ear pressed against it. He grits his teeth, unable to hear anything past the thick metal. This won’t do either, he NEEDS to keep his eyes on them. He pulls back, looking over the door, trying to find some weak point, something he could do without giving himself away, no closer to solid answers.

Finding nothing, he pats down his body, digging for ideas. Checking, double-checking, triple-checking for anything he might have that might—

He pauses. He looks down at his left arm. He considers… “it.”

It’s risky.

It’s crazy.

It’s locked.

He’s tried to practice it before, but it’s just so… strange. And now? He’s got to consider this now?!

One second. Javier just needs one more second to make this choice. But he doesn’t get it, because then… the silence around him shatters, footsteps approaching.

The tall Dr. Cormac strides calmly through the hall, the loose empty sleeves of his lab coat shift as he walks. His white beard and steady gaze lend him a quiet authority, the kind that makes his students pay attention in class.

When he arrives at the lab entrance, the metal door is just as it should be, the tiled floor around it neat and undisturbed. He leans close to the panel, scanning his ID card sewed into his shirt. As he does, his view naturally moves to the floor, where he spots something: a faint footprint of dirt.

“Hm?” Dr. Cormac quirks an eyebrow.

Around the corner, Javier lays flat against the wall, holding the ends of his cape close. His eyes look forward, doing his best to remain still. They briefly flick to the front desk, a black clipboard resting on the counter, an idea forming.

Dr. Cormac kneels down, getting a closer look at the dirt. He balances himself on just his feet with practiced ease, shooting a look to his left, then his right. Pushing up with his legs, the doctor stands back up, squinting his eyes at his surroundings. But then he looks back at the dirt, which trails into the door, not away.

With his attention on the lab, Dr. Cormac lowers his weight a bit, waiting for the panel to beep. When it finally does, he carefully pushes the door open, right foot gently pressing against the pedal at the bottom.

Entering the room, Cormac walks in slowly, his body coiling in, legs tightening, ready to strike.

“Hello? Is someone…?”

“Doctor!” Oswin turns around, his bright voice breaking the tension. “You ARE here, after all!”

“Ah, Oswin!” Dr. Cormac says brightly, his posture immediately relaxing as Sylvia and Oswin each greet him with a warm hug. “What brings you two here? It’s the weekend, figured you’d be busy elsewhere.”

“His fault,” Sylvia says with a sly nudge, gesturing to Oswin, who shrugs with a grin. “So doc, what’s been keeping you busy tonight?” She crosses her arms, leaning slightly against a table. “Hiding something?”

Dr. Cormac laughs. “Not at all,” he starts, walking to the furthest table. “I was actually just testing out Oswin’s new program for Nuclei.”

Sylvia and Oswin follow Cormac, moving towards their blue prototype at the back of the room. The Robo’s chest cavity is open, the robotic internals exposed, power cell humming freely. Its large arms rest on its side, Nuclei’s bulky form vaguely resembling a humanoid shape.

“Did it work?” Oswin asks.

“Partly,” Dr. Cormac responds. “Seems the Robo is indeed able to gather the residue and compress it into a more compact shape. However, it does require a lot of force. Which, for us, means lots of energy. But the good news is the result stays intact.”

Sylvia listens intently, tilting her head to get a better look at their blue machine. “That should be fine,” she says. “Efficiency isn’t our biggest priority right now; we can always iron out that part later.”

Dr. Cormac nods, turning to a wide table nearby. “I’ve been compressing lots of residue today, letting the resulting crystals sit around for a while. See if they keep their form. So far, this seems like it might be the ideal shape, these crystals.”

Oswin smiles at that. He looks over the table, which has several small crystals on it. “And this is how they’ve been turning out?”

Sylvia steps to the table, drawn in by the sight of the first products from their special Robo. She picks up one of the smallest crystals, holding it carefully in her fingers. She brings it close, studying its jagged but beautiful surface.

“So, they keep this hardened form,” Sylvia murmurs, gently squeezing the crystal to feel its hardness. “Brittle enough to break with the teeth, but we’ll have to adjust that later too, make it even softer.” She sets the crystal back down, a thought occurring. “What about the actual healing gas? Have you tried to see how that affects the crystallization?”

Dr. Cormac smiles warmly, Sylvia’s curiosity palpable and infectious. “I figured we could get on that after this weekend, but since you two are already here…” He approaches another table, this one with vials of blue gas. “Sylvia, mind doing the honors? Your hands are steadier than mine, mostly because you still have them.”

Oswin chuckles at that, maybe a bit harder than he intended. Sylvia lightly chuckles herself, rolling up her sleeves.

“You’re terrible,” she teases.

Sylvia very gently and carefully picks up a vial. With the glass in hand, she carries it to their Robo, slowly lowering the small tube onto Nuclei’s chest. While Oswin and Cormac pay close attention to Sylvia, tracking her every movement, something stirs behind them. Something tries to slip through.

Near the bottom of the thick lab door, a small black rectangle is pressing into the metal. Then, it fully passes through the door, entering the lab, its edges flickering with a faint purple flame.

On the other side, Javier grits his teeth harder.

His left arm trembles, wrapped in the same ethereal flames. He’s holding a clipboard, half-sunken into the door along with his hand. The fire ripples and distorts against the steel, like it’s fighting against the metal, forcing open a space where none should exist.

His breath stutters.

This… is actually working.

Slowly, carefully, he leans forward, pressing his ear against the thin plastic of the clipboard. The moment he makes contact, a sound bleeds through, muted at first but then clearer: The low hum of machinery.

Javier exhales shakily, his entire body quivering as he forces himself to stay like this.

It’s unstable.

It hurts.

But it works.

Sylvia focuses entirely on the task at hand, her fingers steady as she carefully secures the vial in place. The hum of their Robo grows louder in response, drawing out a grin.

She takes a step back, their blue machine closing its chest cavity. “That should do it.”

Oswin moves to a computer, turning on its monitor with a key stroke. “Can I start, doctor?”

“You don’t need to ask, son,” Dr. Cormac says. “This project is yours as much as it’s ours.”

Sylvia agrees with a nod, rolling down the sleeves of her lab coat. Oswin lets out a breath, typing in his password to unlock the computer first, then quickly navigates to the ARC (Axionite Residue Compression) program. Finally, with all the start-up commands added in, he hits the enter key.

Nuclei’s chest cavity then closes, its visors turning on with an orange light. Sylvia is a bit taken aback by the color, as it goes against the typical red of Robo emissions. “Orange?” she asks.

“I figured we should have something that stood out,” Dr. Cormac says. “Plus, I tried a more health-coded green, but it just didn’t look great against the blue. What do you think?”

“It’s different for sure,” she comments. “But it’s nice.”

Oswin moves around the monitor, joining Sylvia as they look over their Robo. For a moment, nothing grand occurs; their machine works away with the healing gas.

Then, a low rumble builds.

It starts beneath Nuclei, almost below its body, but then… the rumble turns, becoming a full rattle. The table starts shaking, the orange lights intensifying. Dr. Cormac draws back, turning to the fire extinguisher by the door.

Hearing Cormac’s sudden approach, Javier stiffens. The heat around him wavers. In a split second, the purple flames almost spill over, beyond him and into the lab.

He can feel a reflex strike: to let go of the clipboard. Instead, he grips it harder, fighting his instincts. He shuts his eyes, trying to find the flames, feel them around the clipboard, draw them in, out of sight. But it’s so difficult. The ghostly fire doesn’t answer him like his other energy does. It’s like trying to move a limb he can see but not feel; command something that should obey but just doesn’t.

Despite Javier’s struggles, Cormac doesn’t notice the stuttering flames. He’s far too busy anticipating new flames in front of him, not seeing the existing ones behind.

“Careful, kids,” Dr. Cormac says, opening the extinguisher box with his foot. “It might flare up a bit during the—”

On cue, sparks burst out of Nuclei. Oswin and Sylvia recoil, the spray nearly grazing their lab coats. The lights in the room flicker, the surrounding area seeming to strain.

