The trek through the Hidden Jungle was brutal.


    Lugging the absurdly heavy slab of Nekrium and the packed samples on his back, Traebus was acutely aware of just how much work success really was. The thick jungle foliage slowed them down at every step, roots tripped them when they were least expecting it, and vines snagged on their supplies, as if the entire forest had decided to personally sabotage their journey home.


    As they trudged through the dense underbrush, the first rays of dawn filtered through the canopy. Traebus glanced up at the pale golden light and groaned. "Fantastic. That means we’ve been gone for at least a full day. A whole day wasted on that insufferable not-a-dungeon and its cryptic bug librarian."


    Dusk flicked an exasperated impression of complaining will not make it lighter.


    "Oh, let me have this," Traebus griped, adjusting his grip on the slab. "If I have to suffer, then I at least get to complain about it."


    Sparky, who had hitched a ride on top of the metal, trilled contentedly, clearly not suffering.


    By the time they reached the stairwell, every muscle in Traebus’s body screamed in protest. He collapsed onto the first step, breathing heavily. "Alright. We’re at the stairs. We just… need to carry this thing… all the way to the top." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I think my spine is actively protesting my life choices."


    Dusk chuffed in agreement, while Sparky flicked a small pulse of amusement through their bond.


    Just as Traebus was contemplating whether it was possible to bribe a god into teleporting them the rest of the way, heavy footsteps approached. A familiar shadow loomed over them, and when he cracked one eye open, he was met with the unconcerned stare of Tank.


    The massive three-horn peered at them, blinking slowly, then snorted as if unimpressed with their collective state of near-collapse.


    Traebus let out a weak laugh. "Oh, buddy. You have no idea how happy I am to see you."


    Tank sniffed the Nekrium slab, then promptly ignored it in favor of chewing a nearby vine.


    "Listen, big guy," Traebus wheezed, pushing himself upright, "how would you feel about carrying this thing? Because I’m about five minutes away from rolling it up the stairs and letting physics handle the rest."


    Tank exhaled loudly, unimpressed.


    Traebus patted his side. "Come on. You’re strong, reliable, and frankly, way less prone to throwing your back out than I am. Help us out here, and I promise you a very good meal when we get back."


    Tank paused, clearly debating the offer, before finally lowering himself enough for Traebus and Dusk to strap the Nekrium to his back. Once it was secured, Tank stood effortlessly, lifting the slab as if it weighed nothing.


    Traebus threw his hands in the air. "See? Look at that. No struggle. No suffering. Why did we even bother trying to carry it ourselves?"


    Dusk flicked an image of because you are stubborn into his mind.


    "Yeah, yeah," Traebus muttered, stretching out his sore muscles. "Let’s get home before I find another terrible idea to follow through on."


    With Tank carrying the weight, the exhausted trio climbed the stairwell, their thoughts already turning toward rest—and all the possibilities Nekrium would bring.


    Then Traebus froze.


    Something very important had just occurred to him.


    He turned, eyes narrowing at Tank, who trudged ahead as if this were just another casual morning stroll. "Wait a second."


    Dusk flicked a questioning pulse at him, but Traebus ignored it, his brain catching up to what his eyes had failed to notice earlier.


    "How did you get down here?" he asked, staring at Tank in utter disbelief. "There is no way you fit down that stairwell. The steps are too narrow, the turns are too sharp—there is physically no way you made it down here. And yet, here you are. And I am losing my mind."


    Tank, utterly unfazed, continued his slow ascent.


    Traebus placed his hands on his head. "Did you—did you just teleport? No, no, I would’ve noticed that. Did you find some kind of hidden, three-horn-exclusive passage? Have you always been able to defy physics and you just never told me?!"


    Dusk, who had already come to terms with the fact that Tank is an enigma that should not be questioned, simply flicked him the mental equivalent of accept it and move on.


    Sparky, on the other hand, trilled excitedly, clearly living for this moment. He sent a very detailed mental image of Tank simply appearing at the bottom of the jungle like an omnipotent entity, complete with godlike radiance and a heavenly chorus.


