CHAPTER 87: BREAKING POINTS

Marcus woke to another intense day of training in the modern world. His security course had become increasingly valuable, teaching combat techniques that could save his life in either world. He spent extra time at the gun range, pushing his prototype rifle design through endless modifications. Each failure taught him something new, but progress felt agonizingly slow when he knew Malachar's army was gathering.

When he returned to Valdris, the looming siege threat made every normal activity feel surreal. Even though destruction approached, Marcus didn't want his innovations to go to waste. He spent some of his mushroom earnings printing children's alphabet books with Sara's cousins during their spare time. Education mattered, especially if they survived what was coming.

His next priority was securing Temir full time. Marcus walked to Lord Hammond's district and requested permission to hire the young blacksmith for an extended project.

"The boy's quite skilled," Lord Hammond's aide Kalu said. "But we need him for camp construction."

"I'm working on weapons that could defend the city. Temir's precision is essential."

Kalu considered this seriously. "Your reputation speaks for itself. You have permission."

Marcus brought Temir to the warehouse behind their shop, where they could work without interruption. The young blacksmith examined their current setup with professional interest.

"Not bad for a refugee operation," Temir said. "What are we building next?"

Marcus pulled out his carefully hidden rifle designs. "While our sewing machine prototypes are being tested, I want you to start making these."

Temir studied the drawings with growing confusion. "What the hell is this?" His work ethic and his language never matched his professional skills.

"This is a personal defense device. For my protection."

"You pulled me from the camps to make your personal toys?" Temir's voice carried real irritation.

"It's not a toy. When I showed you the sewing machine, you didn't question me this much."

"Because I understood those designs. One was an advanced thread maker, the other had needles, so I could visualize the finished product. This thing makes no sense."

Marcus lowered his voice and moved closer. "This device will be a powerful asset against Malachar."

Temir's attitude changed immediately. "Why didn't you say so, my lord?" He grabbed a hammer and swung it in the air mockingly. "Then I'll get right to it."

But his enthusiasm faded as he examined the workspace. "Plus, you don't have proper facilities for this kind of precision work. Look, let me talk to my master again. I'll return to camp for now. If the sewing machines work out, I can create more. When I have free time from camp duties."

"Look, I understand your people need you. Hammond's folk are quite organized, unlike Drakmoor residents. But I swear this weapon is specifically designed to fight Malachar. In fact, it's so powerful I don't want any copies floating around."

"I don't know, Marcus. This seems like a lot of secretive work."

Marcus felt pressure building from all directions. "Please, I'm begging you. I have a ton of other responsibilities. I have to inform the city lords about an upcoming..." He caught himself before revealing too much.

"Upcoming what?"

"Look, this project will probably take you a week to craft each component and the bullet casings. After that, I'll send you back to camp and only call you for modifications."

Temir examined the detailed drawings more carefully. "Most of these pieces are too small for standard forging. I'll need to create individual molds for each component."

"You're a genius. You can handle this."

After persuading Temir to accept the project, Marcus confronted his next daunting challenge. He needed the Academy’s support to train Palwin, yet Professor Thaddeus had made it clear since Master Thymon’s death that Marcus was unwelcome. Even so, Palwin’s portal abilities could prove vital for whatever mission Celestine had in mind

Marcus's stress levels kept increasing. Everything seemed on the verge of collapse, with new crises appearing faster than he could address existing ones.

At the Academy entrance, Marcus paused before a new mural honoring Master Thymon. The artwork depicted a young version of the ancient mage with scaled silver wings spread behind him, capturing his dragon transformation. Marcus felt a pang of loss, remembering the wisdom and support the old master had provided.

"You sure about this, Tom?" Marcus asked as they approached the headmaster's office with Palwin following like an obedient dog. "Professor Thaddeus has time for us?"

"After yesterday's discussion, I asked him, and he said to come by during lunch break. It's now or you'll have to find him between classes."

"He still teaches?" Marcus was surprised. "I guess he's young enough to handle multiple responsibilities."

Tom knocked on the door. "Sir! Tom of Millhaven. Can we come in?"

After receiving confirmation, they entered. The office had changed dramatically since Master Thymon's time. The old master's belongings were stuffed into corners and bookshelves to make room for Professor Thaddeus's more modern approach. Personal artifacts and mystical instruments had been replaced with administrative documents and academic texts.

"Marcus, welcome back," Professor Thaddeus said with political courtesy that obviously meant nothing. "Even though you parted ways with the Academy, you are always welcome here."

The words stung because Marcus remembered how the professor had essentially blamed him for Master Thymon's death and asked his family to leave the Academy immediately after the funeral.

"Professor, or should I say Headmaster now. I came seeking your help. My friend Palwin here is a traumatized refugee, but she has exceptional magical abilities."

"What kind of abilities?"

"Without any training or formal education, she can manifest something that's considered mythical. Professor, she can open portals. Not just summoning or illusion magic, but actual teleportation."

Professor Thaddeus looked skeptical. "That's impossible. And you say she's completely untrained? Why doesn't she speak for herself?"

"Sir, that's one of the problems. She also has unique personal traits that need professional attention."

"Marcus, I understand you want to return to the cozy arms of the Academy, but bringing your troubled friends and claiming they have secret powers isn't the way to do it."

"Sir, I swear it's not like that. Palwin, please speak for yourself. Explain your situation."

Palwin looked around the room for the first time since entering. She walked to the stuffed bookcase and pulled out a scroll, pointing at it and showing it to the professor. "I used to live in a place like this. Cleaning their messes and maintaining equipment. After the Celestine woman rescued me and brought me here, now I live with Sara and her mother."

While she chronologically explained her life, Marcus realized she'd pulled the exact same scroll Master Thymon had shown him when he'd first revealed his dual world existence. It contained sketches of Malachar's coal power plant. She must have recognized a tiny piece among all the stored documents. Her visual memory was incredible.

Professor Thaddeus interrupted his thoughts. "Marcus, even if she has unique abilities beyond our understanding of magic, she clearly cannot control them. Please stop wasting my time. Tom, get back to your classes. Marcus, please take your friend and get her real help, not academic assistance."

"But sir, if she could gain even minimal control over her abilities, it would be invaluable for defending the city."

The professor stood up, took the scroll from Palwin's hands, and dismissed them curtly. He hadn't even listened to Marcus's explanations.

"Sorry, Marcus," Tom said as they walked outside. "But we can find another way. You always do."

But Marcus wasn't listening to his cousin's reassurances. Why did everything have to be this difficult?

As Tom walked to his classes Marcus was feeling overwhelmed by his duties. Normal people dealt with problems one at a time. But he had to handle a dark lord's invasion, cosmic world seed missions, and the increasing divide between locals and refugees. He couldn't even think about all the responsibilities without feeling overwhelmed.

Everything was creating pressure that built exponentially. Marcus felt his vision darkening, his breathing turning into frantic panting. I'm having a panic attack, he realized. The recognition didn't help. If anything, it made the symptoms worse.

Before he passed out completely, he managed to say to Palwin, "Palwin, if I pass out, take me to... take me home." Then darkness claimed him.