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Everything had an effect, widening the channel, deepening it, making it lopsided or narrow at the point of contact, but widening out inside the material.

It was surely a tool that with the right skill, could be used to make amazing works of art.

Too bad that’s not what I need right now, Jeb thought, gripping the pen in both hands and snapping it in half.

Well, he tried.

The pen had a lot more durability than Jeb thought, not even bending as he used his full strength on the fancy paperweight.

Jeb set the pen down and glared at its whorling gold filigree.

“Okay, two can play at this game.”

Jeb spent the next couple minutes deconstructing the Beautiful Revenge, grabbing its tiny Myst siphon and one of the grain sized sections of Void Lens.

He affixed them to a rough shaft carved out of wood, then aimed his makeshift plasma cutter at the side of the pen.

The tiny void lens was only capable of cutting a tiny, pinprick-sized amount of the pen, but Jeb was patient, going over it again and again until he cut through the side.

Then he flipped the pen over and did the other side.

Finally, he popped the two halves of the gold and black construction apart.

“Damn,” Jeb muttered.

It felt like the first time he’d ever cracked open a PC and gazed upon the tangled mess of computer guts.

There was a lens at either end, and a couple more in the middle, along with what looked like a Myst engine barely bigger than a .5 lead for a mechanical pencil.

There was a strong siphon, somehow stronger than the one in the lantern, but smaller. The thing that really reminded him of a computer were the several plates of complicated pseudo motherboard, that Jeb assumed dictated the pen’s brush behavior and allowed it to restore material on command.

Let’s see if we can break it down like a computer, Jeb thought to himself, eyes straining to see all the little parts of the contraption in the fading light.

Power supply, Jeb thought, tracing the siphon output to the front and back lenses, along with one of the middle lenses.

Internal clock and behavior, he thought, tracing the Myst engine’s output to the motherboard-reminiscent plates…

That’s interesting, he thought, tracing the power supply to one of the internal lenses, which was receiving a constant supply of Myst. Through some feat of engineering, the Myst being fed into this lens was scattered, touching every part of the pen’s guts.

Jeb singled it out and inspected it.

Processed space creation lens (tiny)

These rare lenses are found in the wake of the Drifting Roil, and are highly sought after by wizards for their convenience.

These lenses are used to create extra space around their focal point, effectively shrinking their target, although the difference should be noted. They are most often put to use in handheld artifacts of great power, bypassing space limitations.

Hmm.

Jeb checked the other lenses, and organized them in his head. from business end, to business end, this is what he got.

This one shears matter away, this one stores it, this one moves them back and forth between the two extremes, this one shrinks the guts, this one puts matter back where it came from.

There was a control plate for each of the extremes , the storage lens, and the one that moved them back and forth, four in total.

The storage behavior plate had a constant flow of juice from the engine, likely because it acted as the RAM, holding on to the matter it had picked up even while the user wasn’t actively using the pen.

I wonder if it dumps its memory every now and then, or if it’s got tons of material waiting to explode out of here the moment I cross the wrong wires.

Either way, Jeb was very interested in both the ‘shrinking’ lens and the storage lens. Both of them warped space, and he had a feeling that would come in handy real soon.

Nearly an hour into his dissection of the Scrivener, Jess and Ron came back, covered in dirt and twigs. Jess’s eyes were puffy from crying…Ron’s too actually.

Jeb’s cynical mind catalogued the glow in their cheeks, the smudges of dirt on their knees…then dismissed them.

Didn’t matter.

“If you guys are back for good, bring Amanda and Brett back, they went looking for you. I figured out a way to get out of here.”

“Really!?” Ron asked, eyes widening. “That’s unbelievable!”

“It is unbelievable.” Jess said, looking Jeb over. “Care to tell us how?”

“Treasure sphincter.” Jeb said.

Rons, jaw dropped, his eyes going glassy. “Could that work?”

“It’s gonna work,” Jeb said, projecting all the confidence he could. “Because that’s what we need it to do.”

Jess met his gaze for a moment, gears turning coldly behind her eyes.

“Fine. Ron, you stay here, I’m faster by myself.”

Ron nodded and sat down beside Jeb, oohing over the guts of the Scrivener.

“Ron, since I’ve got you here alone,” Jeb opened.

“Hey!” Casey and Smartass interjected simultaneously.

“Close enough.” Jeb shrugged before returning his gaze to Ron. “I’d suggest treading carefully with Jess.”

“What, umm…what are you talking about?” Ron asked, his cheeks reddening.

“You know what I’m talking about. Jess is a dangerous woman. Don’t piss her off without a good reason. She’s capable of cold-blooded murder, more than any of you.”

“What,” Ron said with a half chuckle. “Pfft. No, she’s just dealing with stuff. She’s totally nice once you -”

“-get in her pants.” Casey supplied.

“Umm….”

Jeb shot Casey a grimace, and the teen looked suitably chastised.

“Look Ron, how do you think she got the Assassin class?” Jeb asked.

“…Defending herself?” Ron asked, unsure of his answer.

Jeb nodded. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe she had to kill someone in their sleep to avoid being brutalized. Regardless of how it went

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