The clearing buzzed with soft static as Elder Ion slipped the gauntlet over his forearm. It shimmered faintly, silver coils shifting and locking into place like a living puzzle.
"This," he said, holding up the device, "is the Gauntlet of Kinetra. It doesn't create force—it channels what's already there. Momentum, acceleration, vectors… all things you now understand."
Luma nodded, eyes wide. The gauntlet pulsed in Ion's grip as he pointed it at a boulder.
"Observe."
He took a steady stance, punched the air, and released a brief pulse of energy. The boulder jerked, skipped across the ground, and came to a wobbling stop several meters away.
Luma blinked. "Whoa."
"Not magic," Ion said. "It's Newton's Second Law—force equals mass times acceleration. I supplied the acceleration; the gauntlet translated it. The mass of my arm helped create the needed force."
He carefully unstrapped the gauntlet and handed it to her. "Now you try."
She slid it on. It hung awkwardly past her elbow. "Uhh… is this supposed to feel like a cooking pot on my arm?"
"Focus," Ion said, backing up with a grin.
Luma squared up like she'd seen him do—feet apart, one fist raised. She aimed at a small rock.
"Okay," she muttered. "Mass. Acceleration. Momentum."
She thrust her fist forward with all her might. A hum of energy burst—
—and the gauntlet yanked her backward like a slingshot. She spun once, flopped onto her back, and landed with a puff of dust and a surprised squeak.
Ion winced. "Ah. Right."
She groaned from the ground. "You said this would channel force, not toss me like a sack of potatoes."
"You're smaller than I accounted for," Ion admitted. "The gauntlet was calibrated for adult physicists—not… pocket-sized ones."
She gave him a glare, brushing dust from her cheeks.
Ion knelt and adjusted the gauntlet's dials. "There. I've set it to compensate for your lower body mass. It will now divert excess energy downward, anchoring you as you release force."
She got up and tried again.
This time, the hum buzzed gently, and her punch launched a small log into the air—without flinging her with it.
Her eyes lit up. "It works!"
Ion nodded. "Now we begin the true training."
Hours Later…
Sweat ran down her brow as she tested different motions. Ion had set up weighted targets that moved unpredictably. She had to calculate on the fly—How fast is it moving? How much mass? What angle will yield the best result?
Each punch, kick, or directed shove was a test of physics principles:
Timing and impulse
Angle of impact
Rotational force and leverage
And every mistake taught her something.
After one failed strike, she fell to her knees. "Too much to think about…"
Ion approached, kneeling. "When thought becomes instinct, Luma, that is when you're no longer a student of physics—but a weapon of understanding."
She raised an eyebrow. "That sounded cool, but it was really dramatic."
He chuckled. "Dramatic helps things stick."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun sink lower.
"Tomorrow," Ion said, "we move again. We're close now."
"To the Spire?"
Ion nodded. "Yes. And to the place where the Masters of Entropy tried to rewrite everything we know."