Crispin returned home with the weight of the day's violence. A residual awareness refused to let go, as though his body had learned something it could not unlearn. Every shadow felt edged. Every sound carried a memory of teeth and claws and the way Bethany's blood had soaked into the dirt before it flowed backward.
Regulus had reduced his mass for the walk back, shrinking into a charcoal-furred shape no larger than a heavy bobcat. He padded beside Crispin in silence, tail held low, the playful flick absent. He stayed close, no longer ranging ahead or leaping; he remained near enough that Crispin could feel his warmth through the air.
The moment they crossed the threshold of the smithy, Regulus collapsed out of the Shadowmane form.
Liquid silver unraveled mid-step, reforming as a dense sphere that hit the stone floor with a heavy thud. He flowed immediately toward the worktable, drawn to the scrolls and reagent sacks laid out in careful order. His surface vibrated with a jagged frequency that scraped against the bond like static.
Crispin felt it and stopped. "Regy?"
The silver sphere shuddered. "Bethany… almost died." The metallic voice vibrated through the room, thinner than before, brittle around the edges. "My fault."
Crispin crossed the space in three steps. "No," he said firmly. "It wasn't."
Regulus's mass slumped against the edge of the table, flattening as if gravity had increased around him. "She's ranged. We meant to protect her?"
"We are," Crispin agreed, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed beside the table. "And if it wasn't for your potion, she would have died. That matters. You saved her."
The core of Regulus pulsed a dark, bruised blue.
"Not the same," he insisted, his voice warping with strain. "Bethany is only one nice."
The words hit harder than Crispin expected. He swallowed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know," he mumbled. "I know."
Silence stretched. Regulus's surface sharpened into a jagged, multi-faceted texture. Silver edges caught the forge-light in harsh angles. "Won't be next time," he snapped. "Come."
Crispin blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Carry reagents," Regy commanded.
He hopped off the table and surged into a compact Shadowmane form. Charcoal fur bristled with frantic energy. He paced once, then twice; claws clicked against the floor.
Crispin hesitated a moment before gathering the reagents and the sealed scrolls from Silas. The weight settled into his arms.
In the main room, Elara's voice drifted from the hearth as she recounted the events of the amphitheater to Thorne in hushed, breathless detail. Thorne looked up as Crispin emerged; relief flashed across his soot-streaked face.
"Son," Thorne said, already moving. He pulled Crispin into a brief, heavy hug that smelled of iron and woodsmoke. "You're safe."
"I am," Crispin said. "Bethany, too."
Thorne exhaled slowly. "Good."
"And Regy?" Elara asked, her voice hovering between worry and newfound respect.
"He says we need to go out for a while," Crispin replied.
Thorne looked down at the small Shadowmane pacing near the door. "You keep him safe, little king."
Regulus gave a low, consenting vibration and bolted into the cooling indigo air. Crispin followed.
They didn't stop until the treeline swallowed the city's glow. Once hidden from view, Regulus surged back into his full Shadowmane form. The massive charcoal predator moved with silent urgency toward the moss-covered alcove where everything had begun.
Inside the cave, the atmosphere pressed in.
Regulus shed his fur, reverting to slime form. Nothing about him was calm. He slammed into a cluster of sun-crystals with brutal force. A hundred kilograms of brilliant stone shattered; fragments crashed to the floor in a thunderous cascade.
"Regulus," Crispin said sharply, hands raised. "Easy."
"No talk," Regy hissed. "Craft. Scrolls."
Crispin placed the apothecary's scrolls on the stone.
Regulus engulfed them instantly. Cognitive Resonance flared, shredding vellum and ink into raw, structured data. He launched himself onto the shattered crystal. Silver mass churned violently as assimilation began.
Minutes stretched.
Grinding, crackling sounds filled the cave as pressure forced mineral data and alchemical principles together. Crispin said nothing. He stayed seated on the cold stone and waited.
When the churning slowed, he spoke again. "We're a team."
Regulus did not answer. "Reagents," he snapped instead.
Crispin dumped the sacks onto the granite, sorting them into five piles without being asked. Regulus flowed over them like a tide, expanding and contracting with mechanical precision.
Light flooded Crispin's vision.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
The Liminal Storage has received an upgrade.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
The Liminal Storage has received an upgrade.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
The Liminal Storage has received an upgrade.
"Please," Crispin said quietly. "Talk to me."
Regulus ignored him. He plunged into the silica-rich pool. His surface shifted, smoothing into deep, translucent glass. Bottles began forming within his mass, extruding one after another. Aqua. Deep blue. Vivid red.
Each time one emerged, Regulus inspected it—and rejected it.
"No."
A whip of jelly flung a bottle against the cave wall. It shattered into sparks.
"No."
Another followed.
Crispin didn't intervene. He watched as failed solutions piled up around them. Some were intact, others broken; all discarded. One bottle emerged with a strange reddish hue, golden motes swirling inside. Regulus hesitated, then cast it aside as well.
"Close," he breathed. "Not enough."
After an hour, the frantic churning slowed. Regulus nudged a single bottle across the stone.
Crispin picked it up.
The glass was translucent. The liquid inside shimmered rose-gold, alive with quiet potential. A final message burned across his vision.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: REGISTRATION UPDATED]
Regulus: Liquid Quicksilver Emperor has devolved.
Evolution Successful. Regulus: Emperor Slime (Restorative).
Regulus looked up. He was no longer silver. His body glowed rose-gold and translucent, drinking in the cave's light.
They sat together in silence.
Crispin cradled the bottle in his hands. "You didn't have to do this."
"Yes," Regy said simply. "I did."
Crispin understood. This wasn't about power. It was about refusing to stand helpless. He cradled Regulus to his chest and stroked the gold-flecked jelly.
"Just know, you never have to be anything for me, except what you want to be. Quicksilver… restorative… Long or Shadowmane… I just want to keep you safe and happy."
Regulus wiggled his core against Crispin's chest with a heartfelt vibration.