The sun was shining like it was auditioning for a role in a Disney movie, and the air at Camp Half-Blood felt charged with energy—as if the universe itself was waiting for Harry and Jean to get their act together. They were standing on a patch of grass that, honestly, looked like it had been through a few epic battles. You know, the kind of battles where it's mostly fire, destruction, and lots of smoke.
"Alright, Jean," Harry said, leaning on his staff as if it was a walking stick on a lazy afternoon stroll. "Let's see how much you've improved. Last time, you nearly singed your own eyebrows off. We can't have that. I need to keep you around for at least another couple of decades, you know."
Jean—who, let's face it, could burn down a forest without breaking a sweat—was glaring at him with the fiery intensity of a storm about to hit. "You're lucky I'm trying to be mature about this, Harry," she said, her voice calm but with an edge that could've sliced through a diamond. "I don't need your 'help.' This time, I'm going full Phoenix mode."
"Phoenix mode, huh?" Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Is that like 'Super Saiyan' or more like a 'being on fire' thing? I'm honestly hoping for the second one; I like a good spectacle."
Jean ignored his teasing, focusing hard. Flames began to flicker to life in her hands, swirling with a mix of gold and crimson, the colors almost as fiery as the look she shot him. "Shut up and watch," she said, her voice cool but determined.
With a single flick of her wrist, Jean sent a fiery arrow flying toward the target. It shot through the air... and promptly swerved to the left, burying itself into the dirt with all the grace of a cat trying to learn how to swim.
Harry blinked. Then, he burst out laughing. "I mean, you tried! I'm proud of you! It's like... it's like a fire-powered boomerang, if that boomerang was highly ineffective and in desperate need of a GPS."
Jean didn't laugh. In fact, she didn't even flinch. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and gathered more fire in her hands, reconfiguring it into another arrow. This time, she looked less at Harry and more at the target. "Alright, this time, it's going down."
The next arrow soared through the air, much straighter this time, hitting the target with a thud. It wasn't a bullseye, but it was progress.
Harry let out an exaggerated gasp. "Ooh, you hit it! Next stop: professional fire archer!"
Jean looked at him with a mixture of pride and annoyance. "Don't get cocky, Potter. Just because you can breathe fire doesn't mean you're the king of the flames."
"Oh, I am. I mean, seriously—did you see that last shot? That was epic." Harry smiled as he crossed his arms, giving her a smug look. "But fine, I'll show you how it's really done. Watch and learn."
And just like that, Harry took a deep breath, the kind of breath that made you think he was about to deliver some kind of cosmic speech to the universe. When he exhaled, a massive jet of fire shot from his mouth with the force of a dragon with an espresso addiction. The flames twisted in the air, forming into serpentine shapes before dissipating in a final, dramatic flare of heat.
Jean blinked. Then she blinked again. "Okay, that was definitely a lot of drama. Bravo. You should go audition for a role in some fire-breathing dragon movie. I'm sure they'd love you."
"I know, right?" Harry said, casually wiping his hands on his pants as if he hadn't just pulled off the coolest party trick in the world. "I'm basically the fire-breathing superstar of the cosmic universe. Not that it's a competition or anything."
Jean crossed her arms, clearly trying not to smile. "No, of course not. But just wait till I get this fire thing under control. You won't be so smug then."
Harry was about to respond when something weird happened. Jim—the magical staff that was currently in Wand form, and never not a diva—shifted slightly in its holster on Harry's arm. It hummed in that way it did when it was getting its magical groove on.
"Not now, Jim," Harry muttered, though it was the kind of mutter that only half-heartedly rejected the inevitable. "We're trying to do the whole 'training' thing."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Is your staff... okay?"
"Is it ever?" Harry groaned. He pulled Jim out of its holster, feeling the familiar sizzle of energy surge through his arm. The staff—currently in its wand form—let out a little "pop," almost like it was trying to get Harry's attention. "Alright, Jim. You want to show off now, too? I literally have a crowd. The crowd's Jean, but still. They count."
Jean gave him a bemused look. "Your staff is a weirdo, isn't it?"
