POV: Valyria Dollen.
Date: Þórri 13th, 598 AD. (Alt: 25th January, 599 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
While in the real world Heath has been discussing a potential for the growing of a new consciousness in the original tree of Iðunn, progress has been steady in the Nether realm.
Leif's guidance into the machinations of the piglins has allowed them to earn 23 obsidian cubes that are then to be merged with the essence of Ender to make crying obsidian. To crush and refine the Ender pearls into a powder and then mixed.
Mixed with the escaping souls made solidified from the pitched sands by the lava ridges. (A similar process to how the soul sprites would appear when walking over with Soul Speed.) When he had read that from the engram, Leif wondered how Heath had come to such dark magic that goes against the very nature of life and death. "It is a false world, it is a false world-." He repeats to himself, yet a locket in his mind kept wondering what sort of battles Heath had been involved in when not ruling.
Overall, the people of this time never experienced games of this calibre, reminiscent of how the first film showcasing a train going towards the cinema caused the people to react in fright, these people had an even worse time with their direct interaction with these 'clearly' alive creatures.
By the first measure of time, that was the lava-height changes, they came across the first breath of life in such a desolate wasteland, an incredibly large fungal forest of psychedelic colours covered a portion of the landscape, Yufren, being the enthusiast of metals and qualifier of armour that he is, sees a long chunk of metallic brown that are closer in shape to scales in small jagged serrations hidden below a point from a ghast's fire charge. "Is that. . ?" He splinters off from the group to mine around it, the breaking of formation causing a pause.
Others follow behind him, hoping not to be caught off guard by any hostile creatures like the Hoglins. They half-encircle while keeping out soul-fire lanterns of incredible strength that lit the environment in a ghostly blue, warding all would-bes to the shadows.
"There are no fires within this explosion's radius, it must have been put out long ago." Egill surmises from the way the rack would keep it burning for near-indefinite periods of time. Leif behind him *Mm*'d in understanding from what he had read. (BTW, edited names of the previous chapter to keep continuity accurate, sorry!) "There are a few ways such fires would be put out upon rack without a God's power." He raised his pickaxe in joinage, quickening all working to mine out this torrid-cast material Heath had proclaimed in its durability.
Ari, the ever-so scrupulous merchant was seeing it in the background, wondering about ways to monetise these findings within this reality. He has a hint that this world may come to exist after these games are complete, and it will be just as important as their own realm.
He flipped his blonde hair out of his left eye to see his now 'repenting (freed)' þræll Arngunn holstering her weapon at a ready draw, glancing with obvious disdain towards him for how he used to treat them. Ari simply scoffed in his mind, seeing many of the other keepers as weak for being so friendly with their own when his methods were more effective, but everything they saw was neatly viewed by Valyria, who caught the reactions with eyes hinted darker than onyx. She looks downwards towards Egill in the screen, where he could do nothing.
'Papa gave them a new chance with the golems.' She closed herself to the world for a moment. 'Yet they did not change as my uncles had hoped.' She put too much responsibility upon herself, someone less than two months old acting decades older than they should.
She now sees them taking out the chunk in its slag form, forming closed pear shapes in natural formations as pyrite would to cubes. They send the deer off to retrace their steps with the Netherite in a multi-cloth-thickened satchel for the humans to continue trekking in an environment too hostile for quadripeds. "Hey, kid." The voice that helped to keep her calm spoke from behind her, she looked backwards and below her to see her Papa looking up towards her with feeling. "I thought to take you away from the dinge and do a trip."
Heath's lightheartedness was met with a shaken head. "I am watching, and I have spotted a few people who may be an issue." Her memories played back for him, showing Ari's contemptuous character. Heath breathed out in silence, showing he already knew.
"I have no way to deal with him, kid." Heath spoke from within their mind-link, languor staining his thoughts. "Not without compromising my morals or my sigil, he denies any attempts for therapy or counselling. And he's not so terrible as to need to be altered irreparably, his only flaw being exceptional greed." His lips pulled a line. "I will see if his 'condition' worsens, even with greater standard of living. If so. It may be inevitable." He suddenly warps in a glass of iced water, taking a single gulp while chewing quietly.
