The Argo

The clang of metal echoed through the cavernous workshop like a battle drum, steady and relentless. Sparks flared and hissed from where heated alloy met arc-welded crystal, casting sharp glints across walls crowded with suspended parts, half-built constructs, and towering mechanical limbs. The scent of scorched ethersteel and oil thickened the air, humming with static energy.

 Lorith stood at the center of the chaos, his hulking crystal frame glinting in the amber overhead light. His massive hands moved with surprising precision, delicately slotting an energy conduit into the shoulder socket of a gargantuan construct that loomed on a circular platform: it appeared to be part spaceship, part artillery tank , and all menace. 

 "The Krucx crystals! Now!" he barked without looking up. Three scuttling automatons scrambled across the floor, nearly colliding as they raced to bring the requested part. One stumbled, dropping a piece with a metallic clang. Lorith's head snapped toward it, eyes glowing with sharp disapproval. "Careful you rust heap! Drop my tools again and I'll reprogram you to be a glorified footrest." The automaton squeaked in protest and hurried off, clanking nervously. 

 Lorith grunted and turned back to the task at hand. His hands moved with focused urgency as he muttered to himself, inspecting the curvature of a power core as it was socketed into place. "...Three stabilizers short on the left wing pannel. Reactive plating's only holding 82%- still not ideal. Need to reinforce the primary joints before ignition or the whole thing'll shatter on activation." He stepped back for a moment, eyeing the machine with arms folded. A dozen tiny lenses extended from the plating on his shoulders, scanning with rotating whirs and quiet clicks. He grunted, satisfied, then turned to reach for the next component.

 "YO LORITH!" The voice rang from the wide entrance like a casual breeze disturbing a forge fire. Lorith paused, then let out a sigh. ".....Primordial ones, lend me strength," he muttered under his breath. Standing by the doorway, half-shadowed by the warm light of the workshop, was Zyren, leaning casually against a shelf and smirking at his hands as he lazily fidgeted with a small, glowing gizmo between his fingers.

 "Hope I'm interrupting," Zyren said, flipping the device once in the air and catching it behind his back like a street performer. "Though I have to say, your scrap pile's looking more charming every cycle." Lorith turned slowly, the joints in his crystalline arms crackling faintly as he placed the part down with deliberate care. He stared at Zyren for a long, heavy moment. "Do you actually have something important to say," Lorith rumbled, "or are you here just to admire me?"

 Zyren grinned, the gizmo still spinning between his fingers. "Can't it be both?" he said, then tossed the device aside where it bounced off a cluttered shelf with a ping! and perfectly landed inside a box with similar gizmos. "But no, really.....did you finish building what I asked for? You know, the tiny little favor I politely requested ages ago?" Lorith snorted, turning back to his construct without missing a beat. "Keep up that smug tone," he said, voice like grinding stone, "and I'll build an automaton specifically designed to painfully crucify me before I cater to another one of your damn 'requests.'" Lorith put the term 'requests' in air quotes.

 Zyren raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling. "Fair, fair. But for the record..... ya didn't say no." Lorith sighed heavily, grabbing a wrench the size of a battering ram. "And you didn't say thank you," he muttered. "Which I assume means I finished it already and just haven't thrown it at your face yet." Zyren clapped his hands together with mock reverence, then dropped into an exaggerated bow, one arm swooping out with the flair of a stage performer.

 "Oh mighty Lorith, breaker of bolts, sculptor of scrap, patron saint of grudging favors, I thank thee from the depths of my unworthy little self." Without turning around, Lorith reached to his side and grabbed a small metal box sitting beneath a crate of plasma clamps. He gave it a casual toss over his shoulder, despite its weight, it flew with perfect arc and spin.

 Zyren caught it one-handed with a grin. "There. That's the gadget ya have been pestering me to make," Lorith said, voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Now kindly scram before I have my automatons drag your flashy silver ass out and weld you to the outer wall." Zyren cradled the box like it was some ancient relic. "Lorith, you are so mean me. Why do you hurt me like this?" "Because pain builds character," Lorith replied flatly. And then, without looking, he hefted an oversized mallet from the workbench beside him and hurled it backward with surprising speed.