Harry sighed dramatically, holding Jim up like he was about to give a speech. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like having an overly enthusiastic magic wand that never shuts up. But it's been with me for, like, ages, so we have an understanding. Mostly, it's just a glorified mood ring that thinks it's hilarious."
Before Jean could say anything else, Jim—being Jim—let out a gleeful zap. A bright stream of fire burst from the staff, shooting like a blazing serpent right around Jean, looping and twisting in the air before vanishing into nothingness.
Jean jumped back in surprise. "Okay, now I'm impressed. That... that was way cooler than anything you did."
Harry grinned, twirling Jim in his hand like a master magician. "See? I told you. Jim's a bit of a show-off, but he's got style."
Jean crossed her arms, her lips twitching. "Uh-huh. Well, I've got style too, so let's see if I can get this fire thing down before you really start getting smug."
"Oh, I'll keep the smugness in check... for now." Harry shrugged, a grin still plastered on his face. "But, you know, now that I'm the cosmic monkey king, it's hard not to have a little swagger." He paused, narrowing his eyes at the target. "Speaking of, I'm definitely not going to let you win this one. Not unless you get really good, and I mean really good."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "You want me to be better than you, Harry?"
"Not better," he said, tapping his chin. "But at least on par. It's a friendly competition, after all."
As they both got ready for another round, Harry couldn't help but glance down at Jim, who was vibrating with barely contained excitement.
"Don't think you're off the hook, buddy," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You're not the only one with fire tricks. But you—" he pointed to Jean, "—you better be prepared for some serious rivalry."
Jean just smirked, holding out her hands again, ready to give it another shot. And Harry? Well, he was ready to show off just a little bit more.
—
Harry wasn't in the mood for subtlety. With Jim floating by his side, flapping around in a way that definitely defied the laws of physics (and probably good taste), he marched toward the Forge like it was his personal runway. The staff, its golden shaft swaying casually, seemed to be enjoying itself. "Look at me," Jim practically hummed, his golden dragon-head nodding like it was nodding to a beat. "Look at me, Lokison. I'm the Beyoncé of magical staffs. Bow down."
Harry didn't even give him a second glance. He was used to this by now. Jim had a thing about self-admiration that bordered on "I'm your best friend and also your personal life coach." And yeah, it got old. Real fast. "Focus, Jim," Harry muttered, not even bothering to look at the staff. "We've got business to attend to. Save the dancing for later."
Jim groaned theatrically, rolling his dragon eyes. "Aw, come on! Just one little twirl? For old time's sake? I promise I won't throw out my back. This body is flexible, you know. Almost as flexible as my personality, if I do say so myself!"
Harry just sighed. "You're gonna throw yourself out of commission one of these days. And then I'll have to carry you around like a heavy stick. Wait, I already do that."
Jim huffed, sulking in the air. "Rude."
As they reached the Forge, Harry noticed the unmistakable rhythmic sound of a hammer striking metal. Beckendorf was at work, just as Harry expected. The boy had a rhythm to his hammering, almost like it was an extension of himself, like the metal was his canvas and the hammer his brush. You'd think someone who spent their days covered in sweat, sparks flying in their face, and burning things for a living would be gruff, right? Wrong. Beckendorf was as cool as a cucumber in a freezer.
And when he noticed Harry approaching, there wasn't even the slightest hint of surprise in his eyes. Like he knew Harry would show up sooner or later. Beckendorf was one of those guys. Always a step ahead, always thinking, always ready.
"Harry," Beckendorf greeted with a nod. "What's up? Need something forged or are we just here for the riveting conversation?"
Harry grinned. "Actually, I've got something for you. But it's gonna be a bit... different."
Beckendorf raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He was used to Harry's unconventional ways, after all. With a flourish, Harry reached into his pouch and pulled out something wrapped in worn leather. He unwrapped it with a dramatic flair, and what was revealed looked like—well, bones. But not just any bones. These were dragon bones. The kind that made your jaw drop and your spine tingle with a mix of awe and terror.
Beckendorf didn't flinch. He wasn't that kind of guy. But he did pause, examining the bundle carefully. "Shou-Lao... You've been carrying around dragon bones for how long, and this is the first time I'm hearing about it?"