On his side, Javier quickly notices the change, but within the same breath, he turns on himself. For that micro-slip of focus is enough to make his flames lash out, the clipboard warping first, its edges curling as they melt.

“Idiota!” he hisses. His thumb muscles spasm as he clamps down harder, pushing through the growing aches. His breaths come out uneasy, but they slowly do steady, dragging himself back in control.

Bit by bit, his aches settle down. Or maybe he just thinks they do. Because, regardless of perception, some pain is still there, something he can’t tolerate forever.

In the lab, Nuclei’s rattles spike, causing some of its robotic panels to spring open. Sylvia and Oswin stagger back further, fighting the urge to fix the Robo, as it sparks out even more.

“That IS a lot of energy!” Sylvia shouts.

Dr. Cormac slides his foot behind the bottom of the fire extinguisher, pulling his leg in to snap the tank out. Before he can hook his foot through the handle, Oswin is already moving, catching the handle and swinging the whole thing upright. Rushing to Nuclei, Oswin readies the extinguisher, anticipating the first flame.

Their machine suddenly stiffens, bending up over the table, spitting out another wave of sparks. Oswin’s hand moves over the handle, preparing to discharge, while Sylvia takes a step forward. She narrows her eyes, tightens her legs in place. Her eyes flick to the large tables, the computer towers, Nuclei’s rise—calculating what might lash out and how she’d bring it to a dead stop with one palm, her muscles already contracting.

Nuclei jerks once, twisting, letting out more sparks, its orange lights quivering. But the sparks start to falter, their arc over the table pulling in. The Robo’s body slides back down onto the table, as if it was regaining its calm. Its body vibrates gently, the harsher movements gone, what few sparks remain barely cross its arms. The internal hum lowers, the overhead lights flicker unevenly, but with greater pauses in the light.

As the seconds pass, the lights above become solid. Nuclei’s vibrations slow down, the table settles back into place. As Nuclei’s body fully stills, its orange lights finally steady, with some of its open panels closing by themselves.

Oswin exhales, gently letting the extinguisher down, resting it by a table. “I think… we’re clear.”

Sylvia slowly nods, her muscles loosening, tension leaving her frame. A faint hiss escapes Nuclei, its chest cavity opening out. A fog of cold air flows out from the machine, drifting out into the lab, swirling around Sylvia’s legs. She lets out her own quiet breath, whispering, “Caress the mess.”

Dr. Cormac moves toward the motionless Nuclei, Sylvia and Oswin following closely behind. The cold air clears, and there, at the center of their machine, lies a new object: A small crystal, pulsing with a blue glow.

“Woah…” Oswin murmurs.

Sylvia leans in, drawn by the glow. “It’s a bit smaller with the gas in it,” she comments, reaching out a hand as if to touch their creation. She stops at the last second, then glances at her comrades. “Should I…?”

“Just… be very careful,” Dr. Cormac says, voice quieter.

Sylvia eases her hand into the Robo, inch by inch, her fingers gently touching the crystal first, then gently curling around it. It’s cooler than the air around them, almost weightless between her fingers as she pulls it from the machine. She brings it up closer, the ceiling lights reflecting on it, making the crystal shine in her grip.

“It’s really beautiful,” Sylvia utters, gazing at their product in awe.

Oswin can only nod in agreement. He gradually smiles and comes to Sylvia’s side, sliding his arm around her lower back as he joins the quiet appraisal. She beams, leaning her head on Oswin’s shoulder as she keeps looking at what they made, almost as if she needs a constant reminder that they’re finally here. Finally holding real, tangible results.

Behind them, Dr. Cormac is standing still. Only after a full minute does a long-held tension—something so internal and constant that he almost forgot it was there—finally leave him.

Pride doesn’t hit Dr. Cormac, not yet. Just… shaky relief. And it’s only when that relief pulses through him that Cormac comes forward, allowing himself to fully appreciate what they just achieved.