Timeless Assassin

(Planet Vorthas, Inside Amanda's Workshop, Amanda's POV)

*Clink*

*Whirr*

*Sizzle*

The air in Amanda's workshop was thick with the smell of molten alloys and the faint hum of power runes, as copper-tinted sparks showered across the cluttered bench before her.

She leaned back in her chair, grease-stained fingers pressing against her forehead, as her brown eyes glared at the humming contraption in the corner of the room.

"Seven days… that's all you can manage before the filters burn out completely," she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp with frustration, as though the machine itself had personally insulted her intelligence.

"Even though you're the size of a bloody refrigerator and are not even remotely close to being wearable, your lifespan is a mere seven days…..

Like what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?

Leo asked me for a miniature amulet sized protection object, not a life support machine…."

She complained while waving her hands in exasperation, as if the bulky device before her could hear and understand her words.

For the past few months, she had been working on replicating Leo's mana heart and turning it into an artefact for the everyday man, however, it was easier said than done.

Leo's mana heart was special in the sense that it not only purified mana, but it also dissolved the taint within and passed it on-to the bloodstream to be pissed out with urine.

So it was a heart and a kidney combined into one which made it unaffected by how much taint it processed.

However, to do the same with an external device, she had to change the filter every time it went bad, and currently, even though the contraption she had made was the size of a fridge, the filters she put inside it still ran out after a week.

"Leo's mana heart doesn't have this problem. His body just… does it, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

It's like a marvel of evolution.

Draw in mana, strip it clean of impurities, circulate it endlessly, keep the flow stable—simple, elegant, perfect.

He walks around with a flawless design inside his chest while I'm stuck building glorified air conditioners."

Amanda dragged her palms down her face, smudging soot across her cheeks, before letting out a long sigh.

She turned back toward the schematics littered across her bench, messy sketches layered with notes in cramped handwriting, diagrams of core arrays, experimental alloys, and replacement filters.

"The theory, I understand," she continued, talking to no one in particular as her rant filled the room like a second heartbeat.

"I know how the heart draws the mana in, how it breaks it down into its base particles, how it strips away every ounce of waste and leaves behind only pure essence ready for circulation. On paper, I could explain it better than anyone. But translating that theory into practice?" She shook her head, slamming her pen down onto the notes. "That's where everything collapses."

She stood, walking over to the hulking machine, her boots clanging against the steel floor, her eyes narrowing as she watched the steady pulsing of the mana intake vents.

"You do the job, I'll give you that. You pull mana in, you purify it, you make it usable. But you're bulky, you're clumsy, you're unreliable. The filters degrade too quickly, the core doesn't stabilize after prolonged use, and your efficiency drops the moment the environment isn't perfectly balanced. That's not a mana heart—that's a clunky excuse for one."

Amanda placed her hands on the machine, her fingers brushing against the warm metal, as though trying to will it to become better through sheer stubbornness.

"And yet… the fact that you even work at all is still something. You're proof that it's possible. Proof that the concept can be replicated outside of biology. Proof that the miracle in Leo's chest isn't entirely unique to him.

If I can build you, then I can shrink you. If I can shrink you, I can refine you. And if I can refine you, then one day, maybe, I can make the pendant-like artefact that Leo so desperately wants."

She said, as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, muttering to herself in a softer tone now, her mind running faster than her voice could keep up.

"New alloys. That's the key. Something that doesn't corrode under constant mana bombardment, something that won't fracture after prolonged compression.

Maybe layered composites, maybe hybrid cores. If I can find the right material for the filters and the central chamber, I can cut down the size tenfold.

And once I can cut down the size, then bracelets, chest rigs, maybe even implants become possible."

Her gaze drifted to a smaller prototype on her workbench, no larger than a helmet, half-assembled and sparking faintly.

It had failed on her last test, melting itself from the inside out in under an hour, but to her eyes it looked promising.

"I'll keep trying," she whispered, her fingers brushing across the ruined shell as if it were a sleeping child.

"No matter how many times it fails, I'll keep trying. Because if I crack this, then Leo will be very happy…. And when he's very happy, I'll finally pop the question of marriage."

She straightened her back, her exhaustion momentarily drowned beneath the rising tide of her own stubborn will, as she turned back toward the refrigerator-sized device still humming in the corner.

"I've been Leo's girlfriend for over five years now, and it's about time he puts that damn ring on my finger.

And nothing's going to stop me from getting that ring first, and a child next!"

She said to herself, as she decided that she would crack this build no matter what.

*Whirr*

*Crank*

The machine continued to hum, indifferent to her declaration.

But Amanda smiled anyway.

Because she knew she could do this, that she could complete this impossible build somehow.

And because she knew how sweet their married life could be, especially if they had children of their own.