What had he just done? Wrathel was staring at the window. His Element flared along his hands with the deep purple smoke. The kid didn't scream on his way down, or perhaps he didn't want to hear it. The door unlocked behind him. "My lord?" his general asked, with a usual hint of eagerness.

"Fetch someone to clean this up general," Wrathel found himself saying without even breaking his gaze from the shattered window.

The general didn't move from where he stood. "I must ask, my lord, but what of the machine?"

Wrathel sneered, his mind coming back to the reality of things. "The machine was a failure."

"But why? Wasn't the Spirit Element supposed to power it?"

Wrathel looked back at his notes. He was beginning to think clearer now. Rage wasn't clouding him as much. He slammed his hands onto the table and stared at the books and notes. The books told of the powerful machine that could once harness the power of the Planes because the Spirit Element triggered something unique. The Emperor wasn't exactly sure what the connection was between the two, but the poor kid had confirmed his suspicions. The Spirit Element had caused something in the machine. Perhaps his calculations were wrong.

"I'll sort it out," he stated as he ran his hand through his hair, his Element still swaying along his skin. The purple aura was powerful and sometimes it took Wrathel a while to calm it down.

"I'll get the engineers and scientists too, if you'd like. Perhaps they can shed light onto the malfunctions that occurred."

The general walked further in the room to inspect the machine. It looked destroyed now. Wrathel turned to look at it as well.

"Perhaps it needed both of them?" the general asked.

Wrathel shook his head. "The other boy didn't have an Element."

"Shame. Did you have to throw him out the window? It was a rather nice one."

Wrathel looked at the general with displeased look. "One less body to clean up. He was trying to run."

"You could've just taken his Soul."

Wrathel shrugged. He hadn't been so unruly before. Sure, he may have killed a few people here and there, but never kids. What was this research doing to him? He couldn't be sure if it was changing how he felt about things, or perhaps as his Element grew stronger, he became more monstrous. "A Spirit Elementalist who knows of my Element could someday be a threat. I'd rather not take that chance."

The general then nodded and turned to the dead body of the boy. "I'll get the morticians to come take this then. Don't suppose you could save me the trip and throw him out the window too?"

Wrathel didn't acknowledge the general's remark. So the general chuckled to himself and left the room whistling. Wrathel listened to the whistling echo through the hall and in the room. Its unpleasant sound caused him to cringe.

"You couldn't have just been stronger, could you?" the Emperor spoke out loud. He turned and faced the body. "You had to fail me. Do you not realize what I could have done with that power?"

Wrathel was tempted to kick the body, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. There was something about ripping a soul out of someone that seemed to preserve the body. He began to wonder if the body had any Element left in it.

Then, ideas rushed through his mind. Wrathel turned to the machinery and grabbed one of his tools. He began to reconnect broken pieces and replace bolts. He didn't need to rebuild the whole thing. Only the platform was needed. The technology that it used could draw power from Elements. Specifically, he had designed it based on the old schematics to only draw Spirit Elemental power. It sort of confused him how the technology could identify Elements. Even for ancient blueprints, they were ahead of their time. He had gotten them from the desert to the northeast and knew it had some connection to the Elementalists there.

Hours had passed and Wrathel didn't realize it until he heard a knock at the open door. He turned, sweaty and exhausted. It was obvious he hadn't slept with the bags under his eyes.

"My lord," the general mumbled in concern. Wrathel looked to the window. Day had broken already. "You haven't left this room yet?"

Wrathel rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I suppose not," he said, his voice dry and quiet.

"Well I brought the morticians sir. They couldn't come till morning. I sent word, hoping you didn't wait for them."

The Emperor began to try to think of what had happened over the night. He vaguely remembered someone talking to him, but he merely acknowledged them to make them go away.

"They can take the body of the kid now-"

"Wait!" Wrathel shouted. He turned and glared at the two morticians about to pick up the boy. "I am almost finished here."

"With what, my lord?"

A wicked smile spread across Wrathel's face. He reached over and connected two last pieces together. Finally the platform was rebuilt. "To test a theory."

"A theory that needs the dead body of a boy?"

"Not just any boy," Wrathel spat back at his general. "A Spirit Elementalist!"

Wrathel turned back to the machine. His tweaks had caused it to look a bit different than it had the previous night, but only due to the fact that he changed how it drew Elements. His theory was confirmed as he saw a thin line of green aura begin to pull out of the body and feed into the platform. Only powerful enough Elementalist would be able to see such a feat. The morticians stood confused at what the Emperor and the general were watching. The platform made a few noises but managed to power on at a steady but powerful status.

"There! That's it!" Wrathel exclaimed.

"What's this mean?" the general questioned.

Wrathel didn't stop smiling as he stood and turned to his faithful general. "It means we're going to need a bigger machine."