Inside the Forge of Sorrows, Kenji was drowning in metal.
The automatons of the Third Great War hulking Rank 4 Sentinels and spindly "Wire-Wraiths" didn't attack with logic. They attacked with a localized field of Grief-Static. Every step they took emitted a frequency that forced Kenji to relive the moment of their destruction: the smell of melting copper, the sound of a logic-core shattering, the final command to Self-Terminate.
[STATUS: SENSORY OVERLOAD]
[PSYCHIC INTEGRITY: 52%]
"I am not your commander!" Kenji shouted, but the words were swallowed by the mechanical roar. He realized that to these machines, any human with a high resonance was "The User" the one responsible for their suffering.
He tried to use the Abyssal Heart to erase them, but the Forge pushed back. If he erased the machines, he erased the memory, and if he erased the memory, the Recursion Star would never manifest. The Recursion wasn't just about repetition; it was about the preservation of value through loss.
I have to speak their language, Kenji thought, dodging a rusted hydraulic fist. Not the language of commands. The language of the Scrap.
He sat down in the center of the battlefield. He closed his eyes and opened his core completely, dropping every defense. He didn't use magic; he used Empathy.
[SKILL ACTIVATED: RESONANT REQUIEM]
Kenji began to hum, a low, grinding vibration that mimicked the sound of a failing gearbox. He used his resonance to "touch" every broken circuit in the room. He didn't try to fix them. He acknowledged them.
I see your service, his resonance whispered. I feel the rust in your gears. I carry the weight of your obsolescence.
The machines stopped. The red optics flickered, then turned a soft, pulsing amber. The "Grief-Static" shifted into a low-frequency harmony.
[RECURSION PIECES ACQUIRED: 6/7]
[CONDITION MET: THE SMITH'S COMPASSION]
The battlefield began to dissolve into a single, swirling vortex of silver light. Only one piece remained.
Outside the Furnace-Mind's Jaws:
The sky was a rain of silver fire. The Authority's Reclaimer Units sleek, faceless constructs that looked like liquid mercury descended on gravity-slabs.
"They're bypassing our physical shields!" Zola yelled, her lead-encased fists passing right through a Reclaimer. The construct simply reformed and delivered a high-voltage neural shock that sent her reeling.
"They're Phase-Shifters!" Kael shouted. "Switch to energy-disruption! Mateo, now!"
Mateo slammed his hands onto his console, unleashing a [Harmonic Dissonance]. The silver constructs flickered, becoming solid for a split second.
"Now, Bjorn!"
Bjorn leapt from the top of the Scrap-Venture, his runic axe trailing a wake of fire. He sliced through three Reclaimers while they were phased into reality, but more were already descending.
"There's too many," Elara panted, her Frost Weaver mantle cracked. A Reclaimer had grazed her arm, and the limb was already starting to turn into gray, unresponsive data-sludge. "The High Council didn't send soldiers. They sent Defragmenters."
In the distance, the lead Reclaimer ship a massive, needle-shaped vessel opened its forward hatch. A figure stepped out, floating on a disc of pure light.
It was Inquisitor Vane, the Council's specialist in "Illegal Classes."
"The Scrapsmith is a corruption in the code," Vane's voice carried over the battlefield, cold and amplified. "By the authority of the Architect, this Graveyard is declared a Bad Sector. Initiating Format."
The needle-ship began to glow with a terrifying, white light. It wasn't a beam; it was a Data-Pulse. If it fired, every bit of "scrap" in the Graveyard including the team would be reset to its base components.
Inside the Forge:
Kenji stood before the final piece of the Recursion Star. It wasn't an object. It was a mirror.
In the mirror, he saw the Architect. But the Architect didn't look like a god. He looked like a tired, old Scrapsmith sitting in a white void, surrounded by billions of tiny, flickering lights.
"You want the power to repeat," the Architect's reflection said. "But do you have the courage to endure the loop forever? To be the one who fixes what is always breaking?"
Kenji looked at the reflection. He saw the "Data-Pulse" charging outside. He saw Elara's arm turning to sludge.
"I don't need to endure it forever," Kenji said, reaching into the mirror. "I just need to fix it once, every time it breaks."
He grabbed the reflection's hand.
[FINAL RECURSION PIECE ACQUIRED]
[INTEGRATION COMPLETE: THE SCRAP OF INFINITE RECURSION (RANK S)]
A pillar of neon-blue light erupted from Kenji's chest, piercing through the roof of the Forge, through the Furnace-Mind, and straight into the orange sky of the Graveyard.
[NEW STATUS: RANK 6 - MASTER SCRAPSMITH (EARLY)]
[NEW SKILL: RECURSIVE REPAIR]
[NEW SKILL: ECHO-FORGE]
Kenji didn't walk out of the Forge. He echoed.
One moment he was in the white-hot center; the next, he was standing on the hull of the Scrap-Venture, his presence causing the silver Reclaimers to vibrate until they shattered into harmless liquid.
"Inquisitor Vane," Kenji said, his voice echoing in a recursive loop that sounded like a choir. "Your format has been canceled."
Kenji raised his hand, and the mountains of rust around the ship began to rise. They didn't just move; they re-formed. The broken machines he had comforted in the Forge were rising in the real world, their rusted bodies infused with the blue light of the Recursion Star.
A thousand undead war-machines turned their optics toward the Authority's needle-ship.
"Recycle them," Kenji commanded.