X-Men: The Unnatural Omega's Volume 3, Omniversal Breach
Chapter 18: Of Ice and Mithrill
…
Beneath the canopy of an ancient forest, the portal site bustled with activity. Hiccup and Toothless, alongside Astrid, Valka, and the other four riders of Berk, adjusted their intricate dragon-scale armor, gleaming with remnants of Smaug's very being. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation. This was no ordinary mission; it was a diplomatic endeavor, and they were headed to the unpredictable Skelliger Isles.
Amongst them, the wise Druid Erméan and the mystical Peller from Geralt's realm whispered incantations, ensuring their path through the portal would be free of magical interferences. Geralt, Letho, and Eskel, three Witchers known for their battles with the supernatural, looked ready, their silver swords catching the dim light filtering through the trees.
Nearby, an eclectic mix of time-traveling adventurers and spectral experts were hard at work. Doc Brown, with his signature wild hair, worked closely with the Ghostbusters to calibrate the portal's energy flow, ensuring a stable transition. Overseeing the process was Leonardo, with Raphael at his side, both ensuring the technological integrity of the device.
Amidst this flurry of preparations, a tender scene unfolded. Geralt, the hardened Witcher, paused, leaning down to kiss his beloved Yennefer and their children. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised, his voice softening in a rare moment of vulnerability.
With everything in place, Lego Batman, the unlikely technician of the group, entered the portal's coordinates. He pulled down a lever, and a shimmering gateway appeared, its core radiating a spectrum of colors and inviting them to step through.
One by one, they ventured in, emerging on the other side in Skellige. The transition was smooth, landing them not far from the serene beach but close enough to the welcoming shade of the forest. The salty air was laden with the distant sound of horned melodies and festivity, signaling their anticipated arrival.
There, at the edge of the treeline, stood Queen Cerys's loyal men. Beside them, Vernon Roche and Ves, who had managed to reunite before this critical meet-up. The Skelligers looked on with a mix of awe and suspicion, their rugged faces trying to make sense of the tales they'd heard and the reality unfolding before them.
As Toothless landed gracefully on the sandy turf, a disbelieving Skelliger whispered to his ally, his voice laced with wonder, "Told you... they ride dragons."
…
The group moved forward, the dragons' impressive wings folding neatly to their sides as the riders dismounted. Astrid's dragon Stormfly chirped with a sense of excitement, the Skelligers around them drawing back slightly in awe.
Hiccup took the lead, extending his hand to Queen Cerys. "Your Highness, it's an honor to be here," he greeted, his dragon Toothless by his side, warbling in agreement.
Cerys smiled warmly, grasping his hand firmly. "The honor is ours, Hiccup. Tales of your adventures have reached even the furthest islands of Skellige." She nodded towards Hjalmar, who stepped forward with a hearty laugh.
Vernon Roche approached, giving Geralt a nod of recognition. Ves, always vigilant, surveyed the scene with a careful eye, her hand never straying far from her sword's hilt.
After exchanging initial pleasantries, Roche commented, "I've noticed the monster count's been pretty low since you last swept through, Geralt."
Raising an eyebrow, Geralt asked, "And why would that be?"
Roche chuckled, "You did such a thorough job the last time, hunting down nearly every beast during your search for Ciri. The islands have been almost peaceful."
The two other witchers, Letho and Eskel, exchanged surprised looks. Clearly, they hadn't expected to hear that their fellow Witcher had cleared out an entire archipelago of its monster populace.
Noticing their astonishment, Geralt just shrugged, a hint of pride in his voice, "I'm a dedicated worker."
The statement drew some chuckles from the group, as Hiccup interjected, "Seems we all have our own unique methods of making a lasting impression." The sentiment was met with nods of agreement, as the gathering moved into more strategic discussions for the mission ahead.
…
The group made their way to the stronghold, the majestic sight of Kaer Trolde rising up from the cliffs. Cerys had made significant improvements since she took the throne, making it both more formidable and welcoming.
Jarls from various parts of Skellige were already arriving in longboats, their sails proudly displaying the sigils of their clans. There was an air of anticipation. Every clan leader's presence was required to discuss the impending threats and the diplomatic matters on hand. Among them was the newly elected Jarl who had replaced Madman Lugos. His replacement, a robust man named Erik, had a determined look about him and walked with the air of someone keen to prove his worth.