"*Hrm*I wish to give you a better life than you already have. Not following on my promise to you was one of my faults." Heath sighed, barely perceptible except for his daughter in front of him. "Papa. . ." She wished to say it was not his fault, but she knew it would not help.
Her father was one of the few people who took the pain of others worse than she did. "Both you and I are a sop, aren't we? *Chuckles*" Heath finally showed he had self-awareness. "We are getting better, compared to me stomping before." She scratched her scalp, tingling slightly with embarrassment as she finally saw it from his perspective for his open reaction. She still wonders how they grew to be so close so quickly in under that time. "Magic." Heath responded to her expression, for both their souls contacted freely to allow this fast bonding.
"Let us hope that our diplomacy skills have not rusted once we ever encounter a non-magical species." Heath's breath buzzed with hidden jollity. "I know it won't." Valyria finally reached over to give a hug and a kiss to his forehead.
"Join me on the first floor if you ever need to, kid. I'll be by with Dov Chzek." He lets go for her to continue her watch, leaving reluctantly but adding in new focus for his son's raising. 'He enjoys weapons. How should I do this?' He thinks in Norse again while stroking his beard slowly, his eyebrows suddenly rising and his lips puckered in a thought. "I cannot create weapons of elemental charge aspects, for it may cause the Gods to react. I think I will create something more technological." He looks towards the concrete below his feet, forming an idea.
"Ah, a crusher gun." Heath warped to the (elemental farm) with highly plausible constructs in imagination. He first creates the hollow chamber with a gated insertion line, beside both parts of the entrances and under the gate, there is a customisable 'shape filter.'
This 'shape filter' would mean that if rocks that are too large to be shot through the barrel were first broken down and formed into a more stable structure in the shape of a bullets, cartouches or small cannonballs, it could be further altered to create shrapnel shot, spike shot or grape shot by a dial, but is not developed enough to make chain shot. Either way, the excess material would go below into a feeding magazine pipe to then be remoulded into a new projectile for efficient material usage.[1]
While this entire mechanism is empowered and continuous in independent development with maintenance and repair functions, there is one final feature he wishes to add. Which is an increased storage compartment using a portal feeding system.
Just like the adaptable hilts with their ability to be warped to an unspecified location, Heath will create a hidden silo that is the same size as a two-story apartment room within Den höga ormtungan, where the gun would store all of the extra gravel and stone, which, with the shot it creates being the size of a .950 JDJ, it could create a bit > 2,500,000 of them without additional resources inserted. And if they are ever in a magicless environment, the modular storage backpack could allow for ≈ 350. With it shooting these bullets every 2 Model seconds.
The best features came at last, however, for Heath has been devising a new material using the same CrCoNi alloy but with a solidified magic to be combined and overwriting its internal structuralization. Casting an oversaturated grey from within that did the opposite to the copper.[2]
The environment around appeared MORE vibrant from this cinereal (cloudy) development. The entirety of this weapon has been made from this 'meta-material' that he shall now dub *Dyḗusium (Sky Metal.) Its durability, tensility and toughness have been enhanced further by more than x100. Where not even Heath can scratch its surface. The only beings Heath knows could damage it are Þórr or Óðinn-adjacent powers, and they are rare in such a world as Twilight of the Gods. (Heath will not give this until Sterling becomes more mature.)
"With the instillment of these attributes, they can have a much greater lifespan, it seems." Heath turned analytical, studying its features with an unknown finesse, even to himself. "I shall use this material, replace all of the steel and concrete in use, leaving the copper." . . .
"That may make this home truly worthy." Heath's consciousness widened as that mentality suddenly snapped out of himself, he looked around in worry, that unattached state was too out of his own personal character. 'Damn Divinity is messing with my head. I'm gonna be MP (Multiple personalities) by the end of this, aren't I?' Heath scrambled in English for another potential solution in his mind, unable to find one. He shakes his head, refocusing on the *Dyḗusium at hand. It feels incomplete, needing a binder that could keep it stable.
