As soon as the trio reached the sixth floor, they could instantly hear the faint sound of pounding metals in the distance. Lucy, in particular, was frowning, but not because of the blaring noises. "Drat, I can already feel the heat from here," she ranted softly.

"Huh? I thought you have no problem with high temperatures anymore," blurted Rupert, noticing the water beads forming on his sister's forehead.

"It's the lack of moisture in the air that irked me the most - not the heat itself," Lucy replied, looking down only to see her collar drenched with sweat. In that instance, the thought of running away crossed her mind, but the only two things that prevented her from doing so were Markus's promise and also her brother's possible snarky remark. "You know what? Let's just get this over with," the female Nightingale spouted before wiping her soaked face with her sleeves.

"Are you sure? You're looking rather pale," Sam said worriedly. “As a matter of fact, you looked far more awful than when we were in the Desert of Ashes.”

"Nothing I can do about it, I'm afraid. It's just the stupid downside of being a Water Accursed."

Shortly after Lucy expressed her discontent, a short, willowy woman appeared at the intersection, and her presence was quickly noticed by the trio. Clothed in a steel grey turtleneck and a pair of obsidian cropped pants; the woman's entire head was wrapped with bandages except for her black pixie hair and shining ruby eyes.

"Oh, it's Amelia. Hey, Amelia!" Rupert cheerfully called out while waving both of his hands in the air.

The thin woman shuddered as her name echoed throughout the corridor, resulting in Lucy scolding her brother in return, "Hey, don't shout at her. Have you forgotten how jumpy she is?" The female Nightingale later walked up to Amelia and said, "Sorry about Rupert. He didn’t mean to startle you."

"N-No, I...I don't mind. Um...," Amelia retorted, her voice barely audible. The timid woman awkwardly rubbed her hands together; as if she was uncomfortable by the sudden attention. "My brother is making some preparations for your arrival. It won't take long - probably five minutes at most. I, uh...that is all I want to tell you," Amelia immediately turned around and scampered off in the direction of the Forge.

"Oookay, that's just plain weird," commented Rupert, scratching the back of his head.

“That’s rude, you know? She just has a little difficulty talking with people other than her brother, that’s all,” Lucy retorted.

"After all these years, I see she still hasn't gotten over her…condition. I'm amazed she passed her apprenticeship without any issues," Sam added.

"After all she's been through, can you really blame her?" Lucy sighed heavily. "What's more impressive is that she wanted to be a Faceless on her own accord, despite her near-death experience with the Distorted. Then again, the Lilium bloodline is renowned for their perseverance - an admirable trait that can be terrifying at times."

"Ah, that's right," Sam bobbed his head, recalling a fascinating tale about the Order's former members. "The legendary couple collectively known as the Immortal Walls. They're Tim and Amelia's parents, right?"

"Yup," Lucy swiftly replied with a smile across her face. "Real monsters, those two were - I mean, in a good way. During the Second Great Conflict, they held off against hundreds of Distorted, including the Manglers and the Chimeras. Mother was there, and she saw it all – the two warriors with their wound-ridden skins, immovable and resolute were they that their own souls refused to release their holds on their bloodied husks.”

“Hm, was that supposed to be a poem or something?” Rupert remarked.

“No, silly. That’s how Mom used to describe Amelia’s parents. Hang on a minute, you were there with me when she told us about the Immortal Walls. How come you don’t remember?”

“Really? Huh, must have slipped my mind,” the elder Nightingale replied which made his sister grunt in annoyance.

"GOD DAMN IT!" a raucous male reverberated throughout the corridor, promptly ending the exchange. However, what bothered the trio the most was the silence - specifically, the absence of the hammering noises from earlier.

"This smelled like trouble. Come on," said Sam, followed closely by the Nightingales.

As they drew nearer to the Forge's entrance, the pungent odors of burning metals and coals penetrated their nose, causing their eyes to water at the same time. The trio also noticed that the steel door was slightly ajar, causing the scathing heat to slip out incessantly.

"Ugh," Lucy groaned as her head throbbed painfully as if it was hit by a solid brick. Slightly lightheaded, the female Nightingale rested her right hand against the wall to prevent herself from falling to the floor. Sam and Rupert tried to lend a hand, but Lucy shook her head, softly declining their offers. "I'm fine. I just...just need to catch my breath," the woman responded.

"Really? We haven't gone inside, and yet, here you are, barely able to stand on your feet," Rupert chided, his arms crossed.

CREAK!

The trio's eyes darted toward the Forge's main door, only to see Amelia's head pop out from between the crack. "Oh," the bandage-covered woman simply uttered before she slinked back into the room. A few seconds later, Amelia rushed out; in her hand was a transparent mask which she carefully put over Lucy's nose and mouth. "I know it's difficult, but please take a deep breath."

Without any hesitation, the younger Nightingale did as she was instructed, and much to her surprise, she immediately felt revitalized. Her headache was simply gone – so too was the heavy, suffocating sensation she felt all over her body. "What...what is this thing?" asked Lucy, puzzled by the mysterious new gadget.

Although reluctant at first, Amelia eventually explained to the trio about the device, "Stephanie called it the Reinvigorator. She designed it for the Faceless assigned to extreme environments. It's still a prototype though - so it can only be used once."

“Wow, I might need one of these someday. Tell Steph, I said thanks.”

"Well, that's quite interesting and all, but we heard Tim yelling earlier. Does he need some help?" Rupert interjected.

"Um, actually - no," Amelia retorted, ducking her head shyly. "My brother was only upset that his experiment didn't go as planned - that is all.”

“Experiment?” said Sam, looking curiously at the bandaged woman.

“For the past few weeks, he’s been having difficulties finding the correct composition between the Spider Core metal and the earth metals for his next project.”

“Is he working on a new metamorphosizing weapon?” Lucy interjected, causing Amelia to bob her head in affirmation.

“Yes. Since his last work – Miss Liz’s Headhunter – he’s been eagerly searching for new challenges. Fortunately, Markus found a job that was worth his attention, and he’s been tearing his hair apart ever since.”

“It must be for someone important, then.”

“You could say that,” Amelia answered without elaborating further on the subject. She turned around to face the Forge’s main door, and with a serious-sounding voice, said, “For your safety, please refrain from touching any of the tools inside. My brother is very particular about his stuff.”

“Duly noted,” Rupert stated with a grin on his face.

“I hope so because that's a warning. For you.”

“A warning? For me?”

“Yes, the first and the last. Now, please, follow me.”

qs********************************************

Led by Amelia, the trio entered the Forge and was greeted by the sight of a well-built youthful man with both eyes partially covered with his brunette, shaggy hair. Dressed in a black tank top, the young blacksmith restlessly paced back and forth in front of the scorching furnace.

"Brother, they're here," said Amelia, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks.

"Ah, finally," the man replied, grinning mirthfully at his newly arrived guests. "Welcome to the Forge. Timothy Lilium, at your service, but I can tell you already know who I am."

"Actually, we met three years ago when you handed us the Core Blades," Sam returned.

"Did we?" Tim gazed heavenward, trying to recall the said encounter. A few moments later, a glint could briefly be seen underneath the blacksmith's hair, followed by him snapping his sooty fingers. "Oh, yeah! The flamy-boy!"

"Y-yeah," Sam stumbled, slightly flustered by Tim's cheery attitude. Flamy-boy? That was the first time he had ever been called that. Then again, he had been called worst.

"And you two - the Nightingales, isn't it?” Tim continued to greet his remaining visitors. “Glad to see you are still among the living. So, what business do all of you have with me today?"

"They're here for their new Core Blades," Amelia stated.

"Ah, the Coalescence, how exciting. I assumed you're prepared for what's to come?"

The trio glanced at each other, expecting one of them to answer. Instead, it was Amelia responding to the question, "Everything you heard about the process is true. For three full minutes, your hands will be submerged in the molten Spider Core, and from that same liquid, my brother will build your new Core Blades."

"That sounds simple enough. What's the catch?" Lucy inquired; her eyes narrowed.

"The catch is that you don't get to decide the shape, the length, and the size of your weapons - at least, consciously," Tim remarked. "I'll spare you from the long details. All you need to know is that no harm will come to you when you dip your hands into the liquid metal. Fair warning though, it will still feel hot as hell."

"Crap. There's no other way, is it?" Lucy groused, still feeling the effect of the heat, albeit a little.

"Oh, don't be such a downer, sis. A little challenge won't hurt you, right?" teased Rupert, much to his younger sibling's annoyance.

"Said the one that doesn't have a weakness to high heat," Lucy lashed back.

"Alright, that's enough, both of you," Sam interrupted before his vermillion eyes settled on the blacksmith. "I think for our sakes, we should start the Coalescence right now."

"GREAT!" exclaimed Tim, clapping his hands exuberantly. "Let me go melt some ores, and we can get started! Amelia, collect their old weapons and dump all of them into the crucible."

**qs******************************************

[20 minutes later...]

With a pair of tongs, Tim cautiously fetched the metal container from inside the furnace and set it on top of a stone table. A deep blue glow emanated from the insides of the vessel, and the sound of the bubbling liquid metal could faintly be heard by everyone in the Forge.

"Behold! The ichor of the cursed meteor that brought about the Cataclysm a century ago," the young blacksmith proudly declared. "Extremely lethal to the Reprieved - a whiff of its fume will melt their brains like cheese and turn their skins into charcoal. Fortunately for us, the metal is as harmless as the afternoon sun."

"That...is still quite dangerous," Lucy asserted.

"Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, who wants to go first? How about you, flamy-boy?"

Sam could feel his heart drop after the young blacksmith pointed at him. Despite Tim's assurance, the idea of dipping his limbs into the boiling lava was not only bizarre but also intimidating. He wondered, what if everything didn't go as planned, and he'll end up losing both of his hands?

"You'll be fine," said Tim, as if he was reading Sam's worried thought. "People like us are made from sturdier stuff. A gift from above; that can sometimes be a pain in the ass."

"A gift from above, huh? That’s debatable, but in this case, you're not wrong," Sam retorted; shortly before approaching the steaming crucible. The sight of the vessel's content made the man tremble, but he removed his jacket nonetheless and slowly slid his hands into the basin. As Sam touched the molten metal, he felt some pricklings in his fingers, akin to a warm bath. However, it doesn't take long for an intense, scalding sensation to spread throughout his body, causing Sam to whimper in pain. The man's reflex immediately kicked in, but he soon found that he couldn't pull his hands out of the container. Looking down, Sam watched in horror as the blue lava climbed up his forearms, enveloping them like cocoons. "What the hell is this?!" yelled Sam, glaring at the smiling blacksmith.

"The Coalescence, of course, and you're barely a minute in."