Johannes Volkner bid farewell to... For once, nothing. He had almost fallen into a peaceful routine for the first time since before he'd left for Heliopolis. He was very nearly content with the way things were going, even despite the immense pressure laying atop his shoulders. He ate what seemed to be some form of lightly spiced hardtack meal for breakfast, and readied himself for another day of toiling away in the workshop, ready for whatever or whoever he might deal with in the process. Yet, when he opened the colony's workshop, he still found himself surprised. The cannon had been taken out, presumably to go test it, and Pádraig's claimed armor was laying against one wall with a note atop it, slightly yellowed from the imperfect pulping processes and the sea breeze.

  'To Jojo, you were sort of right. If I just swing my sword around, I won't get much done, but don't think I'm giving up on the adventure there! I took the cannon to get used to aiming it around, feel free to try out the armor. I have a feeling you'll be needing it more anyway.'

  With a light sigh, he couldn't help but thank his luck that Pádraig had ultimately listened to reason. Soon enough, he began to try fitting on all the various pieces of the armor, and he found that it took a substantial amount of time. Not only that, but the thick, curved plates would be damn near impossible for him to engrave runes into in the last day they had before they made their assault. Once he had gotten himself back out of the armor, he instead decided on the course of action that felt most sensible, adding more ways for him to access a deeper pool of magical energy. Though he had not been thinking in terms of exact units prior, such things did exist among mages. His own total pool of magical energy on a good day was roughly six hundred and fifty units, assuming he had rested recently and not overexerted himself.

  The jewel within Beissende Hunde could fit another one hundred or so units of external energy, which he could drain as needed, though using it to fuel magic not connected to the sword itself would prove difficult. Yet, the much larger external source of energy he had was on his right arm, or more accurately inside of it. The Command Array made by Heliopolis, the implant that allowed for forcing a Spirit to listen to orders regardless of their state, was simply a command spell that used the bond between a Spirit and the one who Called it. Even now, if he focused on it, he could see the faint lines of the implant running up his arm, several thousand total units of magical energy practically waiting to be unleashed. It was built to be used multiple times in succession, and to wrangle such an impressive creature as a Spirit, an incredible amount of magical energy was required for each usage.

  Yet, what if he tampered with the Command Array, and allowed it to be used for other spells besides its intended purpose? What, then, if he could harness that absurd storage capacity for his own casting, or the various items he made? The consequences of such a powerful tool reminded him of Jessica. Not the way that Jessica was being abused and borderline-tortured, but the reason his parents had been so dead set on such a thing to begin with. Her natural magical energy pool was almost twice that of his own, so there was no doubt who was more capable of becoming the heir to the family, and inheriting all of their greatest knowledge, arrays, and wealth. Yet, his parents had chosen to mold her into a more 'ideal' heir, as if that wasn't enough, engraving runes into so many layers of her being.

  They'd carved her apart so many times, and every time he would wonder if she might not get back up. It might have been more merciful for her if she didn't. It was a cruel, cruel thing, but it might have been better for her if her pain and her life had been cut short, not that they would ever have allowed that to happen. The last time he had seen her, she had a magical energy pool of just over two thousand units, one of the highest he'd ever heard of. They were likely still finding more ways to raise it, no matter how awful or foul they may be.

  Slowly, he looked over the Command Array, forcing himself to stop thinking of the past. He could worry about that later, he had work to do at the moment. It seemed like it might be a bit rough, but there was an easy enough way to give himself access to the Array's magical energy. He found himself picking up a knife, looking down at it with eyes that reflected so darkly that he almost didn't believe they were his own. Yet, he was definitely not the only one in the workshop at the moment.

  "Jill, could you sterilize this for me? It appears I'll be dealing with something a bit more sensitive."

  She had happily accepted, seemingly unknowing of his intention. It felt bad to deceive her, but she would no doubt know he intended to cut flesh, right? Once she had returned, several minutes later, he had readied a sleeve within which to hold his arm straight. A simple, clean carving of wood in a plank, which he could dispose of after it was done. The look she gave him as she handed him the knife was too knowing, she was aware to at least some degree and seemed to have tacitly approved. If nothing else, any issues she had with it weren't ones she seemed to be ready to voice.

  Perhaps more bizarre than that, was the second pair of eyes he could feel on him as he slid his arm into the groove of the plank. Just outside the workshop, he swore that he could see the glint of plated armor, but mayhaps it was just his imagination. With a deep breath, he gripped the knife in his left hand, bringing it over the Command Array. Carefully, and slowly, he began to cut into his flesh, letting blood slowly drip free as he grit his teeth. It was painful, yes, but not unbearably so. Simple flesh cutting was certainly not the worst thing that anyone in Heliopolis had felt recently, even within the frame of this Distortion alone.