    Traebus groaned, rubbing his face. "No. No, this needs an explanation. I refuse to let reality just—just bend for one specific creature and expect me to be okay with it!"


    As if to personally mock him, Tank casually adjusted the heavy Nekrium slab on his back, then proceeded to walk up the stairwell like a mountain goat, navigating the narrow ledges and sharp turns with the ease of a creature a fraction of his size.


    Traebus’s jaw dropped. "What."


    Dusk let out a long, exhausted breath, flicking a very clear stop thinking about it before you hurt yourself into Traebus’s mind.


    Sparky, meanwhile, rolled onto his back on Traebus’s shoulder, chittering wildly with absolute glee.


    "I can’t. I can’t accept this," Traebus muttered, staring blankly as Tank casually strolled to the top, completely ignoring the fact that he had just violated at least seven laws of physics. "I have questions. I have so many questions. And no answers."


    Dusk flicked another thought at him.


    Welcome to my life.


    Traebus groaned. "I need a nap. A very long nap. And possibly a drink."


    Sparky trilled in what could only be described as victorious mockery.


    With one last glance at the impossible three-horn, Traebus dragged himself up the last steps, resigned to the fact that Tank’s secrets were just another mystery he would never, ever solve.


    Then, another realization smacked him square in the brain.


    His experiments.


    His rune-feeding experiments—where he had, in a stroke of what he had thought was minor genius, tested enchanted symbols on Tank just to see what would happen. He had assumed at the time that nothing came of it. No visible glow, no immediate side effects, no sudden burst of super-speed or fire-breathing (which had been mildly disappointing). But now… now it all made sense.


    The runes hadn’t failed. They had worked. Too well.


    His jaw tightened as he turned his gaze to Tank, who was completely unbothered, casually strolling along like physics had never applied to him. "Wait. Wait just a second. Are you—have you been enhanced this whole time? And you just never told me?!"


    Tank grunted in what could only be described as an acknowledgment before immediately ignoring him and continuing forward.


    Traebus inhaled sharply, eyes wide. "Oh. Oh, you absolute tank—wait, no, that’s redundant—you magnificent beast! That explains everything! The balance, the lack of strain, the—you cheated reality! And here I was, thinking you were just built differently."


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Dusk flicked an impression of he is, actually, built differently.


    Sparky let out a series of amused chirps, the little lizard delighted by Traebus’s late realization.


    Tank, meanwhile, continued his trek without a care in the world, eventually reaching the top of the stairs. As the trio stumbled after him, exhausted and battered, the smaller elemental lizards came rushing forward in a flurry of tiny claws and excited chirps, piling onto them in a joyful, chaotic swarm.


    Traebus grunted as one particularly eager lizard latched onto his shoulder, nipping at his ear. "Alright, alright! We made it back alive! Yes, I missed you too, but please, I just carried half a mountain up a cliff, let me breathe."


    Tank, unfazed by the welcome party, strode straight past them, casually depositing the massive Nekrium slab outside the storage building before flopping onto his side in a patch of warm morning sun.


    Traebus watched, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, sure, just throw the single most valuable material in existence onto the ground like a random rock. That’s fine. That’s—yep, that’s just what we do now."


    Dusk flicked a very clear thought of you are too exhausted to fight this battle.


    With a groan, Traebus sighed in defeat and flopped onto the ground next to the lizards, staring up at the sky. "You know what? Fine. Fine. We made it back. I have the metal. I still don’t know what to do with it yet, but at this point? That’s a future me problem."


    Sparky trilled in agreement, curling up beside him.


    For now, the only thing on Traebus’s mind was sleep.


    But the reality of what they had accomplished still buzzed at the edge of his exhausted mind. Even as he lay there, surrounded by his ragtag group of lizards, he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from twitching into a small, satisfied grin.


    Nekrium. Actual Nekrium. He had fought through an absurd not-a-dungeon, endured cryptic conversations with an oversized book-bug, and nearly broken his spine hauling the prize back home—but it was his now.


    A chuckle escaped him. "I can’t believe we pulled that off."