 Zyren ducked under it with practiced ease, catching the handle just before it could smash into a wall of shelves. He gave it a casual once-over, then gently dropped it into a nearby box of spare tools with a loud thunk! "Careful now big guy. My face is too pretty for such barbaric tantrums."

 "Yer lucky you haven't exploded from smugness yet," Lorith growled as he turned back to his construct. "Now get lost." Zyren chuckled, already spinning the box on his fingertip like a coin as he slowly strolled toward the exit. "You know, if you smiled once in a while, the automatons might stop twitching in terror." "They should be twitching," Lorith replied, not missing a beat. "Fear keeps the circuits clean."

 As Zyren reached the doorway, Lorith called out one last time, not even glancing away from his work. "Trip on a rock and stab yourself in the face with your Hex." Zyren gave a lazy salute with the box. "Love you too, big guy." And with a low laugh, he vanished down the corridor, leaving the workshop behind, still humming with energy, fire, and the quiet fury of creation.

 The clang of the panel snapped into place with a final, resolute thunk!. Lorith stepped back, arms crossed as the stabilizers hummed to life, emitting a low pulse of energy that resonated through the chamber like the heartbeat of a slumbering god. He was reaching for the next tool when-

 Whsshk!. A faint ripple in the air. "I swear on every molten forge across the void-" Lorith began, without turning. Elyssar was suddenly behind him, head tilted as she peered at the open circuitry over Lorith's shoulder like an overly curious cat. "Just wanted to catch a closer glimpse," she said, unbothered, eyes scanning the inner lattice of the half-armored construct. "Don't mind me." Lorith didn't even blink. "Ask away." Elyssar's grin widened. "How'd you know I had questions?" 

 "Because I can read minds," Lorith answered flatly, adjusting the torque dial on a spanner. Elyssar blinked, she tilted her head before replying with mock seriousness. "Wait, for real? You kidding?" Lorith turned his head just enough to meet Elyssar's eyes.....and roared with sudden volume, "OF COURSE I'M KIDDING!" The workshop rattled. "I HAVE KNOWN YOU FOR ALMOST A DAMN CENTURY. THAT AMOUNT OF TIME LEADS PEOPLE TO NOTICE THINGS ABOUT EACH OTHER."

 Elyssar flinched back dramatically, throwing her arms up as her tail whipped around wildly. "Okay, okay! Calm your crystal circuits, geez." She paced around to the other side of the platform, crouching slightly as she ran a hand along a smooth panel of gleaming ethersteel. "So... how much longer do you think this'll take?" 

 Lorith exhaled through his nose, a sound like wind scraping through stone. His shoulders sank slightly, and when he spoke, it was quieter, frustrated. "Hard to say. I've made good progress, sure. Frame integrity's holding, the internal gyros are syncing properly. But....." he trailed off, resting one massive hand against the side of the machine. "Without intact Leviathan cores, it won't work." The mood shifted. Elyssar's smirk faded, her tone lowering. "You serious? Intact cores?" She frowned, standing upright. "Those things don't exactly grow on Temporal Trees, y'know. Most of the time they destabilize the second the body's down. What's left is basically nothing." 

 "I know that, Ely" Lorith growled, voice low and bitter. "I've tried simulating their temporal conductivity, looping energy matrices, siphoning from residual fragments. Nothing holds. The synthetic cores can't contain the volatility." He turned slightly, his glowing gaze meeting Elyssar's. "The construct needs something alive.....something that can push back. That's how it resists temporal degradation."

 Elyssar said nothing for a moment. Then she stepped forward, placing one clawed hand gently against the hull of the construct. Her fingers tapped against the alloy like she was greeting a sleeping beast. "What'd you name it?" she asked softly. Lorith looked up, the name already resting at the edge of his tongue. "The Argo," he said. Elyssar nodded once, almost solemn. "Fitting."

 Then she smiled faintly. "Now let's just make sure she doesn't explode on takeoff." "Only if you're the one piloting it," Lorith rumbled. "Then it'll definitely explode," Elyssar said, turning to walk away, this time slower, the weight of the conversation still lingering between them. "But at least it'll look damn good doing it." Lorith shook his head as the door whooshed closed behind Elyssar. He turned back to The Argo and placed a hand against its still-warm plating.

 "Don't worry, my child" he muttered under his breath. "We'll make it work. One way or another." The machine said nothing.....but the lights along its core flickered faintly in reply.