[ Constructs? D’Artagnan looks sharply at her. He hadn’t known there was a name for what he did, he only knows the results. Results like swords and daggers, dropping from thin air. A pilum that embeds beside him. Musket balls that appear out of nothing. He brushes dust off his arms. ]

A prison spell. It’s effective.

[ And terrifying, actually. Total restriction, and she says it had only been a partial spell. God, she’s powerful. It makes his ‘constructs’ look ridiculous. He gestures at where the musket balls had been. ]

I can make weapons. Any weapon, in theory, but I can’t always control it. I’ve been trying for shot since Athos asked the Network for it. It happens when I’m angry, and when I lose the feeling they disappear.

[ He shrugs. ]

The spear worked better.