"It's done," Zelos said in response to Brok's usual irritated tone. Brok had assumed they were only there to interrupt his work, but the confident look on Zelos' face made him pause. Brok squinted at Zelos suspiciously, then realized what he meant.
"Well, what the fuck are you waitin' for then? Stick it in me," Brok said bluntly, crossing his arms as if ready for the procedure. Zelos blinked once, then a small smirk tugged on his lips.
"Hahahah, that's what she said," Zelos muttered, unable to resist. His joke, however, fell completely flat. Brok, Kratos, and Atreus all looked at him blankly, none of them understanding the reference.
"Never mind," Zelos said quickly, shaking his head as if to dismiss the awkward silence. He raised his hand, summoning a massive Abyssal Mark beneath Brok's feet. The black and crimson symbol spread outward, glowing faintly as runes shifted around the dwarf's body.
Brok's eyes widened as he felt the pull of the abyss opening beneath him. "Hey, what in the blazes—?"
"Relax," Zelos said calmly. "It's part of the process. The mark will complete your soul and stabilize your essence. You'll feel a bit of pressure, but it will not harm you."
Brok hesitated, then nodded. "Fine, but if this kills me, I'm hauntin' your ass," he grumbled before letting the Abyssal Mark engulf him completely.
Inside the swirling void of the mark, Brok's body underwent a slow transformation. The fragment of his soul that Zelos had recovered from the Light of Alfheim began to merge with his being. The faint blue hue of his skin gradually faded, replaced by his original earthy tone. His aura grew warmer, steadier, more whole than before. It was as if the missing rhythm of his life had returned, filling the hollow space within him.
As Zelos watched this transformation, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. The process unfolding before him sparked a new idea—one involving the reconstruction of a soul and its vessel.
He had already learned the methods of separation, preservation, and containment, but this was different. This was complete restoration.
'If I can perfect this… if mother hadn't died of age, perhaps this could have worked,' Zelos thought, the image of Faye flashing briefly in his mind. His eyes glowed faintly as he cast an inner spell, dividing his consciousness.
A portion of his mind branched off to begin developing this concept, operating like a second brain working in parallel. It was a technique he had invented long ago, similar to a skill he once called "Parallel Thought."
Moments later, the Abyssal Mark dimmed. Brok rose slowly from its center, stepping out of the shadowed surface with steady feet. The dwarf looked around in confusion, then down at his own arms. His skin no longer shimmered blue, and his vitality felt renewed. He clenched his fists, feeling strength he hadn't known in years.
"Welcome back to the living, Brok," Zelos said with a soft grin. He could see the subtle but clear difference—the completion of Brok's soul, the return of a lost spark.
Brok flexed his fingers, touching his chest, then exhaled deeply. "Well, I'll be damned. I feel… complete," he said, his tone softer than usual. He turned to Zelos and extended his hand in gratitude. "Thank you. Now for my end of the deal."
Zelos accepted the handshake, then watched as Brok began to weave a set of intricate runes in the air. The symbols glowed a deep gold, forming a ring that linked to Zelos' body. The energy was different from anything Zelos had seen—it was slower, more methodical, almost like a natural handoff.
Brok's technique wasn't as refined as his own instantaneous transfers, but Zelos noticed something fascinating. Brok's magic included a mental buffer that prepared the recipient's mind for the incoming energy, gradually synchronizing it. It was a method of teaching through attunement rather than force. Zelos silently admired it, recording the sequence into his memory.
As the magic flowed into him, Zelos felt a sudden shift in perception. His body shimmered faintly, and when it stopped, he was gone from sight. Kratos and Atreus blinked, startled, as if he had vanished into thin air.
Zelos, now invisible, reappeared several meters away, grinning at the success. He then teleported briefly to Alfheim, checking on the area near Sindri's old forge, but found it empty. After verifying the stability of the spell, he returned immediately—still invisible—standing right behind Atreus.