Udalryk was easily recognizable. The eyepatch he wore was a stark reminder of the ordeal he went through due to the hyme, but today, he carried himself with renewed vigor. Seeing Geralt, his face lit up with a genuine smile, and he quickly approached.
"Witcher," he greeted, extending a hand. "I owe you a great debt, one I can never fully repay."
Geralt shook his hand firmly, "It's good to see you doing well, Udalryk."
Before they could continue, Udalryk's gaze shifted to the Riders of Berk, particularly their dragon mounts. His eyes widened in awe. "By the gods," he murmured, "such magnificent creatures." The dragons, bathed in the shimmer of Smaug's scales and adorned with dragon bone armor, truly were a sight to behold.
Hiccup stepped forward, introducing himself and the other riders. The Skelligers, despite their warrior reputation, seemed almost childlike in their wonderment at the dragons. They whispered amongst themselves, tales of the Riders of Berk spreading like wildfire.
Cerys, sensing the need to bring order, clapped her hands. "Let us begin," she announced. "We have much to discuss."
…
The great hall of Skellige was abuzz with discussions, laughter, and the low growls of dragons that echoed from the distance. The meetings had been an unmitigated success. The mere presence of the riders of Berk, alongside their majestic dragon companions, had ensured that the jarls hung onto their every word.
The bond between Hiccup's group, Cerys, and Hjalmar was evident, and it lent a special charm to the proceedings, one that filled the space with a sense of camaraderie and genuine respect. As the sun dipped lower, casting the room in warm, orange hues, Hiccup stood up, drawing the attention of all present.
"There's one final matter to address," he began, his voice echoing in the hall. "In our world, we've been graced with allies both legendary and divine. From that realm, the gods of Asgard have bequeathed gifts for each jarl here."
From behind a large curtain, Astrid and the other riders began presenting ornate boxes, each one radiating an aura of power and majesty.
Jarl Erik stepped forward and opened his box to reveal a magnificent double-edged axe. Its hilt sparkled with sapphires. "This is not just an axe," Hiccup explained. "Its blade carries runes that boost its power in battle. Wield it, and you wield the fury of the seas of Skellige."
Jarl Udalryk, with an intrigued expression, opened his gift to find a beautifully crafted compass. It glowed gently, emitting a soft, guiding light. "For you," Hiccup said, nodding towards Udalryk, "a beacon. No matter where you are, in the darkest caves or stormiest seas, this compass will light your path and guide you home."
Jarl Donar, an Hindar, a melodious sound rang out as he revealed a silver horn. "When blown, this horn channels the might of Skellige warriors. It's said to even summon the very winds," Hiccup elaborated with a smile.
Jarl Holger Blackhand unsheathed a blade that seemed to dance with the colors of the aurora. "This sword," Hiccup began, "is more than just metal. It channels the energy of the northern lights, turning every swing into a celestial dance."
Lastly, Jarl Tante Inis looked in wonder at a circlet that shimmered with the beauty of the elements. "Each metal in this circlet represents an element of the world that's become our home. It's said that the gem at its center aligns itself with the spirit of its wearer," Hiccup explained, his voice filled with reverence.
A palpable sense of wonder and gratitude filled the room. The gifts, bearing the magic and craftsmanship of Asgard, not only represented respect but also the budding promise of an alliance.
Cerys, her voice filled with emotion, stepped forward. "These gifts, and this day, will forever be etched in the history of Skellige. We're bound by promise, unity, and strength. Thank you.
…
The feast in the great hall was a sight to behold. Long wooden tables laden with roasted meats, fresh breads, and goblets of the most fragrant mead spread out as far as the eye could see. Skelliger bards struck up lively tunes, and soon the hall echoed with the sounds of merriment. Hiccup, alongside the riders of Berk, found themselves swapping stories with the jarls, while dragons loomed overhead, eyeing the food with keen interest.
Geralt engaged in a light-hearted arm wrestling match with Hjalmar, drawing hoots and cheers from onlookers. Astrid and Cerys found themselves in a dance, their movements elegant and full of grace. Toothless, ever the charmer, managed to coax a few children into giving him tidbits, his large eyes twinkling with mischief.
