Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Spectra’s gaze fixed on him, attentive now in a different way.

”Rather than getting angry,” he went on, ”you should understand that this is a partnership. I’m not trying to cage you for the sake of it. I’m trying to keep you in a place where you can be useful without becoming a threat.”

Spectra did not speak right away.

Then, to his slight surprise, she smiled and floated closer, fast. Like she was going to attack.

But Lancet, knowing it was a test, stood still, refusing to react.

Spectra stopped a hair’s breath from his chest. She rose just enough that their eye lines nearly matched despite the fact that she was not standing on the ground properly anymore.

Her fingers lifted and gently touched his cheek.

The contact was cool and light, but it still made Lancet stiffen by instinct.

”Ooh,” she murmured, ”you are exciting.”

Her gaze slid over his face as though she were studying a painting she was not yet sure whether she wanted to keep or destroy.

”Are you trying to tame me, Summoner?” she asked, her voice softening into a purr. ”Like the ravaging beast I am? The feared Demoness?”

Lancet did not move away from her touch, though his eyes remained steady.

”No,” he said. ”I’m trying to reason with you. Work with you.”

Spectra’s fingers lingered on his cheek for a moment longer before drifting away. She circled him slowly, floating like a beautiful omen passing through the air.

”You say that as if reason is something people offer to monsters,” she said.

”It is, when those monsters are useful.”

That earned him a low, delighted laugh.

Spectra came to a stop in front of him again, her expression now more openly interested than before. ”You really are unusual.”

Lancet took that in silence, then spoke again in a more practical tone. ”You’re strong now. Stronger than most people here would know how to deal with. But you’re still nowhere near your prime.”

That made Spectra pause. Lancet watched the shift in her eyes and pressed on before she could hide it.

”I can help you get back to what you were.”

Spectra’s expression changed in an instant. She stopped smiling, but only because the idea had seized her attention so completely that amusement was no longer enough.

”How?”

Lancet waited a bit to tease her attention, to make her want it more. He maintained a gaze with her, gauging her reaction, then said the one thing he knew would matter most.

”I can get you your catalyst back.”

For the first time since she appeared, Spectra’s face fully altered.

The teasing quality in her eyes sharpened into focused intensity. Her body stilled in the air, and even the faint sway of her hair seemed to settle as she stared at him.

The interest in her expression was more evident than before. Play time was over. Spectra Hexerra was serious now.

”It wasn’t destroyed,” Lancet continued. ”The humans probably didn’t even know what it really was when they thought they had taken everything from you.”

Spectra’s gaze locked onto him.

He could feel the change in the room now. She was not simply listening anymore. She was holding onto every word.

”I know where it is,” Lancet said.

Spectra’s lips parted slightly. ”Where?”

Lancet smiled at that funny question. ”I can’t just tell you that.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He continued before she could speak. ”So let’s make a deal. You become my Summon in full, not just in name. You obey me. You do what I ask, you don’t cause trouble, and in return I get your catalyst back to you.”

There was a long pause after that. Rather than thinking about the question, Spectra was studying him in silence.

Perhaps she already knew her answer.

Lancet could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, the old instinct for calculation beneath the sensual calm she wore so easily. Her gaze drifted, then paused when it reached his hand.

Her eyes fixed on the ring. The Phantom Tag-Team Conduit Ring.

”That is a Phantom Ring,” she said softly.

Lancet glanced down at his right index finger.

”You have worn it since Hebthej,” she murmured, her knowing smile slowly returning to her lips. ”Which means I have charged it as well.”

Lancet looked back at her but said nothing.

Spectra leaned slightly closer, her voice lowering into a tone silkier than before. ”Do you feel it yet?”

”Feel what?” Lancet asked with creased brows. ”Your power?” he said, almost dismissively, as though that was the least interesting answer he could have given. ”Yes, of course. Your Grace feels different than Thor and Astensia’s. It’s harder to hold. Strange. Difficult to control.”

Spectra frowned for a second then smiled again, deeper. ”No. Not just my Grace.”

She lifted her chin a fraction, her expression turning strangely intent. ”Feel deeper. Dig beneath it and tell me. Do you feel it?”

Lancet’s brows furrowed.

Spectra’s eyes gleamed with an evil kind of knowledge. ”Do you feel Gloom?”

Goosebumps spread all over Lancet’s skin.

Spectra smiled with hunger. A hunger to share. ”Do you feel it? Just beneath your reach. Tethering. Volatile. Untapped. An energy with endless possibilities.”

Lancet stared at her for a long second.

He could sense what she meant, or at least some shadow of it. Something in the edge of her presence, in the strange nature of the Phantom Ring, in the resonance of her own power, suggested that she was not merely speaking poetically.

But he did not want to reach for that darkness and invite it closer just to satisfy her curiosity.

After a moment, he tightened his narrowed eyes with more conviction. ”I would rather not.”

Spectra let out a slow, elegant sigh and drifted back a little, her expression shifting into one of slight disappointment.

”You all choose to limit yourselves because you fear the domain of the unpure,” she said with a droop of her shoulders. ”I thought you were different. But I suppose I was wrong.”

Lancet watched her carefully.

Then, to his surprise, her disappointment did not remain bitter for long. It melted into a softer expression, one that was almost fond by comparison. Her smile returned, gentler now but still undeniably dangerous.

”But I like you well enough, Lancet Leogardt.”

Spectra folded her hands loosely before her as she floated there, as if settling into the conversation rather than ending it. ”You are the first human I have met who has not made me feel the need to stay distant.”

She tilted her head, considering him with a strange sort of curiosity.

”Maybe it is the tether that connects our souls and forces me to be your Summon,” she said. ”Or maybe it is fate. Something that bound us from different ages to the same time.”

Lancet’s eyes narrowed just slightly. ’Or maybe,’ he thought, ’it is because I’m your creator and you’re my creation.’

The thought stayed inside his head.

Spectra smiled as though she could hear it anyway. ”Whatever the reason,” she said, ”I agree to your terms. I will be your Summon.”

Her voice lowered, becoming more serious beneath the velvet. ”And in return, you will find me my catalyst.”

Lancet studied her for a moment longer, then gave a small nod.

”Deal.”

Spectra’s smile widened, and the red haze lingering around her seemed to brighten in response.

”Very well then,” she hummed. ”For now, Lancet Leogardt, I am yours.”