He was pushing it. He knew that he was pushing it. That thought continued inside of his head on an automated loop for quite some time while he regained his strength. He should stop. He was not ready. The materials were too potent.

Thoughts of failure percolated inside his mind. They entered every part of him, suffused him. Blackthorne became one with the realization that he had almost reached a point beyond his capabilities and it could have cost him dearly…. And, yet.

He grinned at the materials even as sweat rolled down his face. Despite his inner monologues and the sensible nature of his internal musings, he could not help but to be excited. Something was happening. There was a momentum to the current events that he could not deny.

Never one to believe in something like destiny, even before his twisted memories began to reveal certain startling truths about reality, the notion that he was part of a historic moment was ludicrous. Yet, he truly believed that this was something that needed to be done, and before the coming of the dawn.

Once his life force recovered fully, he set about making preparations. His ring mastery skill was no longer worth much, as the rings that he could craft took life force to equip. Even though the life force required was less than what he might store inside of them on average, it was still pointless as equipping them would lower his normal life force levels.

However, at this moment things were different. While the usage of most rings did not help him from moment to moment any longer, plus he could draw life from the world around him and form mana, they did still have one use. He could equip several of them at once and slightly bolster his total life force. It was not that useful on its own in the long run, but for a single use of an ability that would drain all his life and then some it would be a great help.

The cheapest materials that he had at hand were bits of grass. So, as he had done so often in his dream life, Blackthorne made several grass rings. He refined them until he had the best versions that he could make and noted that a few of them could hold four points of life force or more.

“With my fancy decoder ring,” he said while he glanced at the black ring on his finger, “and a few of these grass rings that’ll be more than forty extra life force.”

He stood up, materials and armor in hand, then moved to an unspoiled area of grass land. He would need to drain the land once more on top of his current bolstered abilities.

Once his rings were charged and equipped, he waited until his strength was completely renewed then limbered up a bit. He cracked his knuckles or tried too. The joints did not want to pop. He rolled his neck and stretched a bit. Nothing more than a bit of procrastination, and he knew it, but it helped him move forward.

He placed his materials and the armor in front of him then allowed his hands to hover above them. It was time. Blackthorne began his work by attempting to envision the ideal armor for his needs. It would need to be intimidating, but easy to move around in, while also maintaining itself as a proper piece of armor.

The moment that he began using synergy, he sensed that something was wrong. All of his rings fired off at once, the sudden discharge destroying the grass rings as he knew it probably would. However, what he did not account for was the fact that his special dark lord ring would also be destroyed!

He nearly lost control of his power when he realized that the synergy effect literally converted his favorite accessory into light and drew it into the mix. The power drain intensified rapidly. He was immediately forced to draw power from the grassland.

Grass dried up, and became brittle in seconds, but the glowing materials did not form together. Soon, Blackthorne dropped to the ground in exhaustion as his life force was exerted. However, to his growing horror the effect did not stop.

A fierce howl echoed from the materials as they rose into the air. The energy within his body, energy recharge by the collected souls, began to flow out of him and into the space between the materials. A brilliantly pulsating light, an eldritch green in color, grew in that space. It cast light upon the world and where that light touched, life was drawn away.

The blood vessels burst in his nose. Blood leaked from the corners of his eyes. “Stop,” he croaked through parched lips as it seemed that even the water in his body was being absorbed. A veritable dried husk, he did not feel it when pressure bruises formed along the flesh covering his spine.

Howling for more life, more souls, the high-grade materials drew every scrap of energy that they could get from him before he lost consciousness and then when he had nothing left to give it reached out and ripped it from the grass beyond.

Red lightning crackled through a dark black mist that soon permeated the area. Blackthorne saw none of it. At this point he barely counted as alive and was nowhere near conscious.

Sonja and Branwen saw what was happening to him and rushed over. However, they soon collapsed as the energy hungry work continued unabated. They gasped for air as the life was quickly ripped from their bodies. However, they did not perish. For a time, it seemed as though the synergy working would consume the whole of the dream world, but that was nothing more than fanciful nonsense. This final boost of life force proved to be enough. Whatever fell spirt dwelled within the heart of that burning star that existed between the materials was sated at last.

Nothing moved for a time. Everyone lost consciousness. However, at the center of that maelstrom of life and souls something new began to form. The materials drew together with the armor. Instead of downgrading into something smaller, such as a bracelet, the sacrificed life force and addition of the dark lord’s ring had given birth to an item of truly epic proportions, but legendary qualities.

It gleamed darkly, black mist and red lightning all around it. A set of abyssal full plate armor with scale underneath. Accented in gold, the stylized wings emblazoned on its chest glowed brightly in its golden nature. The fanciful copper and iron armor from before was now jet black, darker than the night itself despite its glow.

Blackthorne was not wrong on either count. This was a moment of destiny. He also, had not been ready.