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  Three strokes, at the end of one of the lines the Command Array traced into his flesh. The rune of Ansuz, of wisdom and other runes and of drawing forth the magic of words. For such a basic purpose as helping move magical energy across the barrier between the Array and his body, it would suffice. Of course, one rune was not enough. Slowly, he turned his arm in the groove and found another such endpoint of the Array's hardware, before cutting another shallow Ansuz rune directly over that point. Again, and again, he repeated this cut until each endpoint had been finished, and he had a ring of Ansuz runes circling just a quarter of the way from his wrist to his elbow, as if they were some bizarre bracelet or sleeve-tattoo.

  Soon enough, he finished that ring, and looked back to Jill, realizing he'd made a mistake in his preparations. "Jill, can you get me a sterile cloth? Actually, make that two, I'll need something to bite down on too."

  She looked on, sighing gently. "Are you sure? If you go further than this, I'll really get worried. We set out t'night, you know?"

  He met her eyes as she reminded him, looking into those brown, doe-like eyes. The ones he would never have guessed to belong to 'Jack the Ripper' before he had seen the evidence before his own gaze. He had no idea what she could see in turn, but he saw the slight widening of her eyes when they met his. Was the look on his face scary, then? He decided not to speak, offering her a single, slow and purposeful nod to her question.

  Soon enough, she took out two cloths from a small bag he hadn't noticed. She hadn't worn it when they first entered the Distortion, perhaps it was a new accessory she'd been given as thanks for all her efforts in helping the colonists. Inside seemed to be a mash of several cloths and a few sterilized tools, as if a makeshift field surgery kit had been made out of the bag should she need it. She was dealing with Tadakatsu's loss and the implications in her own ways, his reassurance seemed to just be one of several steps.

  Gently, he placed one cloth in his mouth, before using the other to clean up the blood that had spilled over the wooden groove and his arm. He would need to see what he was doing once more, and his arm was thoroughly covered, even if he hadn't spilled a dangerous amount. Slightly lightheaded, he got the job done adequately enough, smears of blood still coating his arm despite the cloth becoming dark and sticking to the touch. He grit his teeth, setting them deep into the cloth as he set the sterilized knife aside, he would not need it again for this operation. Instead, he slowly raised Beissende Hunde, holding it over his arm and pouring magical energy into it, forming a single rune. Sowilo, rune of the sun, hovered over his arm before unleashing a scorching ray of heat and light.

  He cried out into the cloth as he squeezed his eyes shut, burning the wound shut. It was not for the purpose of cauterization, but rather intentionally scarring the cut over. He would need to make them last both against other possible wounds, and prevent them from healing cleanly to an unblemished state. In a way, he supposed that he was branding his own flesh, but that didn't matter much. This slight pain, and a mark on his arm, was nothing compared to what Jessica had been through every single day. Again, he forced a burn into his arm, having turned it slightly over as the smell of burning flesh assaulted him. He hadn't smelled it at first, too focused on the pain to notice his other senses.

  After several cruel minutes, his focus wavering enough at points that the rune winked out of existence entirely or Beissende Hunde dropped from his hand or he nearly collapsed to the ground, he had managed to more or less brand himself with a ring of scarred, burnt flesh, the runes fried into his own arm. Thankfully, the blood soaking into both the wood and his flesh had prevented any fires from being set, though he found himself trying to just catch his breath. Each use of that beam had burned several dozen units of magical energy, and he was near enough on empty. Yet, someone had left him some meat and vegetables at one point or the next, and he found himself unsure if it was Jill, or if someone else had come and gone without him noticing during the process.

  He didn't have the strength in his legs to make his way to the nearest chair, instead taking a seat on the ground and using his good arm to grab food from the table in front of him. Within an hour or two, his arm would regain most of its function, as the wounds were shallow, but the pain had prevented him from doing anything with it for the time being. After several minutes of taking down pieces of jerky or leek or baked potato, he pushed himself to his feet, the pain now dull and throbbing rather than sharp and unbearable. As he made his way out from the workshop, he saw that it was nearly night. He would be needed to leave out with the rest soon enough, but perhaps this was for the best.

  He had just enough time to place the armor on himself, hiding what he'd done and slipping the cap he'd made on under the helmet before securing it. Within the full plate armor, his arm seared with pain any time he tried to move it, as his sleeve and the metal pressed against his raw, burnt flesh. It would have to do. A measure of pain was nothing in exchange for the power to utilize the Command Array for other uses, dumping potentially a thousand units of magical energy into a single effect. His main worry, of course, was that the Command Array itself would not be so easy to shut off once he began to draw from it. He would have to draw an exceedingly large amount before he could shut off the floodgates, as if pressing shut the door against a voluminous wave of pressurized water.

  Stepping out, he took the topaz with him and slipped it away into a pocket of his coat, which he had draped over the plate, though his maneuverability was cut even further by that. He would need to swap the two's order around when he made it back to Heliopolis. If he made it to Heliopolis.