Deputy Master Ronald stepped closer to the control console, his dark midnight robes sweeping over the fractured stone floor as his gaze drilled into the damaged brass components.
The scorched residue clinging to the teeth of the broken gears pulsed faintly, matching the erratic rhythm of the elder pinned to the flagstones. Ronald withdrew a small crystal lens from his belt, held it against the brass housing, and watched the internal runic logs shimmer into view. The timestamps recorded every mechanical interaction from the morning intake, displaying an intentional, violent surge of spiritual energy driven into the primary release valve forty breaths prior.
"The mechanisms do not lie," Ronald declared, his voice ringing against the black granite walls with absolute finality.
Elder Tegan
