Location: Upper Vanyress District – The Archive Rim
Time: [Post-Anchor Sync / Status: Mentally Disheveled but Hilariously Intact]
Ren stumbled out of the Deep Spire Archives like a man who'd won a lottery ticket, got hit by a carriage, and then high-fived fate on the way up.
He looked tired.
He looked confused.
He looked... upgraded.
BLAZE (nudging his shoulder):
"You good?"
REN:
"Nope."
FROST (softly scanning him):
"Anchor integration still stabilizing.
Also, your emotional stress signature says: 'screaming internally with a smile.'"
REN (thumbs up):
"Sounds about right."
As they climbed the final stone steps back into daylight, the quiet tech-city hum of Vanyress welcomed them back.
Except now? The air tasted a little… different.
Sharper. Lighter.
Like the whole district felt that the vault had shifted.
SPACE (floating above them, eating a cosmic donut):
"So, Riftboy. You synced the anchor. Saved the day.
What now? Gonna run for galactic mayor?"
TIME (flickering in mid-cartwheel):
"Let's go to a bar!
If we don't almost die in the next six hours, it's technically a vacation."
Ren blinked.
REN:
"…Bar?"
SNARKSTEEL (appearing as a sword-hilt sticking out of Ren's back):
"You heard him. We're getting a drink. I almost got absorbed by emo-you.
I need something fermented and screaming."
Ren opened his mouth to object.
He did not succeed.
🪩 Cut to: The Drifting Fang (Bar & Story-Exchange Tavern, Vanyress Upper Ring)
This place was packed with scholars, rogue driftwalkers, and info-brokers wearing memory-cloaks. The drinks were strange — glowing in colors that probably weren't food-safe — and every table was whispering secrets the way normal bars shared bad puns.
Ren sat at a booth with the gang, cradling something in a cup that looked suspiciously alive.
BLAZE (cheersing):
"To not dying today!"
FROST (raising her glass of glowing blue logic fluid):
"To tripping into victory."
TIME (smirking):
"To the fact that the Core still doesn't have a user manual."
SPACE (toasting with a cup of liquid nebula):
"And to Ren, who synced with a forbidden anchor using Bluetooth and spite."
REN (drinking):
"I hate all of you."
The table clinked with awkward, beautiful harmony.
Outside, the suns of Solmerea turned a deep rose-gold.
The Core inside Ren's chest pulsed softly.
No alarms.
No chaos.
Just a moment of calm.
AETHERIUM CORE (text only, playful):
> SYNC LEVEL: 87% > STATUS: VIBIN' > NEXT OBJECTIVE: NOT YOUR CONCERN (YET)
And for once?
Ren let the moment breathe.
No running.
No collapsing timelines.
Just drinks, weird friends, and one barstool that definitely wasn't from this dimension.