Jonah spent hours feeling tired yet extremely joyful. He familiarized himself with the connection to Shard, learning to feel its quiet presence in the back of his mind.

He practiced keeping it in the Workshop, then letting it wander around the mental space. It was surprisingly obedient, its six legs moving quietly and smoothly across the imaginary floor.

He was so wrapped up in it that he almost missed what time it was. It had been over a day since Seraph had given him his assignment. His week-long deadline wasn’t up yet, but he felt a strange sense of anticipation, a readiness he hadn’t known before.

He had no energy left, just adrenaline, but he felt more powerful than he ever had in his life. He finally had his proof. Now, all he had to do was wait for the judge.

He didn’t have to wait long.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound was so sharp and sudden it made him jump. It wasn’t a polite tap; it was a demand.

There was only one person it could be.

He took a deep breath, pulling together his last bit of self-control. He walked to the door and opened it.

Sergeant Seraph stood there, her arms crossed, her face clearly showed impatience. Her icy eyes looked him over, then quickly moved to the empty room behind him. A hint of disappointment, or perhaps satisfaction, touched the corner of her lips.

“Report,” she said, her voice flat. “Your time isn’t up, but I have a small window in my schedule. So? Have you found a new way to be useless, or do you have something for me?”

The insult was said as if it didn’t matter. She fully expected him to have nothing. She thought he’d stammer out an excuse, ask for more time, and prove he was the total failure she already saw.

The old Jonah, the scrapper who stayed safe by being unnoticed, would have pulled back. But that Jonah hadn’t made life from a rock and a memory.

He met her gaze and said nothing.

Instead, he closed his eyes and reached inward, past the fatigue and the aches, into the quiet darkness of his Workshop. He felt Shard there, waiting patiently. He focused on its form – the six legs, the plated shell, the crystalline edges – and then he focused on the space on the floor right between him and Seraph.

He didn’t push. He pulled.

He made his Progeny appear from his mind, into the world.

The air in the room shimmered, just for a second, like heat haze rising from a summer road. The light seemed to bend and twist, then it came together. With a soft pop, Shard appeared on the polished floor.

It stood perfectly still, its antennae twitching slightly as it processed the sudden flood of new sensory information from the real world.

Seraph froze.

Her whole body went stiff. Her eyes, once full of dismissal, widened just a tiny bit. Her professional calm didn’t break, but for the first time, she showed a true crack in her self-control. Her arms dropped, her right hand going for the knife at her belt. It was how a warrior reacts to danger they don’t know.

“What… is that?” she breathed, her voice tight with a control that couldn’t quite mask her shock. “It’s not a known creature.”

She moved forward carefully, like a predator. She walked around Shard, her eyes sharp, seeing every detail. She saw its stone plates, its razor-sharp crystal edges, and the weird way its mouth parts clicked. This wasn’t some soft, summoned pet. It was a weapon.

Her doubt was shaken, but not gone. It had only changed. A light show was one thing. A physical creature was another. But was it real? Was it solid?

Without another word, she drew her combat knife. The blade was matte black and lethally sharp. Jonah tensed but sent a command to Shard through their link: Stay.

Seraph crouched, her eyes locked on the creature. She reached out and tapped the flat side of the blade against Shard’s back.

CLINK!

The sound was shockingly loud in the quiet room. It wasn’t the soft hit of metal on skin, or the grinding sound of metal on rock. It was a sharp ring as hard steel hit something harder.

She pulled the knife back. Not a scratch. Not a chip. Not even a mark.

The shell was flawless.

Her doubt clearly broke. She looked from the creature’s perfect shell to Jonah, and a new, bigger question filled her eyes.

“Where did you summon this from?” she asked, her voice low. She was trying to fit him into a box she understood. He had to be a Summoner, a genius who didn’t need a magic book or a long spell.

It was the only answer that made sense.

Jonah looked her directly in the eye. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He just stated the fact that would change everything.

“I didn’t summon it,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “I made it.”

Silence.

For a full ten seconds, Sergeant Seraph said nothing. She didn’t move. She just stared at him, the knife still held loosely in her hand. The air in the room grew heavy. He could almost see her mind working, her old beliefs being broken down and built new again.

Summoning was bringing something from somewhere else. Making was creation. It was a power on a completely different level. A power with strategic implications that were terrifying to consider.

Her entire manner shifted. The strict sergeant was gone. The doubting one vanished. The woman who stood up was someone else entirely. Her posture was straighter, her eyes sharper, more calculating. She put her knife away with a firm click.

She was no longer looking at a problematic student. She was assessing a strategic asset. A living, breathing weapon of mass destruction. Its true capabilities yet to be revealed.

When she finally spoke, her voice had no more pride or impatience. It was cold and very serious.

“Explain,” she commanded. “Explain everything. Now!.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep