Returning to the future, on the verge of merging magic and technology, Ellenore and her goblin guard descended to the deepest level of the factory—the Pavilion. It was a revered station, reserved for only the most groundbreaking works. At the hour, it buzzed with workers, technicians, and assistants finalizing Ellenore's greatest experiment because everything had to be perfect. She would only get one chance to attempt the impossible.

"Armez?" The lady's voice echoed as she and Vilk finally reached the heart of the building. As they walked, bodies parted, making way for them like a knife slicing through the whistling wind.

The scientist, Armez, was a demon with prominent horns and blood-red skin, as one might expect of his kind. However, his horns were cast in silver chrome polished to an eerie reflective shine. His outward appearance was only slightly softened by his lab attire, but he couldn't frighten Ellenore or her guard.

Armez was in the midst of prepping a body that lay on an elevated table in the center of the chaos. At the sound of Ellenore’s voice, he ceased his movements and turned to greet her, softly saying, "Ellenore."

"How is he?" The witch's voice was a whisper, heavy with anticipation, as she circled the body. Vilk couldn't bear to glance at the corpse for more than a heartbeat, but Ellenore steeled herself to marvel at the lifeless vessel before her.

"His iron heart is beating, the machinery is turning without effort, but..." Armez's voice trailed off, filled with hesitation despite the procedure having gone to plan up to the final and critical step that only Ell could execute.

"Then we proceed," Ellenore declared bluntly, her eyes welling with tears that she refused to shed. There was no time for weeping. The body had been preserved for several seasons to keep it from rotting, but, in order to go forth with the procedure, it had to be thawed. Every second that passed, was a breach opening itself to decay.

"Ell, it's not too late," Vilk cautioned, his voice strained with worry.

"Would you have me abandon what we've worked for? We will never have Larimer back if we don't finish." 

The corpse, the body, the lifeless vessel lying at the center of their world that day, was Larimer—what was left of him.

Ellenore sought to steady her thoughts and Vilk's alike. "Your brother will live again. We will have him back," she said, her voice trembling with desperate optimism.

Vilk could only reply, "My brother is dead, Ell. We killed him. But do what you must." His words hung heavy in the air, suffocating the room with a palpable grief. The goblin refused to invest himself in the work, choosing instead to remain as stoic as his heart would allow. For months, Vilk knew exactly what Ellenore planned to do, but he couldn't envision it. He couldn't fathom the brazen attempt at playing god. But seeing his brother's corpse made it real, too real, to smile, laugh, or joke. 

A heaviness bore down on the room, but there was never any doubt. Ellenore would proceed, and Vilk would be there by her side. He had to be, if not as her guard, then as an eagerly awaiting sibling torn by what could be and what would.

Just as Ellenore was about to give the order to continue, a sudden, deafening sound shattered the tense silence.

"BANG!"

A single gunshot rang out from above, its echo reverberating through the factory. The bullet struck its target with deadly precision—Larimer's iron heart.

"You are nothing if not a child, Ellenore. Playful, confident, and naïve, pretending to be taller than the mountains and stronger than the wind at your back," the voice of the shooter taunted, dripping with both amusement and irritation as he made his unwelcome entrance.

"Kurt?!" Ellenore screamed, her rage and grief finally breaking through as her tears flowed freely. Her eyes locked onto her rival with burning hatred.

"Did I not warn you? The elms under your roof are tainted, and I will see them expunged from my city," Kurt declared, his voice cold and unyielding. He aimed his weapon not at Ellenore, but at Vilk, whose very presence seemed to fuel Kurt's vengeful fury.

To be continued.