    Dusk, curled up beside him, flicked a lazy thought of of course we did. You’re too stubborn to fail.


    Sparky, comfortably sprawled across his chest, trilled in tired agreement.


    Traebus exhaled, stretching his aching limbs. He’d worry about the metal later. He’d refine it, test it, see just how much potential it truly had. But for now? For now, he was just going to lie in the dirt, bask in the morning sun, and pretend for a few precious hours that he wasn’t about to throw himself into another wild project.


    Tank snorted from his sunbathing spot nearby, shifting lazily.


    Traebus cracked one eye open and smirked. "Don’t get too comfortable, big guy. We’re gonna have work to do."


    Tank grunted in response but otherwise remained unmoving.


    Traebus let his eyes drift shut. Later. Later, he’d plan. Later, he’d build. But for now?


    For several hours, the group rested in the sun, letting exhaustion melt away as the warmth seeped into their sore muscles. The occasional rustle of leaves and distant calls of the island’s wildlife filled the air, but none of them moved. Even Sparky, usually a bundle of restless energy, lay sprawled across Traebus’s chest, completely at peace.


    It wasn’t until his stomach let out a loud, undignified growl that Traebus finally stirred.


    "Alright, alright," he muttered, sitting up with a groan. "I get it. We need food."


    Dusk stretched beside him, flicking a lazy thought of yes, before you starve to death and complain about it for hours.


    Ignoring the sass, Traebus pushed himself to his feet and set about preparing a meal. He pulled out some of their stored meat and set up a fire, seasoning the cuts with salt before placing them over the flames. The rich, sizzling aroma filled the air, immediately perking up the small elemental lizards, who gathered around in anticipation.


    Sparky, practically vibrating, trilled in excitement. A few of the smaller lizards hopped in place, tails flicking eagerly.


    "Yeah, yeah, keep your tails on," Traebus said, flipping the meat. "It’s coming."


    As the food cooked, he turned to see Tank still sprawled in the sun, lazily watching the proceedings. With a smirk, Traebus cut off a small portion and, just for the hell of it, tossed it toward the three-horn. "Here, big guy. You earned it."


    To his absolute shock, Tank sniffed the meat, then—without hesitation—ate it.


    Traebus blinked. "...Huh."


    Dusk and Sparky also turned to stare, both equally perplexed.


    "So you do eat meat," Traebus murmured, watching as Tank chewed thoughtfully before returning to his nap like nothing had happened. "Well. That’s a development."


    Sparky chittered, clearly delighted by the discovery, while Dusk flicked a thought of of course your oversized pet defies normal dietary expectations too.


    "Oh, shut up," Traebus muttered, passing out the rest of the food. The smaller lizards practically pounced on their portions, chirping happily as they devoured the meal. Even Dusk, despite his usual composed demeanor, looked content as he tore into his serving.


    The camaraderie of the moment settled something in Traebus’s chest. After everything they had been through, after the exhaustion, the absurdity, and the constant near-death experiences, this—sitting around a fire, sharing a meal—felt right.


    When they finished eating, Traebus dusted his hands off and turned his gaze toward the Nekrium slab still lying outside the storage building. "Alright. Break’s over. Let’s see what this stuff can actually do."


    With renewed energy, he strode toward the metal, ready to begin his next great experiment.


    He bent down, gripping the edge of the Nekrium slab to wrestle it into the storage room, but stopped. A realization struck him—he couldn’t experiment here. If something went wrong (which, given his track record, was a near certainty), he’d risk destroying their supplies, the storage area, or, worst-case scenario, his entire home.


    That simply wouldn’t do.


    He needed a lab.


    One sturdy enough to contain his more ambitious ideas. A space that could withstand explosive failures, volatile reactions, and the occasional minor reality-breaking incident.


    His mind quickly settled on the south side of the island—just down from the house, near the bridge. It was a relatively flat stretch of land, away from their main living area but still easily accessible.


    "Alright, new plan," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "I’m building a lab. And I’m making sure it’s reinforced this time."


    Dusk flicked a thought of reinforced against what?