Harry shrugged. "What can I say? I've been busy. Saving the world, becoming the next Monkey King, dealing with emotional baggage. You know, the usual."
Beckendorf's eyes flickered over the bones again, the wheels turning. "Shou-Lao, the Immortal Dragon, huh? This is—well, it's a lot. But I think I can work with this."
"You mentioned before that bones might work like bone coal," Harry said, leaning in. "If we use this stuff properly, we can refine Celestial Bronze. The carbon from the bones would strengthen the metal. Not to mention, dragon bones have... character. You can't forge something this powerful and not feel the energy it carries. It's like transferring a bit of the dragon's soul into whatever we make."
Beckendorf grunted in agreement, carefully picking up a rib. "You're right. This could be amazing. The symbolism alone could make these weapons something else entirely. Imagine—swords, shields, something worthy of the gods, forged from the bones of the immortal dragon."
Harry's grin was practically infectious. "Exactly. And the symbolism is everything. Imagine wielding a weapon made from this. It's not just a weapon—it's a piece of history. It's immortal."
Beckendorf held the bone up to the light, inspecting it. "I'm definitely going to need some of this. I'll take the strongest parts—the claws, the ribs, maybe the jaw. That's more than enough to make a few impressive weapons." He motioned to the massive chunk of spine left over. "This, though... It's too big to work with easily. What do you want me to do with this?"
Harry, looking satisfied, glanced at Jim. "Well, Beckendorf, I've got a better idea."
Jim, who had been floating lazily in the background, perked up at the mention of his name. "Did I hear better? Is it snack time already? Please tell me it's snack time! I've been on a strict magical diet of pure attitude and sarcasm for the last hour. My metabolism is spiking, buddy. I need fuel."
Harry held out the staff in front of him, eyes sparkling. "Jim, what's the verdict? You feel like getting a little extra boost today?"
Jim, the ultimate drama queen, flipped his golden dragon-head in the air with a flourish, emitting a sound like an excited puppy. "Do I feel like it? Oh, Harry, baby, I was born for this!" He practically leaped into the air, his dragon-head spinning like a propeller.
Beckendorf, standing there with his arms crossed, looked between Harry and the floating staff. "Wait a second. You're telling me you're just going to—"
"Jim," Harry said, cutting him off, "absorb the bones. Take what you need."
Beckendorf gaped, his mouth hanging open slightly. "That... That's not even possible."
Harry gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, it's possible. Trust me, I've seen it. Just don't ask too many questions, okay?"
Without further ado, Jim's golden head shot up like a rocket, his mouth opening wide with a deafening crack. "Here we gooooo!" Jim shouted like he was about to jump off a cliff and into a pool of liquid gold. The massive chunk of dragon spine lifted into the air, floating toward him as if by sheer willpower. The bones cracked and groaned as they were absorbed into the staff's swirling magic, which glowed like molten gold in a furnace.
Beckendorf was frozen in place, mouth slightly open in disbelief. "I—how... how is this even happening?!"
"Welcome to my world," Harry said with a grin. "It's a weird place."
Jim's dragon-head pulsed with satisfaction as the bones were consumed. "Oh yeah, baby, that was good. I feel unbeatable now. Like I could take on a whole army of immortals and still have time to take a nap afterward. Let's do this, world. You just got a taste of the dragon power!"
Harry chuckled, leaning against the workbench. "Great. Now you're invincible. This is just what we need, Jim. A staff with a superiority complex."
Jim did a little twirl in the air, the glowing magic still radiating from him. "Superiority complex? Nah, man. Just a confidence complex. There's a difference."
Beckendorf, still processing what had just happened, shook his head. "You just gave your staff a dragon's bones... and you're acting like it's no big deal?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we work with dragon-adjacent calamities all the time, Beckendorf. This is just the next level."
Jim's head puffed up even bigger, practically glowing. "Exactly! I am now the legendary, immortal Riyu Jingu Bang. Bow down to the dragon, mortals!"
Harry, clearly enjoying this more than he should, looked over at Beckendorf. "You ready to get back to work now, or do you need a moment to process the fact that you've just witnessed one of the most ridiculous things to ever happen in a forge?"