Amid the laughter and camaraderie, there was a sudden commotion at the entrance. A breathless guard, armor clinking, rushed in. "My queen!" he panted, addressing Cerys. "There's... something at the shore. It just... appeared."
The room grew quiet. Hiccup, Geralt, and a few others exchanged glances. This had the markings of another conjunction event. Without a word, the group, armed and alert, made their way out of the hall and towards the docks.
The night was clear, the moon illuminating the village and the shores beyond. As they approached the docks, they saw it. The being was massive, standing erect with a crystalline structure that reflected the moon's glow. It seemed made entirely of ice shards, with jagged, fractured surfaces that gave it a humanoid shape. Chained to a massive boulder, it remained motionless, its very presence an enigma.
Cerys, her hand on the hilt of her sword, whispered, "By the gods... what is this creature?"
Erméan, the druid, stepped forward, his eyes locked onto the icy figure. "This is no creature of our world," he murmured. "It's like... a living prism."
Vernon Roche, always one for caution, said, "Whatever it is, we should be careful. This could be a trap, a lure to get us out here."
Hiccup, his voice thoughtful, replied, "Or it could be lost, like we were when we first came through a portal."
As the group debated, the icy creature started to emit a soft, melodic hum. It was hauntingly beautiful, yet it carried an undertone of sadness. The sound resonated, vibrating through the air and the waters around.
Toothless, sensing the creature's distress, let out a low growl, his eyes fixed on it.
Geralt, always perceptive, remarked, "It's communicating. Trying to... reach out."
And then, with a suddenness that took everyone by surprise, the being's surface began to crack, small fissures radiating outward. It was as if the very act of reaching out, of trying to communicate, was causing it to fragment.
The group took a collective step back, uncertainty and tension palpable in the air. This encounter, under the moonlit skies of Skellige, was the beginning of something much larger than they could fathom.
Geralt's eyes narrowed, focusing on the chains that bound the creature. They were forged with an intricate design that Geralt knew all too well, from a dark realm. The markings on the boulder, too, were familiar. They bore a striking resemblance to symbols he had come across in ancient texts from Nirn, speaking of elemental creatures hailing from that realm.
His gaze shifted back to the chains, and he took a step closer, his Witcher senses tingling with a dangerous recognition. The pattern... it was unmistakably Black Speech. A dread filled him as memories of a dark tower and a land filled with shadowy creatures they've encountered flashed before his eyes. The chains glowed faintly, reminiscent of the cold light that emanated from the Rings of Power.
"It's a frost atronach," Geralt said slowly, keeping his voice steady. "From Nirn. But these chains... they're from Mordor. Sauron's handiwork."
A gasp went through the assembled group. The implications were dire. It was well-known among the many universes that Sauron's ambitions knew no bounds. To have ensnared a creature from another realm and used the very essence of his dark power to bind it spoke volumes about his reach and intent.
Hiccup, staring at the chains, said, "But why? Why bring it here? And why now?"
Astrid, ever pragmatic, responded, "Maybe as a message? A demonstration of his power?"
Eskel, another of Geralt's Witcher brethren, chimed in, "Or a trap. Sauron's cunning knows no bounds."
Geralt took another step toward the atronach, his sword ready, but his eyes full of compassion. The creature was a victim, wrenched from its home and bound by an unspeakable evil.
"Or it could have been his prisoner, till the conjunction brought it here?" Geralt suggested.
Hiccup looked at Geralt, and with a determined expression, said, "Let's call in Sheogorath. If anyone can figure out the wild magics of Nirn, it's him."
"And Thrudd," Geralt added, "If her father's hammer can break the Rings of Power, it may very well break those chains."
Hiccup quickly pulled out his communicator, linking him directly to Kroako. He explained the situation in brief, asking for their assistance.
…
Less than three minutes later…
The skies above them darkened momentarily before a swirling portal opened. From it, Thrudd emerged first, her massive hammer slung across her back. Following her was Sheogorath, the Prince of Madness himself, looking as unpredictable as ever with his wide eyes and wild attire. Behind them, the familiar figures of Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas stepped out, each taking in the scene with a mixture of concern and determination.
Eskel, without wasting any time, approached the newly arrived group, quickly filling them in on the details.
