Chapter 141 - 118 - Combustion

I stood beside the circle as Selene carved sigils into the ground using a blade of silver-tipped chalk. The magic hummed. Energy stirred in the air like a pressure drop before a storm.

Then she twisted the converter open with a softclick.

And for a split second, everything wentstill.

No noise. No breath. Not even time moved.

Then—

Arippletore through the air.

Light bent.

The convertershuddered.

And Helena's shoes all of a sudden caught into fire.

"AAAAHHHH—!!"

"STEP IN THE CIRCLE! NOW!"

"I'M TRYING—!!"

"WHY ARE HER SHOES BURNING?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"Kairi! Transcription! Now!"

"Got it—!!"

* * *

Turns out it was Selene's fault all over again.

Of course it was.

Becausewhy not, right? Who else would be capable of pulling such a feat?

Well, especially when it's done by a sheer of coincidence.

You know, the only person here who can somehow hack the fabric of reality like it's just another cooking recipe only for her has decided toaccidentally burn the stoveagain.

Figuratively. Hopefully.

"I was... experimenting," Selene said with a straight face.

"It's not like I expected it to combust."

"YOU—" Helena practically choked.

"Youusedthe converter without calibrating the residue field! Didn't you?!"

Selene blinked. Slowly. As ifshewas the victim here.

Or at least, she tried her best to sound pure.

"I did calibrate it. Roughly."

Roughly.

That one word carried the weight of a thousand scientific crimes.

Even Azalea winced at her profound clumsiness.

"You realize that if the containment field wasn't stable, the Quasar residue could've—"

"Reacted to my coat, yes," Selene said, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve.

"Hence the smell."

The smell. The ash. The slight flicker of warped air around her collar.

"Wait, wait, wait—" I finally stepped in. "Let me get this straight. Youaccidentally vaporized your own coatbecause...?"

Selene raised a brow. "Because I was analyzing the harmonics of how Quasar responds to spatial mimicry when split by the converter without a buffer agent."

I stared, not getting what she was referring to.

Azalea blinked, probably as confused as I was.

Helena facepalmed.

"Selene," I said, very, very slowly, "this is why we can't have nice things."

"And definitely why we shouldn't let you touch volatile elements unsupervised,"

Helena muttered, dragging a hand down her face.

"It wasn't volatile," Selene said.

"Just mildly temperamental."

"Like you?" I quipped.

She smirked. "You're still on learning progress."

I wanted to punch her. Affectionately.

Possibly with a brick to show how much I love her.

Azalea crouched beside the converter and waved her hand above it, analyzing the residue.

"There's an unusual amount of overlapping elemental threads," she murmured.

"Almost like Quartz and Stellarfusedrather than reacted."

"Wait. Isn't that exactly what you predicted wouldn't happen?" I pointed at Selene.

"Itshouldn'thave happened," Selene said. "Which makes it very exciting that itdid."

Of course she'd say that.

"And you're telling me this... 'Space Splitter-Converter' thing didn't break?" I asked.

"Nope." Selene crouched down beside Azalea.

"In fact, it worked better than expected. It didn't just separate the particles—itsynchronizedthem. That's not in the original blueprint."

I stared at her for a good five seconds.

"Selene. Did you just discover a new state of magical matter byaccidentally blowing up your coat?"

Helena groaned.

"That's how all her breakthroughs start," she muttered. "One fire at a time."

"I consider it a pattern of success," Selene said with a shrug.

"You're going to kill yourself one day," Helena snapped.

"Oh please, I've already done that twice. Allegedly."

I didn't even want to know.

"Anyway," I said, steering the conversation before I could lose more brain cells, "what do youcallthis new phenomenon?"

Selene tilted her head, considering.

"Quasar-Shifted Compound. Or QSC. It's technically still Quasar, but... hybridized."

"Which means... what, exactly?" I asked.

"It means if we replicate the conditions," Azalea said quietly, "we can produce a stable bridge element—one thatretainsdual identities without collapsing."

My brain processed that. Sort of.

"So instead of QuartzorStellar, we have a compound that's both?"

"Exactly," Selene said. "And that could change how alchemic fields are generated. No more dual-casting limits. No more polarization delays. Just one seamless material that acts as both."

"And smells like burnt fabric," I muttered.

"Well," she said, standing again and patting her coat, "science has its casualties."

"You are the casualty."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Azalea stood up beside her, brushing her hands. "It's stable, for now. But we'll need to document everything while the residue's still fresh. Helena?"

"Already on it," Helena said, producing a crystal from her pouch and tapping it. "Visual log recording started. Beginning scan of the converter field."

Selene turned back to me. "Do you still hate science?"

"Only when you're involved."

She smiled. "That's fair."

Then she paused, looking thoughtfully at the converter again.

"Kairi," she said, suddenly serious. "What did you see? The moment it happened?"

"The moment...?" I frowned. "You mean when the Quasar formed?"

"Yes."

I tried to recall. It had happened fast, but—

"There was a pulse," I said. "Like a heartbeat. And then a flicker. Amirrorflicker. For a second, I thought I saw the converter duplicate itself."

Selene nodded slowly. "That confirms it."

"Confirmswhat?"

"That it wasn't a natural fusion. The converter projected a pseudo-spatial image of itself—duplicated its function in microspace. That shouldn't be possible unless..."

"Unless...?"

"Unless the converter has started responding tocognitive imprinting."

She looked at me.

"Youwantedthem to become Quasar, didn't you?"

I stared at her. "You think mythoughtstriggered the converter?"

"I think your expectations subtly influenced the output. This... might be more than just alchemy now."

"So what is it?" I asked.

Selene smiled like a cat who'd found the cream, the fish, and the mouse—all at once.

"Psycho-reactive transmutation."

Azalea gasped.

Helena swore.

And me?

I just sank to the floor and sighed.

Because of course.

Ofcoursemy thoughts were now weaponized.

Just my luck.