    Traebus sighed. "Me."


    Sparky chittered in agreement, clearly recalling several past failures that had involved unexpected combustion.


    With that, Traebus set his sights on his next big project—constructing a subterranean lab that could handle whatever madness he threw at it. The Nekrium could wait a little longer.


    He began by marking out an L-shaped foundation on the ground, the sheer size of it almost twice that of his house. The larger portion of the L would serve as the main lab, while the shorter section would act as a dedicated storage area for materials, tools, and anything too volatile to leave in the open.


    As he worked, he used his magic to carve deep trenches, shaping the ground and reinforcing the walls with the very stone and earth he unearthed. Unlike his previous constructions, he wasn’t just reinforcing the lab a little—he was making it nearly indestructible. The sheer density of the walls quickly reached a point where, compared to them, his defensive wall around the island looked like a flimsy afterthought.


    Dusk flicked an exasperated thought at him. You are going overboard.


    Traebus, standing knee-deep in carved-out stone, scoffed. "I don’t think I am. This is preventative. I am not repeating past explosions. This place is going to withstand anything."


    Sparky trilled and flicked a mental image of the lab still somehow exploding.


    "You two have no faith in me," Traebus muttered, shaking his head as he continued shaping the foundation. "Not unreasonable, but still, very rude."


    With the walls reinforced to a near absurd degree, Traebus turned his attention to the ceiling and floor, ensuring they were just as solid. He compressed the rock overhead until it was thick enough to withstand a collapse, sealing it together with his magic until it felt more like a seamless, monolithic dome than a mere ceiling. The floor he packed down with equal intensity, smoothing the stone until it was level and resistant to wear.


    Next, he set to work carving out ventilation shafts. While he fully intended for the lab to be secure, he also had no desire to suffocate inside his own fortress of scientific recklessness. Carefully, he shaped thin, hidden channels through the rock, leading outside at subtle angles to allow airflow while minimizing weak points.


    Satisfied that he had prevented both collapse and asphyxiation, Traebus moved on to the entrance. He crafted a vault-like door out of solid stone, embedding it into the thick wall with heavy reinforcements. A set of grooves ensured it would slide open smoothly, though he made a note to eventually replace it with something more advanced—perhaps something involving gears or rune-locking mechanisms.


    Finally, he turned his focus to the interior layout. The large main lab section would be for active experiments, so he built stationary stone tables along the walls for workspace, ensuring they were heavy and sturdy enough to handle whatever unpredictable chaos he planned to unleash. Along one side, he carved out a material identification table, a flat stone slab with small grooves for sorting and testing new substances.


    The smaller storage section of the lab, connected through a reinforced archway, housed neatly arranged storage bins for raw materials. He shaped them directly into the stone walls, ensuring they wouldn’t be knocked over no matter how many explosions occurred.


    By the time he stepped back to admire his work, the lab was still bare-bones, but structurally? It was a fortress of experimentation.


    Dusk, Sparky, and the smaller elemental lizards cautiously wandered inside, their tiny claws clicking against the smooth stone floor as they explored the newly built space. Sparky immediately claimed one of the stone tables, flicking his tail excitedly as if inspecting his new domain, while Dusk moved with more calculated precision, analyzing the carved walls and reinforced structure.


    Traebus took a deep breath and turned to the smaller lizards, his tone shifting to something far more serious. "Alright, listen up. This place is dangerous—I mean it. No fooling around in here. If something goes wrong, we don’t get second chances. You all stay out unless I say otherwise. Understood?"


    The lizards, for once, seemed to grasp the weight of his words. They stilled, their frills flicking as they took in his stern expression. Sparky, for all his usual antics, trilled softly in agreement, hopping off the table and nodding.


    Satisfied, Traebus exhaled and dusted off his hands. "Alright. Now that we have some ground rules, let’s get the real prize."


    He turned and strode out of the lab, making his way back to where Tank had so graciously dropped the Nekrium slab outside the storage building. With renewed excitement, he braced himself, ready to finally get his hands on the metal and start unraveling its secrets.