The clattering of iron rang with a crash that came from the workshop. Then, another—louder—one resounded from outside. Rose hurried out with only her sweater wear.

As soon as she opened the door, which smacked into the side of the house, sand splashed her face and the air sent her hair flying.

She squinted emerald eyes and looked out into a dusty world that had flipped within a matter of minutes. In the distance, she could see a vortex spinning through the slums, ripping everything up—metal, wood, glass, brick, and full blown squared houses were flying in the air along with a swirling mass of sand that dusted the place.

'A Sandstorm!'

It was coming, and it was massive. She forced the door close, prying the metallic and wooden thing forcefully back in place and locking it. There was blood on her hands at that point and she hunkered back into the workshop.

The world shook around her but she calmed herself. She could ignore a storm, it wasn't as if she could outrun it if she tried nor as if she could hide from it, she could only hope it didn't uproot the shack. Rose sat upon the chair, watching the walls shake and thought to herself, 'A better time than any.'

She clapped her hands together and pulled them apart, dragging a sword into her grip. It had yet to be pulled and she merely held it, yet. . .

Simply holding the sheathed weapon increased her senses. She could hear the clanks of the outside world, the hurling winds, screams, and with a narrow of her eyes, she could see even more details than her own eyes picked up. It was as if her will had latched onto the mana floating in the world and extended through it.

She slowly unsheathed the sword, watching a spark of fire come out before disappearing into a silver blade that burned orange. The sensation of heat tingled against her skin. Like a burning passion that wanted to cleanse this world. She might've sweated if she could.

'So this is the shape of my soul. . .' She held the weapon up, ignoring the racking of the shack, ignoring all other sensations but the sword.

At that moment, it was as if she could understand and feel it. She felt like it was a living, breathing, being that had its own wishes and will. Above all else, as her core hummed, and they connected with each other, she heard the whispers of its name.

. That was her Gear. A weapon that should not exist within an Homunculus. A sword that would melt the order of this world.

She released her grip and it disappeared in a blaze of orange.

'Hmm?' Without her notice, the world had suddenly gotten very quiet, too quiet. 'The sandstorm must be over.'

With that thought, she checked the details of the information she had gained from Mare. 'Mhmm,' She nodded. She would be ready. It was time to go learn how to properly swing her sword.

Yet, as she stepped outside, the world appeared bleaker than normal.

Not a lot of damage had been done but there was definitely shacks and small houses that had been uprooted and thrown around, and there was metal and wood littering the streets along with the mass of slummers that also came out to a coughing fit—because almost everything was covered in sand.

"Thank god," She heard the murmurs, "It was only a small one this time."

That was small? The slummers seemed ridiculous. Yet, she couldn't ponder that for long.

'Great,' She thought as she looked left.

The blue dune-buggy, her dune-buggy, was on its back. Rose sighed to herself and walked to its rolled-over-turtle-like figure and placed her hands under it. Regularly, she was twice stronger than a human of her stature and build but even that wouldn't be enough to lift this. . .unless she used Mana Channeling.

Her core pulsed, there was a noticeably louder hum in her mind. Mana flushed through her, entering her veins, her circuits, and enveloping her brain as it boosted everything.

The rolled-over car was soon lifted by her hands with a huff and she heaved it back into a right-way condition as it crashed onto the ground.

This was the power of mana, something mages could control and humans could use with the right equipment. However, although she didn't know why, it was innate. Yet as great as that sounded, her charge had fallen right down to 50% through that expenditure. She now had a bit less than 8 days with the addition of the two cores.

There was still a strong sense of mana flowing through her. It wouldn't calm down for a while.

Sighing, she returned back into the shack and looked for new clothing to wear. After leaving her sweater aside, she settled on another pair of black leggings, sneakers of the same color, and a tighter hoodie of green that fit snugly upon her body. When all of that was done, she hopped into the dune-buggy, noticed it was at 50% charge with a grimace, and drove off.