Beckendorf just smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, I think I'll need a moment... but sure. Let's make some magic happen."
—
Beckendorf was in full blacksmith mode, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed as he stared at the pile of dragon bones in front of him. He'd always been meticulous with his work—an artist when it came to metal. The bones needed to be properly prepared before he could start the smelting process for the Celestial Bronze 2.0, but Harry was getting antsy.
"Alright, Beck," Harry said, leaning over the workbench with that excited grin of his—the one that made you feel like he was about to drop something absolutely brilliant on you. "So, you know how we were talking about the fire we need? The thing is, I've got an idea."
Beckendorf looked up, clearly skeptical. "Do I want to hear this?"
Harry just nodded. "Oh yeah, you're gonna love it. But we're not just using regular fire. We need something that's—how should I put it—super-powered, ridiculously hot, and probably a little bit out of your comfort zone."
Beckendorf raised an eyebrow. "You're not talking about throwing one of your firebombs in there, are you?"
Harry snorted. "No, I have something... better. Something magical."
"Magical?" Beckendorf repeated, clearly intrigued but also a bit dubious. "What, like... a dragon's breath or something?"
Harry gave a dramatic pause, leaning in like he was about to reveal some ancient secret. "Better. Jean Grey. She's got the Phoenix Force now. And the Phoenix's fire?" He rubbed his hands together, like he was about to conjure a spell. "It's not just fire. It's creation. It's rebirth. It's like... fire from the gods. Or, in this case, fire from a really powerful cosmic entity."
Beckendorf's eyes widened. "Jean? You're telling me you want to bring in Jean Grey and—"
"Yes, I do," Harry interrupted, practically bouncing on his heels now. "Her fire is the perfect catalyst. It'll supercharge the smelting process, make the Celestial Bronze 2.0 stronger—stronger than anything we've ever forged."
Beckendorf paused, processing. "Alright, alright. That does sound... insane enough to work. But you're saying she's going to just what? Light up the forge with the Phoenix Force? I mean, you're asking for a little bit of cosmic chaos, don't you think?"
"Chaos? Pfft. Chaos is overrated," Harry said. "Besides, this isn't about chaos—it's about creation. And I have a theory: if we get the right kind of fire, the kind Jean can summon, it'll make the Celestial Bronze even more powerful. It'll give the metal a kind of rebirth. It'll be stronger, more durable... more legendary."
Beckendorf let out a low whistle. "I mean... if this works, I might be able to forge the gods themselves into a weapon. What could go wrong?"
Harry grinned. "Exactly! Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?"
Before Beckendorf could point out all the things that could, in fact, go wrong, Harry turned to the one source of magic they could count on right now—Jim. The golden staff, which had been floating nearby, suddenly snapped to attention like a kid hearing the ice cream truck music.
"Jim," Harry said, trying to keep a straight face. "I need you to do your thing."
Jim grinned. "Ah, yes! The thing that I do best! No one delivers like me, Lokison. You know, in the great tradition of legendary heroes, I am the ultimate sidekick—nay, companion! I'm like the Robin to your Batman, but with more flash and less brooding!" The staff swayed in exaggerated motions as if Jim were basking in his own glory. "Let's see... Jean Grey, the fiery powerhouse of the cosmos, eh? I'll just zoom on over there, scoop her up, and—hey! Maybe give her a tour of the skies while we're at it. You know, show her the world from a bird's-eye view, maybe grab a latte, swing by a volcano or two for some ambiance..."
Harry blinked at Jim, trying to focus through the rapid-fire speech. "Uh, yeah, sure. Just—please don't stop for a latte. We're working on something important here. No volcanoes. No lattes. Got it?"
Jim waved his staff dismissively. "Pfft. No volcanoes. No lattes. Gotcha. But a VIP treatment is definitely on the table."
Before Harry could explain that Jim's idea of VIP treatment might involve some seriously questionable decisions, Jim zipped off with a sound that was part crackling lightning, part overenthusiastic kazoo solo.
Beckendorf, who had been silently processing the idea of Phoenix-level fire, finally shook his head with a grin. "You sure that staff doesn't get you into more trouble than it's worth?"
"Hey, trouble is my middle name," Harry said, flashing a grin. "And if this works, we'll have weapons that could end the war before it even begins."
Beckendorf was now starting to look really intrigued. "Alright, alright. I'm in. But if I end up creating a new type of metal that's too powerful to control, I'm blaming you."
Harry clapped him on the back. "Deal. But don't worry, Beck, we're gonna make something legendary."
A few moments later, a gust of air whooshed through the forge, and Jim floated back into view, with Jean Grey trailing behind him. She looked like someone who had just been to the gym... if the gym were the entire universe. Her aura burned with controlled power, and she didn't need to say a word for everyone to know that she could probably obliterate the entire forge with a single flick of her finger.
Jean flashed Harry a small, knowing smile. "Ready to set this forge on fire?"
Harry grinned, heart pounding with excitement. "You bet I am."
Beckendorf was speechless. He just stared at Jean, eyes wide, mouth open like a fish. Jean's fiery aura flared to life, turning the air in the forge thick with heat. The temperature soared like someone had just flipped a switch to inferno mode. Beckendorf scrambled back, trying not to get too close to the wave of heat.
"Okay," he muttered, wiping his brow. "I'll admit it. That is way more fire than I'm used to dealing with. I thought I was good with heat, but this is... next-level."
Harry leaned in, arms crossed, clearly loving the show. "Told you. This is fire with a purpose."
With a single snap of Jean's fingers, the flame erupted in a controlled vortex of cosmic power, wrapping itself around the bones on the forge, swirling with the intensity of a thousand suns. The smelting process began in an instant, and the bones started to melt, transmuting into something far more powerful than ordinary metal.
Beckendorf just watched, awe in his eyes. "This is insane. It's like watching creation in real time."
Jean's voice came out low and steady, but the confidence was clear. "This is what the Phoenix does. It's not just destruction—it's about making something new."
Harry's grin grew even wider. "And that something new is going to be legendary."
Beckendorf let out a long, appreciative whistle. "Yeah, I think you were right about that. We're about to make history, aren't we?"
Harry chuckled. "Oh, yeah. But first? Let's get this metal forged."
—
The forge was hotter than the inside of a dragon's mouth after taco night.
Jean Grey—currently glowing like a human-shaped solar flare—was keeping the heat steady with all the effortless control of someone who regularly played cosmic tug-of-war with the forces of destruction. The air around her shimmered with Phoenix fire, making everything feel slightly unreal, like a dream where you weren't sure if you were flying or just really, really bad at gravity.
Beckendorf, meanwhile, was all business. The guy had the kind of focus usually reserved for bomb defusal experts and people trying to cut a cake perfectly evenly at birthday parties. He measured out the Celestial Bronze powder with precision, his hands moving like a sculptor crafting a masterpiece. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but he didn't even seem to notice. He was in the zone.
Harry, on the other hand, was bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting for a rollercoaster. He was trying to act casual, but he wasn't fooling anyone. This was magic and metal and fire all mixing together in one giant cauldron of awesomeness. How could he not be excited?
And then, of course, there was Jim.
"PEOPLE OF THE FORGE!" the staff announced dramatically, spinning in midair like a particularly excitable baton twirler. "BEHOLD! THE GREATEST METALWORKING EVENT IN THE HISTORY OF EVER! FEATURING YOURS TRULY—THE MOST DASHING, CHARISMATIC, AND DEVILISHLY HANDSOME MAGICAL RELIC OF ALL TIME! OH, AND ALSO THESE GUYS."
Jean exhaled through her nose, clearly summoning every ounce of patience in her cosmic-powered body. "Harry," she said, not looking away from the flames, "your stick is talking again."
Harry sighed. "Jim. Tone it down."
"I REFUSE."
"You are literally hovering over molten metal," Harry pointed out. "You don't even have hands. What are you trying to do?"
