Processing the leyline stone was harder than expected. Fujimaru Ritsuka sat at the workbench, adjusting their grip on the small stone chisel. Black short hair fell across their forehead. The mole on their left cheek glinted faintly under the fluorescent lights. Three pieces of leyline stone lay arranged on the table—or rather, raw leyline stone painstakingly shaped into form—brought back from the basement yesterday. Blue-silver ore. Warm to the touch. The staff member had left instructions to "finish it in reactor core shape" before disappearing, leaving behind chisels, files, measuring instruments, and a magnifying glass for careful work. Friday afternoon. Less than four days remained. "[serious]First, shave 0.3 millimeters here," Gilbert Zahal stood beside them. Golden hair tied back, golden eyes studying the stone through the magnifying glass. He'd apparently returned the armor that got mangled in the basement somewhere; today he wore a more practical jacket. His attitude, though, remained as imposing as ever. "Got it," Ritsuka positioned the chisel against the stone. Carefully. Carefully. The fatigue from yesterday's basement exploration lingered slightly, but their hands moved with precision. Tap. "[serious]You're using too much force," "Yeah, sorry," Another cut. Tap, tap. Little by little. The stone inched closer to the desired shape. They didn't hate this kind of work. If only there was time. If only there was time. Ritsuka held back a sigh. Then. BANG!!! "[excited]Looks like you're doing something fun! Let me in on this! Let me do it!!" The door slammed against the wall. Ritsuka and Gilbert spun around simultaneously. A boy stood in the workshop entrance. Black hair streaked with red in places, disheveled. Eyes burning with crimson intensity. From his 178-centimeter frame radiated incredible momentum and heat. An old scar was visible on his left leg. Maurice Levya. The "red something" Ritsuka had glimpsed down the hallway—so this was it. "[cold]…Why are you here," "I saw you guys coming back from the basement in the hallway! Figured you were doing something interesting!" Maurice strode straight to the workbench. His red eyes caught sight of the stone on the table and gleamed brilliantly. "Whoa, this is leyline stone! It's glowing! That's insane!" "[angry]Don't touch it," "Let me see," He grabbed a tool. A chisel. Gripped it tight. Ritsuka started to say "Ah, that's for delicate work—" when— CRACK!!!! The stone split clean in half. Snap. Perfectly. Three days of careful shaping, gone. Silence. "[excited]It broke! That was awesome! Stones break this satisfyingly!?" Maurice's eyes shone with delight. Ritsuka watched him. "…Yeah, it broke," The words came out. That was all. Gilbert's eyes slowly closed. Then opened. Golden eyes fixed on the fractured stone. "[angry]You fool!!" "Huh!? What did I do!?" "What do you think that stone is worth! More precious than my own treasures! That took three days to shape!!" "How was I supposed to know! You should've explained first!" "If you meant to help, you should have simply watched in silence, yet you always—!" "Shut up! I was just trying to help! Don't mess with me!" Ritsuka tried to step between them. But they were already bolting from the workshop. The moment they hit the hallway, their voices doubled. "[angry]You've always been like this!! Always charging ahead and dragging everyone with you!!" "[angry]You've always been acting high and mighty and not seeing anything!!" "Always!?" "Yeah! It's always been like this!!" The main corridor—the 200-meter primary passage running east-west through the facility. The hallway with white walls and blue floor lights had become a battlefield. Gilbert wielded a solid gold tray from the treasury. Using it as a shield, apparently. Maurice was clutching a spare chair from the hallway. What he intended to do with it was completely unclear. Three staff members came running from down the corridor, saw the two of them, and immediately changed direction to flee. "Not those two again…!!" Somewhere else, a voice shouted "Seal off the corridor!!" Ritsuka ran after them, shouting. "[scared]Wait! Both of you! We don't have time! We don't have time!!" They weren't listening. Completely not listening. Gilbert thrust the tray forward. Maurice lifted the chair. Meaningless combat rolled down the corridor. Their roaring echoes reverberated through the entire facility. "[angry]Don't speak to me that way!!" "[angry]Shut up! Don't mess with me!!" Ritsuka ran. Caught up. Shouted again. Got ignored again. The end of the corridor was approaching. Maurice tried to dodge around Gilbert. Jumped right. Jumped left. Gilbert pursued with the tray. Maurice ran. He charged toward the wall. CRASH!!!! A dull metallic sound rang through the corridor. Maurice's right shoulder slammed directly into a thick pipe running along the wall. The cooling pipe for Trismegistus—Chaldea's underground calculation system. The pipe crumpled inward. Seconds of silence. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—!!!! Alarms shrieked throughout the facility. The ceiling lights cut out. Complete darkness. Then, seconds later, emergency lights glowed red. The corridor bathed in crimson. A voice came through the speakers. "[serious]Emergency alert! Trismegistus has overheated! Restart will take 12 hours! Repeat, restart will take 12 hours—!!" The corridor fell silent. Gilbert lowered the tray. Maurice set the chair on the floor. Both stared at the wall. At the crumpled pipe. "…This is bad," The color drained from Maurice's face. A side of him Ritsuka had never seen. The angry shouts from moments before seemed like a lie. He'd gone completely quiet. Ritsuka stood there. In the middle of the red corridor. Calculating in their head. Four days left. The calculation device needed for the work would be unavailable for 12 hours. Two leyline stones remaining. Three days to process them, they'd been told. Losing 12 hours meant 3.5 days left. The already-tight calculation became impossible. "…You two," The words came out. Quieter than expected. Gilbert and Maurice looked at Ritsuka. "Do you understand how much time we have left?" Gilbert opened his mouth. "[cold]If Maurice hadn't barged in, this wouldn't have happened—" "[angry]You chased me into the wall! That's why I hit it!" "You came in uninvited—!" "You yelled first!!" They pointed at each other again. Ritsuka stepped between them. Tried to mediate. Opened their mouth. But no words came. Frustration. Anger. Something undefined, like wanting to cry. All of it tangled together, and— "[angry]That's it! I'm doing this alone!!" They shouted. The corridor went silent. Gilbert fell quiet. Maurice fell quiet. Ritsuka turned their back to both of them. Walked down the red corridor. Footsteps echoed. Back to the workshop. Alone. Behind them, the two might have said something. But Ritsuka didn't look back. —— The workshop was dark. Only the emergency lights glowed red; all the fluorescent lights were off. Ritsuka sat at the bench. Fragments of the broken leyline stone scattered across the table. Blue-silver shards looked dull in the red light. They picked them up. One by one. (What are they doing?) The anger was still there. But more than that, they were exhausted. As Ritsuka collected the fragments into a small bag, they noticed their hands were shaking. Whether from anger or fatigue, they couldn't tell. (I want to protect everyone) That's what they thought. Yet everyone was making it harder. That contradiction churned inside their chest. Footsteps sounded outside the corridor. Slow footsteps stopped at the workshop door. Ritsuka didn't look up. The door didn't open. But someone was out there. Seconds passed. The footsteps faded away. ——It might have been Gilbert. But they didn't check. After a while, different footsteps. They stopped around the corridor corner. There was a sense of someone glancing at the workshop door. That presence, too, eventually vanished. Ritsuka sat alone in the dark workshop. A small monitor on the table's edge displayed numbers in the red light. ——Time remaining: 52 hours. Ritsuka stared at those numbers for a while. 52 hours. "[gentle]…I guess I just have to do it," They whispered softly into the empty workshop. They finished collecting all the fragments and placed the bag on the table. Their hands still trembled slightly. The corridor outside remained quiet. They didn't know where the two had gone. In 12 hours, when the calculation device restarted, work would resume. Until then—they had to figure something out. Ritsuka rested their chin on their hand and continued staring at the monitor's numbers. Red light slowly illuminated the dim workshop.