Her first thought was light, and indeed, burning a smattering of Thauma and funneling it through her arm with the io produce light caused a reddish-e glow to spill from its many crevices, illuminating the entire hallway with scattered rays. It staunchly refused to narrow into a usable beam, and feeding it more Thauma produced an uably small light increase pared to how much heat aropy roduced, so she just let it go for now. At least, with some further experimentation, Krahe found she could easily produce a small fme from her left hand, a trick she had always wao do, but never could justify due to the space it would’ve taken up in her cyberics.

  “Now I just need hand-rolled au-naturale real-paper cigarettes,” she muttered with a mencholic smile, watg the fme as she walked, repeating word-for-word a cheesy line from an old B-grade gangster movie.

  Soon, she reached the b.

  First things first, she washed her fa the sink and sat down behind the writing desk, taking more ammo from its topmost drawer so she would have one clip in the gun and three in hand’s reach, whilst also fag the room’s orance. She rifled through the desk’s other drawers. Most tained writing supplies, books, and journals, a majority of them indecipherable. Those which she could read were one of two categories: Maintenance manuals for the maes in this pce, and anatomical books. The tter of the two groups were all marked as “Property of the Grafting Church, Audunpoint Branch”. Either the b owner was a member, or not supposed to have these… Or the inal owners could be defunct, she supposed.

  As she went further, Krahe id out anything vaguely iing oabletop.

  First came the gun’s ammunition, holster, and a gun mainte, including a manual, a box filled with spare en-bloc clips and another filled with empty shell gs and bullet moulds. Instead of primers, the cartridges had are sigils. The manual’s cave up more than just the secret of the gun’s name:

  Pattner Mod. 3 Lever Pistol

  Prod. Series No. 1

  5133 AB

  1/72

  On the inside was a hand-written dedication.

  “To my good friend and generous beor, Audun Sorun. This gun would were it not for you, it is only right that you have the first produodel.”

  From a brief skim-read, Krahe was delighted to find that the manual taihe gun’s blueprints and guides on how to produew ammunition. Besides the ammo, she also found a regur sb of onyx or some other polished, stone-like material, thrumming with magic. The moment she picked it up, she felt a ping of newness; a ab in her menu.

  [STE]

  Excited by the prospect of being able to have things on-hand without needing to physically carry them, she mentally ahe ste to open… Only to find that the tablet demahauma. And so, she sat down, with the gun in her right hand and the tablet in her left, once more fog on the idea of opening a window to that promised ste-space. Thauma surged in, igniting and flowing through her arm and out of the palm, setting the whole limb alight with the same ember-like glow she’d produced in the hallway.

  Seds became minutes. She felt a vague sense ress, but with a bit of focus she mao catot only a more exact sense of how far along the ste-opening process was, but also how mutropy she had; it was nearly done, and her Entropy was at around one quarter of her Tolerance, slowly rising.

  With a noise like flesh tearing and gss crag simultaneously, a hole in the world yawned opehe tablet’s reflective surface, a gaping void shimmering with iridest shades of uy. Meanwhile, in her mind’s eye, the [Ste] submenu opened. It was empty - weird, sidering where she found the object. A few possibilities came to mind. It could have gone unused for some reason, perhaps being a backup, or each person had their own specific ste pocket to which the tablet merely served as a eg terminal. The reason to keep things around physically was obvious - minutes of oime and a fair bit of effort to access the ste made it impractical for st things one might a moment’s notice.

  She tossed an ammo clip into the rift. It showed up on the list. One by one, she transferred all the ammo from the drawer into the ste dimension, keeping two clips on her person. Ating for the five bullets in her gun, she had a total of seventy-one bullets. All of the firearm mainte followed, and since she couldn’t find a belt of any sort, she stored away the gun’s holster as well.

  Not as many as she would’ve liked, but it wasn’t as if she was reliant on ballistiymore. She had half a mind to toss all of the books into ste as well, to just gut the whole pd take as much stuff as she could. However, she felt that the type of person to have a b in a pce like this would be far more likely to e after her over research materials than a handgun, unless firearms were extremely valuable in this world; she only took the anatomy book, as it had been buried deep enough and covered in enough dust that she figured it wouldn’t be missed and its absence wouldn’t be noticed right away. She chose to leave the other books behind, taking a few more minutes in this pce of apparent safety to examihe other facets of her menu, closing the [Ste]. Putting dowablet, she wondered what exactly ecial about her left arm, what features it had and so on, just as she had thought about actual cyberware in her past life. Querying [obog’s Mystic Wisdom], she found that it nudged her towards [Fleshgrafting].

  There, she found not just her arm, but her bodysuit as well.

  “Was this why the suit was the only thing that came with me? ’t be just because it’s anic, half my cyberics had anipos…” she thought, but didn’t dwell on it much longer, opening the detailed readout for her left arm.

  Akaso