"I AM PROVIDING MORAL SUPPORT. AND DRAMATIC COMMENTARY. AND—OHHH, DO WE HAVE A SOUNDTRACK? WE NEED A SOUNDTRACK! SOME EPIC CHOIR MUSIC! MAYBE A BIT OF ELECTRIC GUITAR! NO, WAIT—BAGPIPES! REALLY LEAN INTO THE GRANDEUR."
Beckendorf muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm gonna melt that thing down into a doorknob."
Jim gasped. "HOW DARE YOU."
"Jim," Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "do you want to go sit in the time-out corner?"
Jim stopped spinning. "You wouldn't dare."
Harry pointed to the far corner of the forge.
Jim made an offended noise. "I AM AN ANCIENT AND POWERFUL RELIC OF UNTOLD MYSTERIES! I HAVE SEEN THE RISE AND FALL OF EMPIRES! I HAVE—"
"Corner. Now."
With an exaggerated huff, Jim twirled dramatically through the air and settled himself in the corner, facing the wall. "This is an outrage," he grumbled. "I'm going to lodge a formal complaint with the universe."
"Noted," Harry said, turning back to the forge. "Now, let's actually make this thing."
Jean smirked but didn't comment. She just extended her hands, her flames swirling in controlled ribbons around the cauldron. The bones Beckendorf had added were already breaking down, their essence seeping into the metal like dye in water. The Celestial Bronze powder shimmered as it melted, fusing with the bone coal in a way that was almost hypnotic.
"This should work," Beckendorf murmured, eyes locked on the bubbling mixture. "Phoenix fire will fuse it all together, but we need to time it perfectly."
Jean arched a brow. "No pressure, huh?"
Beckendorf grinned. "You're Jean Grey. You can literally set the universe on fire. I think you can handle some fancy metalwork."
Jean let out a short laugh. "Alright, big guy. Let's do this."
The temperature spiked as Jean's flames intensified, the Phoenix fire wrapping around the molten metal like a living thing. The cauldron vibrated with energy, the forge itself almost humming with power. Beckendorf worked quickly, guiding the flow of the metal into the ingot mold with expert hands.
Harry watched, his heart pounding. This was it. This was actually happening.
Jim, despite being in the designated sulking zone, peeked over his shoulder. "OH, THAT LOOKS PRETTY COOL."
Harry shot him a look.
"WHAT? I'M JUST SAYING. ALSO, IF IT EXPLODES, I WANT IT NOTED THAT I TOTALLY CALLED IT."
Beckendorf rolled his eyes. "It's not going to explode."
There was a beat of silence.
"…Probably," he added.
Jean made a face. "Wow. Very reassuring."
The first ingot solidified with a final pulse of golden light, cooling into something that looked almost too perfect to be real. It gleamed in the forge's glow, hints of Phoenix fire still flickering across its surface like tiny embers.
Beckendorf let out a slow breath. "Damn."
Harry grinned. "Yeah. That's about right."
Jim, despite himself, floated a little closer. "SOOOO… CAN I COME OUT OF TIME-OUT NOW?"
Harry sighed. "Fine. But if you start monologuing again, you're going in the forge."
Jim gasped. "YOU WOULDN'T."
Jean smirked. "Try him."
Jim wisely shut up.
For now.
—
The Metal That Should Not Be This Cool, But Totally Is
Beckendorf wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm, his muscles flexing in a way that would've made Aphrodite kids swoon (not that he cared). He grabbed a pair of tongs and lifted the still-glowing ingot from the mold, carefully setting it onto the worktable with a solid clunk. The metal pulsed, a fiery heartbeat running through it, like it had places to be and monsters to slay.
Jean stood across from him, arms crossed, radiating the effortless cool of someone who could tear a hole in reality if she really wanted to. She raised an eyebrow. "Well? Did we just create the Olympian version of a nuclear meltdown, or did we actually make something useful?"
Beckendorf didn't answer right away. Instead, he grabbed a second ingot—regular Celestial Bronze—and set it beside the new one for comparison. His brow furrowed as he took a step back, analyzing them like a sculptor deciding which block of marble would least likely try to murder him.
The difference? Oh, yeah. It was obvious.
Celestial Bronze was impressive, sure. It had that classic golden glow, humming with divine power. Standard monster-killing, god-tier metal. Reliable. Durable. Shiny.
