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So much of this forging process felt entirely foreign to anything he'd ever done before. The Candle was so incredibly powerful that previous methodologies were rendered obsolete. Entire steps could be skipped as a matter of course.

As a matter of frustration, even. The Candle would become annoyed with him whenever he tried to make it do something too simple.

When the tool at your fingertips could actually see the vision in your head, many new things became possible.

A constant push and pull. A push too light, and the Candle would grow irritated. A push to heavy, and the Candle would not be fully synchronized with his vision.

But he was finding it. That precise balance. An exact wavelength.

And the world was opening up before him.

So many ideas were flooding in, old and new alike. Plans he'd made decades ago were suddenly coming alive in his mind with new vigor. Things he'd stalled on. Thought impossible.

Machinery was no longer an obstacle. The Candle had rebuffed him previous when trying to work on his powered armor, but no longer. Multiple advances had been made with that already, though most of said advances were still in his head, queued up and waiting.

At the moment, however, he supposed he needed to take a break. Sleeping was still out of the question, but a nice sit down and maybe a bit of meditation wouldn't hurt. Oh, and perhaps a meal. When was the last time he'd eaten? He genuinely couldn't recall.

He'd crafted a reclining chair for himself at some point, days ago. He'd been meaning to try it out, so now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

He sat.

Ah.

Not bad.

The great orb in the middle of the room was glowing and vibrating. Expressing displeasure with him again, of course.

"Shut up," he said, not even opening his eyes. "You know I'm not actually stopping."

A minor shock wave washed over the room, rattling the shelves.

"You need rest, too, you know. You're a bit overheated."

Another pulse.

"Yes, you are," said Abbas.

"Perhaps we could make something simple. A bite to eat, for instance?"

At that voice, Abbas' eyes actually did slide open, though not with surprise. His gaze turned lazily to his left, where a small figure was sitting on the ground, playing with a pile of tungsten connecting rods as if they were building blocks.