Word of the Cube spread through camp faster than John expected. Within minutes, Jibril, Azelis, and Yuna had all gathered on the Forging Island, drawn by Chuthulos's excited chatter about first attempts and textures nobody had names for yet.
The island itself looked different with all of them standing on it together, black metal rings still turning slowly overhead, runework drifting lazy patterns of violet light across the ground like reflections off water that didn't exist.
"So it's not tied to you specifically?" Jibril asked, turning the small cube over in her own hands without any resistance from it at all.
"That's the strange part," John said. "Chuthulos, walk them through it properly. You explained it better than I did the first time."
Chuthulos puffed up with the particular pride of someone who'd been waiting all morning for exactly this cue. His small hands folded together, eyes glimmering with tiny reflected stars.
