Chapitre 2: Meet The Crew
A few moments passed, during which Mark nearly felt his breath clog his lungs as the gears in his mind kept spinning over and over, trying to come up with some sort of plan. Needless to say, he knew that he'd have to wait for a while, at least until they came into town and stuff started going south.
"I should return to my post. Mark, make sure to not cause trouble around Belobog, understood?"
Mark simply nodded towards Gepard, not even thinking about causing trouble... yet.
Serval waved her brother goodbye, then turned back to face Mark once more.
"Now, since we're alone here, I guess we can finally talk about what the future holds. If you wish, you can stay over for a while in the spare room you woke up in."
Mark glanced at her, his thoughtful gaze on display as he thought about it. With a small sigh, he bowed his head slightly.
"That would be truly helpful. Thank you, lady Serval."
She chuckled in response, motioning for him to stand straight.
"No need to be so formal, Mark; you're making me feel old."
She gave him a tiny smile, one that held more warmth in it than he had expected.
"Just take your time, and perhaps your memories will return at some point. No need to rush, alright? Make yourself at home."
He gave her a tiny smile back, his expression softening as his mind cleared up, leaving nothing but the present moment there.
"I will. Thank you."
Time went on in an uneventful manner, and Mark found himself enjoying the quiet life. He lent a hand wherever he could to Serval, making himself of use around the workshop.
"I might not be the smartest guy, but I sure am willing to learn some new stuff. It's pretty cool to fix these things, even if they're fairly simple in terms of technology compared to most of the stuff I'm used to from back home. But then again, they're merely household items, nothing as complex as the robots that lurk around and stuff."
As the dim outside light made its way in through the window, he took a seat near Serval, watching her work. Her hands moved with a dexterity that impressed him, leaving no shadow of a doubt that, indeed, she is a researcher and experimented engineer to her core. Bits of her past came to him, as well as flickering images of what would soon be. The crew coming into town, Cocolia being aflicted by the Stellaron's influence, and yet parts of the story remained a secret to be unveiled.
"You sure love watching me work," said Serval, her voice calm as she focused on the machine in her hands, barely glancing his way.
Mark smiled a bit, letting out a soft sigh.
"Well, perhaps I just like watching people do the things they like, or just work on whatever, as long as they enjoy it. There's not really much to me staring, truthfully."
She shook her head slightly, letting out a low grunt as something didn't work the way she expected it to.
"Well, as much as I love it, it sure gets frustrating whenever things tend to have other issues that aren't visible at first glance."
He nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. Even he could recall the times he had to search on the internet for whatever issues his computer had, only to be met with hundreds of possibilities.
"Yeah... can't argue with that..."
Brief was the silence that settled, and yet it felt comfortable, like a warm blanket wrapped around a freezing Mark. He simply followed her movements until she wiped her hands clean using a piece of cloth.
"I'm heading out to get something I need. Make sure to not run off into places you're unfamiliar with, alright?"
Mark chuckled, waving a dismissive hand at her as he just crossed his legs on his chair.
"No worries; in the worst-case scenario, I might hurt myself trying to make a makeshift weapon or something in here; no worries about me."
She raised a brow, staring at him with a tinge of a dumbfounded expression.
"Mark... what are you thinking?"
He shrugged, feigning innocence.
"Nothing; you know me, just a guy. No worries, just go outside and have fun as you go fetch what you need."
He walked over to the door, holding it open for her, motioning with his free hand towards the outside world.
"Come on, I'm a big guy; I can handle myself. Plus, a tiny cut never hurt anybody too much. I'll be fine."
She gave a loud sigh, relenting beneath his chatter that never seemed to stop unless she just took his word.
"Fine, but if you break anything, I'll get mad, so make sure to not ruin anything while I'm out."
With that, she went outside, and Mark closed the door. He took a deep breath, then turned towards the equipment and the various pieces that were scattered around the workshop.
"Let me see... a steam-punk-styled sword seems like a good choice, yet I don't really know how to use a sword the proper way. Heck, I'm still making one, but I also need something easier to use... let me see..."
His eyes scanned around some more, focusing on every bit of scrap and metal until his eyes fell on a long metal pipe, which was around his height. With a satisfied grin, he grabbed it and checked it a little, giving it a twirl. He wasn't the definition of strength, even if his stamina was more than decent, but that metal pipe was going to do one fine whacking job. Satisfied, he put it aside, then began working on the sword of his—or at least something reminiscent of one with a spin on the aesthetic.
It was his first ever time using a welding machine, and he was having a blast. Sparks flew and the blinding light engulfed the workshop, and yet he kept working relentlessly. The mask was enough to protect his eyesight, yet his sweat rolled down his forehead like beads.