Heath takes a portion of his own regrowable excess from his soul, an aspect of himself when greater than his original capacity, and in the same note, as the DNA is protected and maintained by the telomeres, it caps its entire structure for nigh-invulnerability.
Heath holds the weapon that resembles the love-child of a 500 Bushwacker Revolver and an M-41 Surface-to-Surface Rocket Launcher in his hands, the extension of his soul giving the weapon a form of external visibility from his body with the combination of runes it utilises. Another unexpected benefit. "I will call you the Marmot, I like myself some rock chucks." He strokes the weapon in fondness before going to the Halcrodóttir triplets' home again. Through the hallways, he goes from their front door and up the stairs to meet up with them.
He sees the dyes he had provided a few Model hours prior, working to make a tie-dye design with the flowing patterns based on dune waves seems to have used up a lot. He expected more mess, to be fair, Sterling would be a good painter.
"Hello again, great scientist God. Here to see Mǫl again, are you?" Ægileif holds her chin up with her fist upon the soft sofa, looking caringly towards the youngest member of their family. "Yes I am, good to see you are in good spirits as well. Himlauf was not too bad of a sport after losing, was he?" Heath saw her try to hold her laughter, TV static forced out of her nose. "He is alright, nothing the weapon made by a Deity could not fix. He loved the adaptiveness of it." She thought of a funny joke running between them.
"They have been planning something known as 'grip-kata,' by switching the lengths of the hilts and making it appear and disappear from their hands for unexpected punches, grapples or swift kicks. They stumbled over a few times during this training-!*Wheeze*" . . .
"*Breath in*" She scratches the side of her nose in awkwardness before getting up and sauntering over to the table. "This is one of your child's most recent creations." She shows off the tunic for normal mennskr with a stylised picture of the Völsung Clan's flag, her esteem towards Sterling's creation showing happiness. "Brother's sewing skills are becoming sharp~!" A sudden voice is heard from behind Heath, seeing Valyria staring towards it while walking up the stairs. "Yes, both of you should be very proud." She carefully puts it back.
"Are you planning to put it up as a souvenir or will either of you three wear it?" Heath asks while wrapping one arm around his daughter's shoulders once finished floating up to her height. The sight appearing closest to a bad comedy skit for the others.
"It was for brother Alfárn, I am making this last one for sister Jarðrúðr, she likes rainbows." Sterling comments in the background, fully committed. "What about your one then, Ægileif?" Heath asks her after nodding, knowing of the previous one that had been made but not seen. She goes to the nearby closet next to her own bed and taking it out, an intricately designed peplos in full view, the wavy sands separating the waist and arm lines to conform to the body's natural contours while also appearing stylish.
"Oo, I wanted one of those, but with fish designs." Valyria comments, the underlying meaning being that it is a good choice of garment. "Yes, we will. And I would better reward my Dov Chzek for such excellent work. Do you 3 want to join for a barbecue, Ægileif? I need some food testers."
Heath's question was met by a slightly muddled voice at first. "We- Well of course! Though they may take a while to come over." Heath kissed the side of Valyria's cheek before coming back down to normal height. "We have all the time in the night." He plops down on the side of the sofa closest to the false window, seeing Sterling's work with the second peplos dress in turn. "Nicely done." Heath compliments him. "Not ready yet, father!" He comments, expecting it will look even better as a finished product.
Heath stares upwards and through the ceiling towards the open sky, the view of the night as enchanting as ever. "I wish I had magic sight." Valyria says from his look while sitting next to her brother on the floor. "I could teach you, you simply have to learn about wavelengths."
Heath's comment was met with an excited stare and nod while looking towards each other. "But later, right now all of us are relaxing." He closes off most of his sensory except for touch and selective hearing for his many names, returning back into that colourless void again, before picturing the dream space for more internal experimentation, testing the boundaries of his sigil in failure testing for different outcomes. Time passed by until it came close to first light before Heath heard his daughter call for Papa again.