He dropped the concealment spell without warning.
"AHHHHH!" Atreus screamed, nearly falling forward as Zelos appeared behind him. Zelos laughed heartily while Kratos turned his head with an unamused glare.
"Neat trick, isn't it?" Zelos said proudly. "But it has weaknesses. Creatures that can perceive fluctuations in energy—like dragons—can still see through it. That's something I'll need to refine."
Brok, who was already hammering away at a set of upgrades for Kratos and Atreus, overheard and grunted. "That's because dragons share the same root as dwarves. Some of us can still take draconic forms. We're kin, in a way."
Zelos nodded thoughtfully as Brok finished his work. The dwarf tossed the newly forged axe toward Kratos. Kratos caught it midair, and immediately, he could feel the difference. The Leviathan Axe seemed to hum with power, its balance sharper, its weight lighter.
"Try it," Brok said proudly.
Kratos gave a small nod and hurled the weapon at the nearby wall. The axe spun faster than before, cutting through the air with greater precision. Upon impact, frost spread outward in a thick sheet of ice, stronger and colder than ever.
Atreus, holding his bow, felt a similar rush of energy. Brok gestured for him to test it as well. Remembering Zelos' deal with Brok, Atreus pulled back the string, expecting no arrow—and indeed, the bow itself conjured one from pure magic.
He aimed at the icy wall, and the arrow transformed into solid ice, releasing with a burst that mirrored Zelos' own frost spell.
When he imagined the light of Alfheim, the arrow changed again, drawing from the light infused in his bowstring.
A radiant beam formed into an arrow, bright and focused. He released it, and the light shot forward, embedding itself in the ice.
Both Kratos and Atreus continued experimenting with their new weapons, visibly pleased. Zelos stood quietly nearby, watching them with satisfaction.
His eyes softened slightly—he always found meaning in moments like this, seeing his companions grow stronger.
Brok then approached Zelos again, holding something wrapped in cloth. "Here," Brok said, pulling it free.
A sword gleamed beneath, large and beautiful, radiating heat. "This one's for you. Forged with stone from Muspelheim's core and fragments of Surtr himself.
The flames it carries can burn through even divine hides. Take it as a gift, my thanks for what you've done."
Zelos looked at the weapon, momentarily uncertain. "I appreciate it, Brok, but I already have a sword," he said after a pause. "And it tends to get jealous when I use others. I might not be able to accept it."
Brok scoffed. "What could be greater than this?"
In answer, Zelos unsheathed his own weapon—Voltan. The air around them shifted immediately. The sword pulsed with living lightning, its edge crackling softly. Brok's jaw fell open in disbelief.
"Sweet Nanna's nethers, what in the nine realms is that?" Brok whispered, leaning forward to inspect it. As he reached out, a spark of lightning snapped across the blade, stopping him instantly. The pressure that radiated from it felt like death itself.
"This is Voltan," Zelos said simply. "Born from my own heart and the essence of primordial lightning. It doesn't like being touched, but maybe it'll tolerate this one."
He took Brok's gifted sword and held it close to Voltan. For a moment, the two weapons seemed to examine each other. Voltan flared with light, sending faint pulses through the air, then dimmed slightly, almost approvingly. Zelos smiled faintly.
"It seems it's fine with this weapon," he said, securing Brok's sword at his side. Brok just stood there, shaking his head in awe. To him, the secrets hidden within Zelos were treasures beyond any forge's worth.
After some time, Kratos and Atreus finished testing their weapons and returned. They hadn't heard the details of what Zelos and Brok had discussed, but both nodded in quiet respect. Brok crossed his arms, a rare grin on his face.
"Not bad for a day's work," he muttered.
Zelos returned his smile, and the group began preparing to leave once again. As they walked away, Brok watched the back of Zelos with a mixture of curiosity and respect. He didn't know where the boy had come from, but he could tell one thing—Zelos was not ordinary.