Lucien stepped out to find Lilith already waiting outside his door.
"My friends will be leaving Starforge," Lucien said first. "They have sothing to take care of."
Lilith tilted her head slightly. Her gaze flicked past his shoulder. "Friends?"
Lucien lifted a hand.
The air behind him folded like fabric.
Three presences stepped out as if they had been standing there the entire ti.
Morveth, Kira, and Aerolith.
Lilith’s breath caught. Her composure slipped.
Her spine stiffened, and her pupils tightened as if her instincts were trying to asure the impossible.
Their aura was not simply strong. They carried the weight of existence that only Eternals possessed. A pressure that did not threaten; it simply declared what they were.
Lilith swallowed without aning to.
Starforge had one Eternal.
And Lucien...
He had been hiding more than one.
Behind him. Inside him. Sowhere.
Her mind raced, reviewing every conversation and every attempt she had made to "keep" him, and each mory now felt like a child trying to hold the tide in her hands.
Morveth inclined his head gently. "Little smith," he said, "We et under hurried skies."
Kira’s mandibles clicked once in greeting. "Starforge. Interesting nest."
Aerolith smiled brightly. "Hello. Do you have snacks?"
Lilith forced herself to breathe.
She looked at Lucien.
In a strange mont of clarity, she realized sothing simple and humiliating.
She could never keep Lucien.
If anything, it feels like Starforge was the one being kept.
She returned their greetings politely, slipped a snack from her storage ring into Aerolith’s hands, then turned her attention back to Lucien once more.
Her shoulders lowered slightly and she let out a controlled sigh.
"Brother," she murmured. "You are a calamity in polite clothing."
Lucien’s mouth twitched. "That is the nicest thing anyone has said to today."
Soon, Lilith recovered. Her eyes sharpened again.
"If they are leaving, they need passage."
She pulled out a formation disc and pressed it into Lucien’s hand.
"This will let them slip through the barrier without tripping the alarms," she said.
Morveth accepted it with the calm of soone receiving a key to a house he could already break into.
Lucien nodded to each of them in turn.
A larger split body had already settled within Morveth’s shell.
Everything was in place now.
He watched them prepare to leave.
Morveth’s voice reached him. "We will bring the small ones back."
Kira’s mandibles clicked again. "And we will learn the shape of the hunt."
Aerolith nodded solemnly. "And I will not eat anyone important."
Lucien eyed her and sighed.
"That will do," he said.
Soon after, they moved together and reached the edge of the barrier.
After activating the disc, Morveth stepped through first. Kira followed like a blade sliding into a sheath. Aerolith waved cheerfully.
Then they were gone.
Lucien exhaled once.
Lilith watched him, then looked away, pretending she did not notice the faint tension in his jaw.
Just then—
The barrier overhead lit up.
Its glow hardened, deepened, and turned from soft radiance into sothing like forged dusk.
Lilith looked up.
"That is my father," she said.
Monts later, Anvil-Horn descended. His horn carried fresh lines of forged light, and the air around him felt cleaner as if the world had been hamred into better shape.
He landed and imdiately searched.
His eyes found Lucien and Lilith.
’Good.’
He was already moving toward them when he caught the tail end of their exchange.
Lucien was placing a storage ring into Lilith’s hands.
"These talismans will be of great help against the Alloykins’ Astrafer bodies," Lucien said. "There are stacks of them in this ring. Enough for full distribution."
Lilith’s eyes flicked down, then back to him. "You crafted this many?"
"Distribute them to everyone," Lucien replied. "If they can hold a weapon, they carry one of these."
Lucien added
"This turns a desperate defense into a killing field."
Anvil-Horn who heard him from afar slowed.
His veteran instincts sharpened.
He knew Alloykins. He knew Astrafer resonance. He knew how a single misjudged strike could waste a life.
To fight an Alloykin at equal strength was not rely exhausting. It might cost him years of his lifespan.
And Lucien was speaking as if that price had been cut down to a coin.
Anvil-Horn’s gaze ward as he looked at Lucien, sothing fond and fierce flickered behind his eyes.
He glanced once at Lilith.
Then at Lucien.
Then at Lilith again.
A thought ford in his mind.
A father’s thought.
But he crushed it imdiately.
’Later.’
First ca survival.
Lucien turned as Anvil-Horn approached.
"Uncle," Lucien said. "Perfect timing."
Anvil-Horn’s laughter rolled out, booming and alive. "Little friend, you keep handing timing like it is a common tal."
Lilith folded her arms. "He does it to everyone. Do not get used to it."
Anvil-Horn waved her off and clasped Lucien’s forearm briefly, warrior to warrior.
"I reinforced the barrier," Anvil-Horn said. "It will hold longer. It will bleed less."
Lucien nodded. "Good."
Then Lucien looked to the side, toward the deeper wing.
"I should introduce you first," Lucien said.
Anvil-Horn frowned. "Introduce to whom?"
The air behind Lucien shifted once more.
Two more presences stepped forward.
Condoriano’s shadow ca first. Saber followed.
Lilith went rigid.
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
Then opened again.
"Another two," she whispered as if counting would make it less absurd.
