He rapped his fingers on the glass. It was surprisingly durable – likely runed, if he had to guess. There should have been no other way for it to survive a fall of this height. Angel licked his lips and examined his arm.

Before he could start adding new components into it, he had to strip off all the damaged ones. He used the scribe to carefully disassemble several of the plates covering the machinery, then started to work out the broken pieces and set them to the side.

The internal damage was just as bad as the external damage, but at least a lot of it appeared to be salvageable. By the time Angel finished, a small pile of scraps had built up on the ground beside him. Open wires hung from his arm, which rested limply before him.

Now that all of the damaged parts were out of the way and had no chance to further destroy his arm, he reached up to his shoulder, working the scribe for several minutes. With a hiss, the arm detached from his side.

He set it down in his lap, trying to ignore the strange feeling that came with losing that much bodyweight. He felt naked without it. Every part of him longed to rush and put the arm back together as quickly as possible. He didn’t let that happen.

Angel’s movements were slow and methodical as he used the scribe to draw a thin line in the top of a plate, continuing the motion and using the raw magic to carve a hole into it. It took nearly five minutes for the metal to finally pop out.

He inserted the glass tube, routing the wires to the ones within his arm. He held an orb of magic to the power source and the tube hummed to life, emitting a faint red light. However, it was too dim. He didn’t even have to test anything to know that the tube wasn’t going to be enough.

With a sigh, Angel glanced around the room. The tubes hadn’t been particularly rare in this room of the dungeon, and he was pretty sure that at least a few of them had fallen along with him.

It took him nearly an hour to confirm his suspicions, and another two hours to find two more of them. He found some other useful bits as well, including several larger, thick glass tubes about the length of half his forearm. They had thick spirals of metal running through them and weighed a considerable amount. The thicker tubes looked like they’d been made in the same fashion as the other ones, but their size and heft implied they might be for a different purpose. Throughout his search, Angel kept to the boulders and rocks that had fallen around him. He had no desire to venture forth without a functioning arm.

He returned to his little cranny and sat back down beside the pile of parts, setting his new treasures down beside himself. Angel lost track of time as he carefully created three more holes in the top of his arm, inserting the other small tubes beside the first one.

A test of the power source lit them all up successfully. A grin flickered across Angel’s face, but the repairs were still far from over. His orb was drained and vanished almost instantly. The converters drew much more energy than what his arm normally did.

Angel pressed his lips together. His mind was starting to feel a little fuzzy, so he set aside the power problem temporarily and started on the rest of the repairs. Many of the small gears had only been bent, so he was able to hammer them back into shape and return them to their original position.

The pistons were a different story. Luckily, one of the machines that had been built into the wall contained several pistons of its own that Angel was able to liberate. It took a considerable amount of modification, but he was able to get them largely workable.

Angel spent a moment silently thanking whoever had decided that so much Old World machinery should share similar parts. He tested each of the pistons, ensuring they worked, before turning his attention to the grappling hook spool.

The line itself was incredibly tough and had survived the trip largely unharmed. However, the mechanism that retracted the hook had been thoroughly fried. He took one look at the blackened motor and sighed, working it free with the scribe and setting it to the side.

He scanned his new components, but nothing was small enough. He’d made the motor himself, so he wasn’t particularly surprised. With a sigh, Angel removed the entire system and slipped it into his travel pack. If he escaped, he could make a new one.

That brought him right back to the power problem. Angel chewed his lower lip for a few moments, then picked up one of the thick tubes. The wiring didn’t seem to be too different from the small ones, so he sent a small orb of energy into it.

The metal spiral within it grew ever so slightly brighter. It remained that way for nearly a minute before slowly fading away, sparking at the exit wire.

“Some sort of storage,” Angel mused to himself. “I can work with that.”

There was enough room for four of the tubes if he essentially wrapped them around the outside of his arm. They were a little unwieldy, but it could have been worse. Angel got to work, carefully attaching the wires and welding them together with the scribe. By the time he was done, the energy storages laid on the ground around his arm, connected by a mesh of colored wire.

He sent another spark of magic into the power source, sweat trickling down the back of his neck from the exertion of using so much magic. It vanished instantly, barely lighting up the storage tubes for more than a second.

Angel pressed his lips together. It worked, but now he needed something strong enough to actually power the arm. He searched through the scrap around him, then through his travel bag.

He knew his artifacts well enough to know that they wouldn’t do much to power the arm, even if he had time to modify them. The few remaining canisters might work better, but were one time usage only.

Angel’s gaze fell on the wooden box containing the relic. He reached out, popping the top open. Faint red light washed over the room and he held his breath for a few moments. It was beautiful, and he had absolutely no idea what it did.

Thousands of people would do just about anything to get their hands on the relic and figure out what it did. It was enough for most to retire and live a comfortable life, although the thought of giving it away filled Angel with physical pain.

He turned the relic over in his hand. There were no seams or apparent ways to take it apart. Angel had absolutely no idea what it did, but he did know one thing. Relics had a lot of power inside them.

Angel lifted the artifact out of the box. His fingers tingled at its touch, but he didn’t stop to think about it. He brought the small cube over to the power supply on his arm and slipped it in. The arm shuddered.

Slowly, the thick tubes started to fill with a blueish-pink light. A faint hum filled the air and the smaller tubes at the shoulder lit up as well. Angel kept his hand close to the relic, prepared to snatch it out at the first sign of anything going wrong.

The light in the storage units grew brighter, but nothing seemed to break. Angel licked his lips and laid down next to the arm, inserting it back onto the connectors on his shoulder. He reconnected the pistons, then double checked to make sure that everything was properly attached.

With bated breath, Angel tried to wiggle a finger on his right hand. It moved. A slow grin crept across his face. He didn’t dare move the arm too much with all the unconnected parts lying around it, but it seemed to be functional.

A faint flicker of purple caught Angel’s attention. His elation vanished as the purple light grew brighter.

“No! This isn’t for you,” Angel hissed, reaching for the relic. A spark of electricity jumped off it, zapping his finger. He yanked his hand back with a curse.

The purple light pulsated and the light in the storage units started to dim. Angel’s eyepiece dinged. He jerked his head to the side, snapping it down and squinting at his arm.

Installing new module: 75% complete.

…

…

Installing new module: 100% complete.

Energy Source sufficient. Initiating housing modification for proper containment

3…

2…

1…

Hot fire coursed down Angel’s arm. The metal that made up his arm started to liquify, flowing across it and shifting positions. He cursed, scrabbling at his shoulder and trying to remove it before it could burn him alive. It was no use. The metal seemed to be welded to him as tightly as his own flesh.

Angel gritted his teeth, but the pain started to subside as quickly as it had come. His eyes widened as he took in what happened to his arm. The patchwork of plates had turned to a much more cohesive structure, with gaps to allow for movement. His rough welding had turned smooth and almost beautiful.

More importantly, the thick glowing tubes had been absorbed into the arm seamlessly, as if they’d always been there. The purple light faded away and the Star Fragment seemed to retreat, satisfied with its work.