Slowly but surely, his creation came to life. From a rectangular chunk of steel that was thin enough to be sharpened, he cut away the shape of a blade with a long bladeless side on the bottom to weld it to the rest of the handle. With a larger cog, he made the guard right atop the handle, which was in turn made out of a piece of a thinner pipe. In the end, he welded everything together as well as he could, making sure to exaggerate how well put together the pieces were, welding perhaps a lot more than needed.
In the end, he made sure to try and sharpen the blade as much as possible, giving it the pointed tip needed.
"Well, what should I use for the handle? The metal will surely slip out of my hands, so I need something to improve my grip. Rubber? Perhaps it would work. Hmm... what else could I use? I have no idea."
His eyes roamed over the nearly-finished sword, the traces of rust visible along the blade, with the edges being a smooth silver gray with traces of scratches. As he held it up with both hands, he realized just how long he had made the blade. The blade was around a meter and a half, being decent in terms of weight, yet he didn't care. Heavy or not, it was his first sword, made by his own hand. He liked it.
"Now to find some materials for the handle."
As his eyes darted to the side, the front door swung open, revealing Serval, followed by the three people he was waiting for: Stelle, March 7th, and Dan Heng.
"The heater you saw is just a standard Geomarrow radia..."
Serval's voice died out as all eyes fell on Mark, who was still holding his sword up in the air. Silence fell around them for a moment, and Mark tried to brush it off with a deep sigh.
"Yeah... just a guy doing random guy stuff. Moving on, everyone, moving on."
March looked over at the sword, accompanied by Stelle. Dan Heng didn't seem to be impressed by it—just the type of reaction Mark was expecting. Meanwhile, Serval stepped closer and looked the sword over.
"It could use some more work, but you sure have a knack for weird stuff. The last thing I was expecting you to do was make an actual sword. I didn't take you for the type to improvise weapons out of scrap."
Mark shrugged, simply placing the weapon on the wooden workspace.
"Meh, just a tiny something, but yeah, I have tendencies. Anyway, got some rubber or something I could wrap the handle in to make sure it won't slip out of my hand?"
For a moment, they both forgot about the members of the Astral Express and went on to finish. Serval found a circular piece of rubber, wrapped it around the handle, and used something akin to a blowtorch to quickly shrink it and fit it nicely. Mark grabbed it, nodded, then gave the sword a healthy swing, stopping just before touching the ground.
"Great. Thanks, Serval. Now," said Mark as he glanced over to the crew, "we should focus on our guests here."
He motioned to the others, who were still watching intently, as if taking in the slightly unusual sight.
"Ah, yes, my apologies. I invited you here, and yet I got carried away. Take a look around. This is where the magic happens."
"Thank you for the invitation," replied Dan Heng, his usual voice devoid of excitement. He was calm and composed, far more than Mark had seen in the game. On the same note, some details did vary from what he knew. Their heights were different, and he barely noticed it. Dan Heng was slightly shorter than him, but not by much. Meanwhile, Serval was a head shorter, with March being even tinier than that. Stelle, on the other hand, reached comfortably to his chin.
"Damn, here I am just realizing that, in fact, there are differences between the supposed 'real life' and the game that I know. No limitations here; I better keep that in mind."
As March and Stelle glanced around the shop, talking with Serval, Mark went ahead and started a conversation with Dan Heng.
"Heh, seems like you're not from around this place, am I right?"
He knew very well what he wanted to learn, and yet he played it coy, asking questions that didn't reveal much about his knowledge, shrouding it in a coat of sharp senses and attention to details.
"Yes, you are right about that."
Silence lingered for a moment, yet no one said more.
"Cunning guy, this Dan Heng. He doesn't trust me; it's clear. Smart choice, though."
Mark took a moment to rearrange his thoughts, then spoke in a lower tone, nearly lowering it to a whisper.
"Look, I know you come from beyond the stars, all of you. Members of the Astral Express, right? I don't want to make a fuss about it, but I might be able to lend a hand in all of this. For now, just go about your day, alright? I'll do my best to help if something arises."
Dan Heng shot him a sidelong glance, studying him silently with crossed arms and a cold, calculated approach. He mulled it over for a few moments, then gave Mark a brief nod, answering just as quietly.
"Fine, just don't expect me to trust you out of the blue."
"I didn't even expect it. You're not that much of a fool to trust this random guy without a solid reason. But for now, take my word as it is: I wish to help."
Having said that, they merely watched the others walk around the workshop, then stood and sighed in sync as March and Stelle fiddled with something Serval had given them to work on.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Meritas
Meritas Here I am, with a new chapter. Somehow made time to write this one the very next day. Yeah, don't get used to it. I write whenever I have time, but from now it'll suck since I have to watch the entire game on youtube since I need details and all those things. Don't expect me to be to be so quick the next time (or do, who knows?). So yeah, enjoy, please leave a review, some comments (since any interaction shows me that people care enough to read this) and have fun. Peace out and Deus vult, everyone.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone