THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

The Alchemist Guild's west wing had grown accustomed to occasional disturbances—minor explosions, temporarily altered gravity, or the odd transmuted object crashing through a wall. Such incidents were considered occupational hazards in a building dedicated to pushing the boundaries of magical science. But the violent tremor that rattled glassware and sent books tumbling from shelves shortly after dawn surpassed the usual disruptions.

Most guild members paused only briefly in their work before continuing, having long ago learned to distinguish between genuinely catastrophic events and Yue's typical experimental enthusiasm. The diminutive, childlike alchemist had earned both grudging respect and wary distance from her colleagues. Her methods might be unorthodox—some would say dangerously reckless—but the results spoke for themselves. The Guild Master allowed her considerable latitude precisely because her breakthroughs had advanced alchemical understanding by decades during her tenure.

In Laboratory Seven, positioned three doors down from Yue's private workspace, Zack and Maya hunched over a bubbling apparatus, their expressions reflecting equal parts determination and exhaustion. Soot stained their once-white coats, and dark circles beneath their eyes testified to a night spent in continuous labor. Their current project—a catalyst designed to transform matter between states without traditional energy requirements—had consumed weeks of effort with minimal progress.

"Was that another explosion from Yue's lab?" Maya asked, brushing a strand of auburn hair from her face, leaving behind a smudge of purple residue on her forehead. "That's the third one since midnight."

Zack adjusted his protective goggles, his movements precise despite his obvious fatigue. "Probably. You know how she gets when she's onto something." Unlike Maya's expressive demeanor, Zack maintained a reserved, almost stoic approach to their work—a perfect complement to his partner's creative energy.

"We wouldn't even be this far without her suggestion about dimensional resonance," he added, carefully measuring pale blue powder into a silver crucible. "Remember how she just walked by last week, glanced at our formula, and immediately identified the flaw in our approach?"

Maya's shoulders tensed slightly. "Of course I remember. Three months of calculations rendered obsolete by a ten-second observation." Though her tone remained light, a subtle edge crept into her voice. "The child-sized genius strikes again."

Another tremor shook the laboratory, stronger than the first. A flask wobbled precariously near the edge of their workbench before Zack's quick reflexes saved it from shattering on the floor.

"That one felt different," he noted, setting the flask in a more secure position.

Outside their laboratory, the sound of hurried footsteps passed by, followed by urgent whispers. Maya peered through the small window in their door, catching a glimpse of Litty—Yue's perpetually exasperated daughter—rushing down the corridor with a worried expression, accompanied by someone Maya didn't recognize.

"Something's definitely happening in there," Maya murmured, curiosity momentarily overshadowing her professional jealousy. "Litty looks positively alarmed, and that's saying something considering what she puts up with daily."

Zack opened his mouth to respond when a third tremor rocked the building—this one so powerful that several books toppled from their shelves and a rack of testing tubes crashed to the floor, shattering into crystalline debris.

"Damn it!" Maya exclaimed, jumping back to avoid the glass shards. "This is beyond excessive, even for Yue!"

For several moments, silence fell across the wing. Then, a low rumbling began, building gradually like an approaching thunderstorm. The very air seemed to thicken with accumulated mana, creating the distinct metallic taste that preceded significant magical discharge.

"That's... not normal," Zack said quietly, his usual composure finally cracking as he stepped away from their experiment. "Something's wrong."

Maya's frustration gave way to genuine concern. "Should we check? What if she's hurt?"

Zack hesitated, weighing the options. "It's probably nothing serious. You know how resilient she is. Remember when she accidentally transmuted her own arm into crystal and just laughed it off until she figured out the reversal process?"

But even as he spoke, his feet carried him toward the door, curiosity overcoming caution. "A quick peek wouldn't hurt, I suppose."

They advanced cautiously down the corridor toward Yue's laboratory. The massive metal door—specially reinforced after previous incidents—had begun to bulge outward, its hinges straining against some immense pressure building within. The air around it shimmered with heat distortion, and faint lines of golden light traced patterns across the metal surface like living circuitry.

"Oh gods," Maya whispered, reaching for Zack's arm. "That doesn't look stable at all."

Zack's eyes widened as he registered the danger. "MOVE!" he shouted, diving sideways and tackling Maya clear of the door's path just as a deafening explosion tore it from its frame. The massive metal slab rocketed across the hallway, embedding itself in the opposite wall with a thunderous impact that sent plaster raining from the ceiling.

Heat and blinding light poured from the now-open doorway, along with billowing clouds of multicolored smoke that shifted hues with each passing second. As the initial chaos subsided, Maya and Zack cautiously peeked around the corner, witnessing a scene neither had anticipated.

A man they didn't recognize had been blown clear across Yue's laboratory, his body skidding across shattered glass and scattered papers before coming to rest against an overturned workbench. Despite what must have been a painful impact, he was already attempting to rise, his expression more concerned than injured.

Facing him stood a woman with short black hair and piercing red eyes that seemed to glow with barely contained anger. Flames danced around her clenched fists, and her posture suggested she was prepared to launch another attack at any moment. Tendrils of elemental fire curled around her shoulders like living serpents, responding to her evident fury.

"You stubborn, self-sacrificing IDIOT!" she shouted, her voice cracking with raw emotion that transcended simple anger. "When will you stop trying to shoulder everything alone? Did it ever occur to you that there are people who actually CARE deeply about what happens to you?"

The man raised his hands in a placating gesture, wincing slightly as he finally managed to stand. "Elara, please, if you'd just let me explain—"