Polyluminescent Undulating Infusion (Orange) rests in a slender glass vial, a living ember that breathes with a slow, conspiratorial rhythm when light touches its facets. Its surface ripples like a microtidal pool, glassy and slightly pliant to the touch, a warmth that travels under your skin as you cradle it. Within the glow you glimpse a chorus of tiny prisms that shift from amber to tangerine to sunset pink as the thing undulates in its own time. Old scrolls whisper that such infusions were born when bioluminescent creatures of molten caverns were pressed under glacial pressure and coaxed to flourish by careful alchemy. Many believe the orange hue marks a tempering of focus and endurance, forged during trials when ember-lit guilds pooled their courage. In practical terms, it belongs on the workbench and in the field alike: a tool that unlocks additional infusion potential in gear, letting a single item carry more of a player's intent than a simple stat line ever could. When slotted into ascended equipment, the infusion subtly alters the gear's resonance, nudging the balance of power toward your chosen path—be that frontline disruption, disciplined support, or sustained spellcraft. Players speak of it as a quiet partner in long campaigns, a glow that doesn't shout but keeps its own counsel while the world burns a little brighter around the party. The orange light seems to belong to the moment between decision and action—the split-second when a healer's cooldown is about to land, or when a bruising mettle-burst must be weathered by a shield that feels halfway earned. It is less a flashy gemstone than a careful adjustment, something you tuck away in the hardware of a build and forget until the next big fight demands it. Prices drift through crowded markets, and the tale of the infusion travels with merchants and misfits as they wander from stall to stall. Saddlebag Exchange, in particular, has become a steady crossroad where travelers barter color for coin and vice versa, a small ritual of trust among shopfronts and whispered negotiations. A bottle of orange glow may move for a modest handful of silver one day and for a more curious trade the next, depending on the hour, the mood of buyers, and the readiness of other adventurers to chase the glow. It’s a reminder that even a single infusion is part of a larger economy of memory and meaning—the kind of thing you buy not just to power a build, but to carry a story forward. In the end, the Polyluminescent Undulating Infusion (Orange) is a beacon and a bookmark: a signpost in the world’s ongoing drama, a reminder that the fiercest battles are often decided by the quiet shifts we make to our gear, our plans, and our courage. Some veterans hoard a few of these, passing them to hopeful apprentices who show restraint, believing color itself guides a raid’s tempo. The orange glow lingers in the memory of those who carried it through a night that never ended.