He returns all of his senses to normal again and sees Alfárn and Jarðrúðr coming up together on the stairs while behind their sister, once their feet are planted safely on the floor they are at, they say hello to Heath, Valyria and Sterling in order.
"Lovely, I like how it is a circle on the front and another at the back. Reminds me of A Bathing Ape, a popular Japanese fashion brand." Heath rubs the top of Sterling's head in a show of appreciation. "I know you will love this gift, Jarðrúðr." He looks towards them in expectation once done playing with his son's hair "So, what were your thoughts?" Before they answer, he warps in a small glass of mixed berry cordial to drink. "It would be perfect, great scientist God." Alfárn responds for himself and Jarðrúðr, leading to a hidden eye twitch from Heath.
'I would rather you three actually use my name.' Heath internally enjoyed being respected, but he realised that this form of depersonalisation had been going on for too long now. He does not voice it and instead brings them all out to the northern forest Deer complex site, but repurposed.
Under an agreement between Heath and their elders, he has been given leeway to create a small, modernly hackneyed location. There are 8 thick 5M 200gsm Canvas Lite Bell Tents, where each of them could sleep individually, 2 split between 4 different nesting sites, and in the centre of the complex meeting area contains the log seating and campfire, rustic and cosy, though the repeating diamond pattern of trees with the giant concrete walls gives it a sense of liminality. The sound of insects, reptiles and birds still giving a form of ambience.
Heath also brought over the young boy Arnfinnr and Rod as another person who does not sleep. He felt it was lonely for both of them, having little to no contact or more interactive entertainment. By bringing them over, all were treated to other than their isolated environment.
From how Heath gathered it, this was a previous form of an exchange program the Dryhtens of part of their culture would give their children in a form of non-payable ransom. Where as long as they were kept, it was a form of bargaining chip to be held against the Vanir. It was one of their more pragmatic yet cold efforts, but it seems that Iðunn trusted him enough for him to be held and taught some ways. As even with Rod's 'old' appearance, he was only 5 years old. 'Now this is just cruel.' Was what he had said to them.
But they paid no heed, just as the case with Adal, they gave him little time with no obviously negative tradeoffs, the only standard thing being that they would communicate from time to time. Of course, Adal would report to them, but their account proceedings, even those thought hidden, are always monitored.
The last thing he does is set the 'keyboard' to play music in the background automatically, an additional feature he has installed with the server fully online. He had done a large playlist of hundreds of different songs, each categorised according to whether they have lyrics or their genres. He chose the slow, mellow instrumentals so as not to ruin what can be seen of nature. While it searches for the necessary connections. Heath begins a convo with Rod to see if he is alright with everything. As said last time, he was thanked for the worry, but unnecessary all the same.
Mostly the old guitar playlist from when he was a college student before going to the military, a time he looks over with some unknown emotion. He sits down, and under the view of everyone, he changed back to his form from when he was a normal man.
A height of 5.5014-Model m (1.7781-m (5 foot 10).) Still the fully bald head, but with a few small scars and indents by the side of his eyebrow and nose, barely perceptible in the darkness. A semi-wide build with some tonality to his arms that you would expect of a corpsman, but with a worker's gut. Thickened, built legs for endurance and a slight reaching gait, as in his home realm he was power walking everywhere he went. He sits down in pose while keeping both hands on his knees, the log creaking slightly from his weight.
Even when in his original form, he can still see the slight height difference to those from the 6th Century. Alfárn, one of the taller men of the Völsung Clan, was still 5.3438-Model m (1.7272-m (5 foot 8),) the tallest being Leif at 5.5797-Model m (1.8034-m (5 foot 11),) but he is an anomaly.
The tunic and trousers were also resized, their details kept the same. All 6 of them see his transformation, understanding he sees this environment as a point for relaxation. ". . . You still appear a worker, your calloused palms tell of it." Rod spots his hands with thickened knuckles and roughened joints. "Took me a while to build them up back then, I used to have hobbies in masonry and electronics, as you could guess with my builds." He holds a smirk while altering the log seat below him, as it was slanted slightly to the right side.