The new ingot? It made Celestial Bronze look like it had just lost a wrestling match with Hephaestus's forge.
It didn't just glow—it shimmered, shifting between molten gold, deep red, and flickering orange, like it couldn't decide what color it wanted to be. The Phoenix flame infused within it wasn't just decoration; it was alive, woven into the structure like a heartbeat. The metal pulsed faintly, as if waiting for someone to actually do something interesting with it.
Beckendorf let out a low whistle. "Damn."
Jean smirked. "That a good damn or a we-just-made-a-bomb damn?"
Beckendorf tilted his head. "Jury's still out."
From the corner, Jim—who had been sulking (translation: dramatically pouting like a Shakespearean actor who'd been denied their monologue)—suddenly zipped over in his staff form, hovering above the table like an over-caffeinated hummingbird.
"Oooooh," Jim cooed, spinning in midair. "Would you look at that! That is some top-tier, grade-A, five-star craftsmanship! A true work of art! A masterpiece! A—"
"Jim," Beckendorf interrupted, still focused on the metal. "Shut up."
Jim gasped, scandalized. "Rude! So rude! I bring style and flair to this operation, and this is how you treat me?"
Jean rolled her eyes. "Welcome to my life."
Beckendorf ignored them both, his brain already running through a checklist of metalworking properties. First, the weight. He tapped the Celestial Bronze ingot with his fingers—smooth, solid, predictable. Then he touched the new ingot.
The moment his fingers brushed it, the metal reacted. A tiny, almost imperceptible tremor ran through it, like it was acknowledging him.
Beckendorf narrowed his eyes. "That's not normal."
Jean leaned in. "Define normal in a world where Harry's staff talks more than he does."
Jim flipped dramatically. "Excuse you, I provide essential commentary!"
Beckendorf ignored him, running his thumb along the edge of the ingot. It was smoother than Celestial Bronze but harder. Denser. More compact. And—this was the weird part—it felt aware. Not in a possessed sword that wants to drink your soul way (thank the gods), but in a finely tuned weapon that just knows how to be wielded kind of way.
"This stuff is stronger," Beckendorf said finally, stepping back. "Heavier. More durable. But also… reactive."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
Beckendorf's lips curled into a grin. "Meaning this metal doesn't just channel magic like Celestial Bronze. It stores it. Holds onto it. Maybe even amplifies it."
Jean let out a low whistle. "So we didn't just make a super metal. We made a freaking battery."
"A magical battery," Beckendorf confirmed. "Weapons forged from this won't just be strong. They'll be alive."
Jim practically exploded with excitement. "ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU JUST MADE—" he gasped dramatically "—SENTIENT METAL?! Because that is simultaneously the coolest and most terrifying thing I have ever heard, and I love it."
Beckendorf snorted. "Not sentient. Just… responsive. It's like it wants to be used."
Jean tapped her fingers against the table, studying the ingot with the expression of someone already calculating worst-case scenarios. "And if it absorbs too much energy?"
Beckendorf hesitated. He didn't like answering questions when he didn't have all the data, but… yeah. That was a possibility.
"Dunno yet," he admitted. "Could be stable. Could be volatile. We'll have to test it."
Jim gasped again, floating closer. "Ooooh, dibs on testing it! I volunteer as tribute!"
"You're already a magical weapon," Jean pointed out. "What would testing it even do?"
Jim spun in place. "Oh, I dunno, maybe turn me into a SUPER Jim! Maybe give me laser vision! Maybe make me a hundred feet tall so I can finally dunk on Zeus! The possibilities are endless!"
Beckendorf pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're not testing it on you."
Jim crossed his (metaphorical) arms. "Cowards."
Jean smirked. "So, what's the next step, genius?"
Beckendorf's grin turned downright wicked. "Next step? We forge something with it. And we see just how strong this metal really is."
Jim did a backflip in midair. "Oh-ho-HO! Now we're talking! It's time to make something EPIC!"
Beckendorf nodded, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. "Yeah," he said. "Let's see what this stuff can do."
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s
Thank you for your support!