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Chapter 140: Scientist Zayn~
A glowing, janky, semi-translucent chair.
It wasn’t even that ugly. It just... didn’t last.
He conjured one now, willed the soul energy into shape with that now-familiar golden hue, and watched it flicker into existence.
Four legs, backrest, even a fancy little swoop on the seat just for style.
"Not bad," he murmured.
Then he tossed it across the room.
The chair sailed maybe two feet before it fizzled like a wet sparkler and vanished in the air.
He exhaled sharply. "Right. The core."
That was the issue.
Soul constructs — unlike simple soul energy attacks — needed a continuous stream of energy to stay solid.
And for anyone trying to use soul energy, they acted like a glorified battery. The moment the link between them and the object was severed — poof.
Gone.
Sure, he could place a tiny core of energy inside the construct to keep it going, but that took way too long to be viable in combat.
By the time he finished the delicate tuning, he’d be dead. Or stabbed. Or both.
But the Hero of Power?
He didn’t need any of that.
He just conjured them and threw them. Instant. Efficient. No fading mid-air like a cheap illusion spell.
There had to be a trick.
Zayn tapped his chin thoughtfully — still beardless, damn it — and narrowed his eyes.
If maintaining a single core was too slow... what if he cheated?
He reached out again with his soul energy.
This time, instead of shaping a full object and then trying to anchor it with one core, he started with the strings.
The same golden soul strings he’d used before in his fights — the ones that had pulled enemies, deflected blades, and saddled monsters.
They were thin, flexible... and more importantly?
Each one could channel energy independently.
Zayn began to weave.
Not like some artisan with a loom — more like a kid learning to braid ropes for the first time.
It was messy, uneven, but deliberate.
Every single string he conjured connected to the next one. Instead of forming a solid shape first, he outlined it with strings. A web. A net of channels.
Then, with a grunt of concentration, he tightened them.
The shape of a box emerged. Crude. Wobbly. But glowing.
He let it go.
The box clunked softly onto the wooden floor and... didn’t vanish.
It stayed.
Zayn stared.
"Oh. Oh."
He scrambled to his feet, rushed over, and poked the glowing box like it might bite him. Still warm. Still glowing.
It was slow. Way too slow to pull off mid-battle.
But every single soul string was a core of its own, feeding the structure, keeping it alive.
And because they were interconnected, if one thread stopped flowing, the others picked up the slack.
It was like...
A decentralized system.
Each part supported the whole.
Zayn dropped back onto the bed with a tired grin.
"Take that, Ragnar."
He was at least smart too.
He rested his head back against the wall, letting his soul energy simmer down.
His body ached from the day’s fight. His mind was foggy. But the progress was undeniable and slowly his eyes drooped, he slept off.
And then...
There was a knock at the door.
He ignored it, he was probably dreaming.
The knock came again, sharper than before.
Zayn blinked his eyes open, halfway between sleep and that weird soul dream where he kept summoning a sword made of jelly.
Another nightmare?
He pushed himself off the bed, rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming — don’t go stabbing the door."
He opened it to find Seren standing there.
Well — standing-ish. She was sort of squished against the frame, a pillow clutched tightly to her chest.
Her oversized nightshirt had one sleeve falling off the shoulder, and her hair was a tangled mess that looked vaguely like a battlefield.
Zayn raised an eyebrow.
"...You alright?"
Seren looked away, her voice quieter than usual. "I couldn’t sleep."
Zayn tilted his head, then stepped aside with a sigh. "Come in."
She slipped past him without saying anything else and stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
Zayn closed the door behind her, suppressing a yawn.
He returned to the bed and sat down, motioning with a lazy hand. "Alright. Spill. What’s up?"
Seren hesitated, then plopped onto the bed beside him like a sulky cat. "It’s hard. Sleeping in a room with strangers."
"...They’re not strangers. You know them."
"They snore like monsters and talk in their sleep!" she snapped.
Zayn chuckled. "That’s fair. Bran probably sounds like he’s choking on a tree."
"I checked to see if he was dying."
Zayn raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, okay. I get it."
A moment passed in silence.
"...So," she said slowly, voice barely a mutter. "Can I sleep here?"
Zayn leaned back, propping himself on his elbows, then looked at her for a beat. "Yeah. Sure."
Seren didn’t say thank you. Instead, she hmphed, stood up with dramatic flair, and yanked the blanket up like she was declaring war.
She dropped her pillow beside his and climbed onto the bed, immediately dragging every available inch of covers toward her side.
Zayn’s legs got exposed to the air almost instantly.
"Seriously?" he muttered, yanking the edge back toward himself.
Her foot kicked at his under the blanket. "My blanket."
"You’re a guest!"
"I’m small. I get cold easier."
"I fought a dinosaur today, I deserve at least one-third!"
They glared at each other across the pillow wall for a second before Zayn rolled his eyes and let go.
"Fine. Freeze then."
"I will," Seren said proudly, burrito-wrapping herself until only her eyes and a bit of hair peeked out. "And I’ll sleep better than all of you."
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn muttered, flopping onto his side with a grunt. "If you spit acid in your sleep, I’m drop-kicking you out the window."
"Hmm!" she snapped. "I don’t do that while I sleep, you probably snore like an idiot!"
He snorted.