Anvil-Horn stared for a long breath.
Then he let out a slow exhale and laughed. Not in mockery, but in pure, unguarded relief.
"Good," he said. "Good."
Condoriano angled his head, eyes gleaming like stormlight. "So this is the little forge you talked about, little brother."
Saber’s gaze slid over Anvil-Horn. "He slls like iron and stubbornness."
Anvil-Horn grinned at them like a veteran greeting other veterans. "Then we will get along."
Lucien watched the exchange.
Anvil-Horn did not ask where they had been hidden.
He did not ask how Lucien summoned them.
He did not waste breath on suspicion.
Because suspicion did not wake him from his slumber. Lucien did.
And in a war, trust was either forged deliberately or it did not exist at all.
Anvil-Horn’s eyes flicked once to Lilith again, and he gave her a small nod.
Approval.
Sothing that says...
’I am glad you have a great friend.’
Lilith stared back, still dazed, as if her worldview had been flipped and hamred into a new shape.
She swallowed. ’He summon Eternals like one summon tools...’
Anvil-Horn laughed again, loud enough to scare a few distant birds into the air.
Soon, they discussed everything. The looming crisis and the plan that would follow.
...
Anvil-Horn Eternal moved fast after that.
He summoned Starforge.
Everyone.
Smiths, handlers, formation keepers, couriers, healers, apprentices, and veterans. He gathered them into the main yard under the strengthened glow of the barrier.
The mood was uneasy at first, a low ripple of fear the way a lake trembled when sothing large moved beneath it.
Anvil-Horn stepped onto the platform and let his presence roll out.
He waited until the yard quieted itself.
Then he spoke.
"Starforge," he said, "we are entering a tribulation."
Murmurs stirred. Faces tightened.
Anvil-Horn raised a hand.
"Listen."
He did not soften the truth.
He made it usable.
"An enemy force may co," he said. "Soon enough that we prepare as if it is already walking."
A beat.
"Here is what will happen if we act like frightened children."
He gestured outward.
"We scatter. We hide. We clog corridors. We waste arrays by triggering them at the wrong tis. We die in small groups."
His eyes swept the crowd.
"Here is what will happen if we act like Starforge."
His horn lit faintly.
"We turn our ho into a furnace."
Anvil-Horn began issuing orders.
"Formation Keepers," he said, "you will rotate in thirds. If one of you collapses, that is one less mind to adjust an array mid-fight."
"Couriers," he continued, "you will mark three evacuation routes and morize them. Routes will be different depending on where pressure hits."
"Healers," he said, "you will not chase death. You will stabilize and move. We win by keeping hands alive, not by making graves honorable."
The crowd’s breathing steadied as the shape of the plan took form.
He pointed to the outer rings.
"We will create kill corridors," Anvil-Horn said. "If they breach, they do not spill into the city. They are funneled into zones designed to punish their bodies and disrupt their resonance."
Then he turned his palm upward.
"And now," Anvil-Horn said, "I will remove your greatest fear."
He stepped aside.
Condoriano unfolded his wings.
Saber’s aura sharpened.
Three Eternals stood for Starforge.
Anvil-Horn. Condoriano. Saber.
The yard erupted into stunned sound as if the crowd was afraid the miracle might disappear if they acknowledged it too loudly.
Condoriano’s voice bood across them.
"Little hatchlings," he said, amused, "it has been a long ti since the world rembered my na."
Saber’s gaze was colder. "If the enemies co," he said, "they will learn it again."
Anvil-Horn lifted a hand before awe could turn into foolish confidence.
"Do not celebrate early," he warned. "An Eternal does not make you immortal. It makes you responsible."
Then he gestured to Lilith.
Lilith stepped forward, expression controlled.
She opened a storage ring and drew out talismans. Each one was humming with a faint cosmic pressure that made the skin prickle.
Anvil-Horn’s voice cut through the yard.
"These talismans were created by our benefactor here," he announced. "They exploit the weakness of Astrafer resonance. With them, even those below the enemy’s realm can kill an Alloykin."
The words struck like a bell.
Fear turned into sothing else.
Purpose.
"Distribution," Anvil-Horn commanded. "Now. Everyone, take at least one."
The talismans began spreading through the crowd in disciplined lines.
Anvil-Horn watched it and continued.
"This is our strategy. We do not et them on open ground," he said. "We do not chase them into their comfort."
"We make them fight in our geotry."
His eyes flared faintly.
"When they stumble, we do not duel. We erase."
A hush fell.
Anvil-Horn looked over every face.
"We survive by discipline," he said. "We win by coordination."
Then he looked toward Lucien.
"And we prepare like this," Anvil-Horn added, "because soone saw the storm before it arrived."
Anvil-Horn lifted his horn toward the strengthened barrier above them.
"Starforge," he said, "we do not pray for rcy."
His gaze turned hard.
"We forge it."
The yard answered him with the unified sound of people setting their fear down and picking up their roles.
Lilith stood at Lucien’s side.
She leaned closer, voice low.
"Brother," she murmured, "you keep ruining my sense of scale."
Lucien’s mouth curved slightly.
"Get used to it," he said. "The world is about to get bigger."
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