Chapter 21: The Everglow Core 1

I sat at the workbench, the glow of fire crystals illuminating my tired hands. The rhythm of refining was almost meditative now—raw mana in, energy conversion, polished crystal out. Each one was perfect, smooth, and ready for the market. They were the foundation of everything—the business, the team, the reputation.

And that reputation was growing. Word had spread about the quality of my crystals, and the demand was relentless. Nobles in the city clamored for them, merchants bid higher and higher, and even the Academy had started taking notice. It was flattering, but it also meant more work. My hands moved on autopilot, converting mana into heat, heat into light, light into stability. Each crystal was a small victory, but the pile never seemed to shrink.

Then the invitation arrived.

It came through the holo-interface, a shimmering projection hovering above my workbench. I paused mid-conversion, the raw mana crystal pulsing faintly in my hand. The message was formal, elegant, and stamped with the seal of the Gathering of Races—an annual event where the city's elite mingled, brokered deals, and showcased their wares. It was the kind of event that could make or break a business. And they wanted me there.

I stared at the invitation, my mind racing. This wasn't just a pat on the back—it was a test. A chance to prove myself on a bigger stage. The Gathering was where alliances were forged, where secrets were traded, and where the most ambitious could rise. It was also where the most vulnerable could fall.

I set the unfinished crystal down, the glow fading slightly. My reputation had gotten me this far, but reputation alone wouldn't guarantee success. I needed to bring something extraordinary to the Gathering, something that would make them remember me.

My gaze drifted to the synthetic Essence prototype, still dormant on the far workbench. Kael and the team had made progress, but it wasn't ready yet. Not for something like this. No, I needed something proven, something undeniable. My fingers grazed the edge of a fire crystal, its warmth reassuring.

I made a decision then. I'd bring the best of what I had—polished, perfected, and impossible to ignore. The Gathering of Races was my next step, and I wasn't going to waste it.

I leaned back in my chair, the hum of the workshop a steady backdrop to my thoughts. The Gathering of Races loomed like a storm on the horizon, and I needed something that would cut through the noise. Something that would make them sit up and take notice. The fire crystals had been a start, but they weren't enough. Not anymore.

My fingers drummed against the workbench, tracing the edges of a half-finished crystal. Energy conversion was my strength—I could take raw mana and twist it into anything I wanted. Heat, light, even void energy. But what if I took it further? What if I didn't just convert energy, but made it self-sustaining?

The idea struck me like a spark. A Self-Sustaining Crystal Core. Something that could generate its own energy, cycle it indefinitely, and never burn out. An Everglow Core. It was ambitious, maybe even reckless, but it was exactly the kind of thing that would turn heads at the Gathering.

I grabbed a fresh crystal, its surface cool and smooth under my fingers. The trick would be creating a feedback loop—converting the energy back into its source before it could dissipate. It would require precision, control, and a hell of a lot of focus. But if I could pull it off, it would be revolutionary.

As I set to work, another idea nudged at the edges of my mind. What if I didn't stop at one type of energy? What if I combined them—fire, ice, lightning, all woven together into a single crystal? A Hybrid Elemental Crystal. A Prismatic Catalyst. It would be unstable, volatile even, but the potential was undeniable. Imagine the applications—multi-elemental spells, combined effects, endless possibilities.

I paused, the Everglow Core still unformed in my hands. The Gathering was less than a week away. If I was going to make this happen, I'd need to work fast. I glanced at the prototype Essence array in the corner. It wasn't ready yet, but maybe, just maybe, I could use it to stabilize the Prismatic Catalyst.

Time to get to work.

I held the raw crystal in my hands, its surface cool and smooth. The idea was simple in theory—create a feedback loop where the crystal absorbs mana from its surroundings to replenish itself. But the execution? That was another story.

I focused, channeling a stream of raw mana into the crystal. It glowed faintly, a pale blue light that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. The first step was easy—creating a reservoir for the mana. I shaped it carefully, carving out a tiny core within the crystal where the energy could collect. The light brightened slightly, but it was still unstable, flickering like a dying flame.

Now came the hard part.

I reached out with my senses, feeling the ambient mana in the air—thin, scattered, but there. It was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. I guided a tendril of it toward the crystal, coaxing it into the reservoir. The crystal flared brighter, but the mana dissipated almost immediately, slipping through the cracks like water through a sieve.

"Damn it," I muttered, adjusting my grip. I needed a way to trap the mana, to make it stick. I tried again, this time shaping the crystal's internal structure into a lattice, a web designed to catch and hold the mana. The crystal trembled in my hands, its glow erratic. I pushed more raw mana into it, reinforcing the structure, weaving it tighter and tighter until the lattice hummed with energy.

Another tendril of ambient mana. This time, it stuck. The reservoir gained a faint shimmer, a tiny pool of energy that slowly grew as more mana was drawn in. The crystal's glow stabilized, steady and bright. For a moment, I thought I'd done it.

But then the lattice began to warp.

The crystal shuddered violently, the energy inside it straining against the constraints. I clenched my teeth, forcing more raw mana into the structure, trying to hold it together. The glow intensified, turning blindingly bright before the crystal let out a sharp crack.

I jerked my hands back as the crystal shattered, shards scattering across the workbench. The air smelled faintly of ozone, and my fingers tingled where the energy had surged. I stared at the remains, frustration bubbling up in my chest.

"Fine," I muttered, grabbing another crystal. "Let's try again."

I stared at the pile of shattered crystals on my workbench, each one a testament to my failure. The idea of a Self-Sustaining Crystal Core was perfect in theory, but in practice? It was a nightmare. I'd been at this for hours, maybe longer—time blurred when I was deep in experimentation—and I was no closer to a solution. Every attempt ended the same way: with a sharp crack and a burst of raw energy.

The first problem was the Finite Mana Storage. Every crystal had a limit to how much mana it could hold before it became unstable. I'd tried increasing the reservoir size, but that only made the crystal bulkier and harder to control. The larger the reservoir, the more energy it required, and no matter how much raw mana I pumped into it, the core would always reach a breaking point. I'd even tried layering smaller reservoirs, but the energy distribution was too inconsistent. It was like trying to fill a bucket with a hole in the bottom—no matter how much I poured in, it would never stay full.

Then there was the Energy Leakage. Even when I managed to trap mana inside the crystal, it would inevitably seep out. The lattice structure I'd designed was supposed to contain the energy, but it wasn't airtight. The mana found every tiny flaw, every microscopic gap, and escaped. I'd reforged the internal structure dozens of times, adjusting the density and alignment of the lattice, but the leakage never stopped. It was like trying to hold water in a sieve. The crystal would glow brightly at first, but within minutes, the light would dim as the mana dissipated.

And the worst of it? The Overload Instability. Even when everything seemed to work—when the reservoir held and the leakage was minimal—the energy inside the crystal would still spiral out of control. The feedback loop I'd envisioned required precise energy conversion, but the process was too chaotic. The crystal would absorb ambient mana, convert it, and release it back, but the cycle was never smooth. Instead, it would build up until the crystal couldn't handle the strain. The result was always the same: a violent explosion that left me with splintered shards and a ringing in my ears.

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. The problems were clear: Finite Mana Storage, Energy Leakage, Overload Instability. Solving them individually was hard enough, but solving them all at once? Near impossible. My ability to convert energy was powerful, but it wasn't enough. I needed something more—a way to stabilize the core, to balance the energy flow, to make the feedback loop sustainable.