"Your world had an incredible economy, yet your interests were common jobs for your time?" Ægileif questions wonderingly, keeping an eye to his forearms' scars. "It was an honest life." Heath's chest rised and fell rapidly, hiding a deep well of more fond memories.
He pokes the fire in front of him with his magic from its slow start, the reds and yellows providing a warming hue to their location. They talk about their individual hobbies and interests, what sort of things were around in Heath's world and how their history was different from his. It passed many Model hours, the custom grill providing many rare applications of roasted or primed foods and confectioneries. Many chose to visit their site while they were in this cookout. As you could guess, mainly the deer.
Were they ever so pushy, joining in and trying many of the foods while also fawning over Heath showing his previous form. He recognised this was just another part of their mentality he had to sort out with some psychology or sociology lessons later.
'I did not feel it even now, but I do believe another God has interfered with the process, Freyja or another? They may have thought it was 'help' to artificially raise loyalty by instilling 'endless adoration' or absolute worship of me in them. Or is it just a quirk of their physiology? I don't blimin' know.' Heath held his forehead while using his tongs to flip over the proteinated myco-burger patty for the more vegetarian deer. A simple twist of the wrist and a small flip is where it reaches the right consistency in softness and chewability.
"And here ya go." Heath comments to Agostino, 3rd burger in a row while resting with Sophia upon their old nesting ground. She had her own small bowl of salad and a tea by her, watching her mate lovingly cuddle up with her.
Heath nodded to them in full for their open romance, then moved off to finish the rest of the food. Whence done with this myco-bacon slice, Agnarr and Hervor appear through the portal and in the area with her three sons, them talking about acclimating to their father being alive again with incredible swiftness from the snippets of conversation heard. 'Guess they still held a soft spot for him.' Heath internally gives a thumbs up for them not keeping to tradition and twisting their father's arm back to the afterlife.
He prepares a few of the extra 'mystery' meat patties, which he will give to them as a surprise as soon as everyone else tries them. A concoctive mixture he came up and kept in with the (sugar / salt farm) in bulk: Cellular agriculturally grown meat!
It had enough jumbled DNA that it contains the information of every edible animal, with it being parts rather than a singular creature, it then cancels itself out to be distinctly foreign to everyone who ate it, like a banana's >≈ 60% genetically identical features to humans, except EVEN LESS. It was tested, kept under sterile conditions, and grown at a rate of a Ton per Model hour, thanks to magically created liquid proteins and nutrient injectors that, with their simplicity, served as the 'building blocks' of life while not alive themselves and were automatically producible.
Described under Heath's strokes of madness, the few with their beliefs already in jeopardy with the awakened deer and with the possibility of more creatures becoming the same in intelligence chose not to comment on any approval or dissent, but stared ahead unknowingly.
One good thing with this being a GMO construct, though, was that one could change its structural features, ANY texture or meat flavours under toggles. 'Perfect.' Heath smiles.
[1] ᛉ (Protection / Shield / Elk,) ᛇ (Yggdrasil / Yew Tree / Dream Rune,) ᚱ (Horse / Ride / Journey / Thor Rune,) ᛟ (Heritage / Estate Rune,) ᚾ (Need / Hardship Rune,) ᛗ (Man / Human / Self Rune,) ᚠ (Cattle / Livestock / Wealth Rune,) ᛖ (Horse / Twin Forces Rune,) and ᚨ (Odin / Inspiration / Wisdom Rune.)
[2] From Chapter 48: 'It is time.' He places the copper bar next to the magic block of the same size beside each other, then ever so slowly pushes them together. He forces an interaction between the magic and the metal, molecule by molecule. It shines oranges and greens, interacting with time and space in a way that it ages, destabilises, obfuscates and returns to its original form. It appears a colour combination so vibrant that it dulls its surroundings just by existing, scintillating between said 'oranges' and 'light browns' that are impossible to picture.