Aragorn, ever the keen-eyed ranger, examined the atronach from a distance, his eyes narrowing in thought. Legolas and Gimli exchanged glances, both familiar with the implications of Black Speech and the dark powers it signified.
Sheogorath, leaning on his cane, chuckled. "Well, isn't this a fine pickle? A creature from my lovely Nirn, bound in chains from Mordor? How delightfully chaotic!"
Gandalf approached the creature slowly, his staff glowing gently. "This is dark magic," he whispered. "We must proceed with caution."
Thrudd stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the glowing chains. "Let me try," she said with a determined tone. Swinging her father's mighty hammer, she approached the atronach, preparing to unleash the power contained within the hammer upon the cursed bindings.
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see if the combination of might, magic, and madness would be enough to free the suffering creature from its chains.
Thrudd approached the bound atronach with determination in her eyes. Raising her hammer high, she struck the chain with all her might. The sound of the impact echoed throughout the area, causing nearby birds to scatter in fright. A small crack appeared on the chain, but it did not break.
Everyone watched in bated breath. It was well-known that Thrudd's father's hammer had once shattered a Ring of Power with a single blow. The fact that these chains were resisting was testament to their dark and potent enchantment.
Thrudd, undeterred, readied herself for another strike. Again, the hammer met the chain, causing another echoing clang. A second crack appeared, joining the first, but still, the chain held.
Onlookers could see beads of sweat forming on Thrudd's forehead, her determination never wavering. She took a deep breath and then struck again. And then again. With each blow, the chain cracked a little more, but remained stubbornly intact.
By the time she prepared for her fifth strike, the tension was palpable. The area was eerily silent save for the soft murmurs of the sea in the distance.
With a battle cry, Thrudd brought down her hammer for the fifth time. There was a blinding flash of light, followed by a deafening boom. When the dust settled, the chain lay broken at her feet.
The assembly let out a collective sigh of relief, but the realization quickly dawned on them all: it took five strikes to break just one chain. The sheer resilience of the dark enchantment was deeply concerning.
Thrudd sank to her knees, her breathing heavy. The physical and emotional exertion of breaking the chain was evident in the sheen of sweat on her brow and the redness of her face. Several people rushed forward with waterskins, offering her a drink.
Gandalf, holding a staff in one hand, crouched to examine the broken link. His fingers traced the jagged edges, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, familiar with the threat of Sauron, joined him, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on their faces.
"This isn't just an ordinary chain," Gandalf muttered, holding the broken link up to the light. "The Black Speech has been refined. Strengthened. It's as if... as if he's learning from his past mistakes."
Legolas looked grim. "If he's improving his dark craft, that's a troubling thought. We've seen his Uruk-hai, emerging from the mud fully armored and ready for battle."
Gimli nodded, "And those rings. He's distributing them like they're mere trinkets."
Aragorn, ever the leader, tightened his grip on his sword. "Sauron's ambition and power know no end. He's adapting, evolving. We must be prepared for what's to come."
Gandalf's eyes were troubled. "The fact that he can enchant these chains to such a degree… it's a dark omen."
The assembly watched in silence as Thrudd regained her strength, pulling herself back to her feet, determination etched on her face. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next challenge.
With another resounding battle cry, she swung her hammer at the next chain. The force of the first strike caused a mere dent. The second and third deepened the mark. By the fourth and fifth, small cracks began to form. And finally, with a sixth, even mightier strike, the chain shattered, leaving the group in even greater trepidation.
The increasing strength of the chains was clear evidence of Sauron's growing power, and the gathering realized that the battle ahead was going to be even more challenging than they had anticipated.
After the intense ordeal of breaking the previous chains, Thrudd approached the final chain with a fierce determination. But as she swung her father's hammer down with all her might, something changed. The ground reverberated with the impact, yet the chain remained unscathed. She tried again and again, but to no avail.
Thrudd, taken aback, examined the chain more closely. Her fingers ran over the black metal, searching for a weak point, but there was none to be found. To her disbelief, the chain seemed to match the hardness and resilience of her father's legendary hammer.
"This is... impossible," she muttered, her grip on the hammer tightening.
Gandalf approached, leaning down to study the chain's inscriptions. "It seems Sauron has taken his craft to a new level. This is no ordinary enhancement; it's as if he's tailored this chain specifically to counteract the power of your hammer."
A murmur of concern spread among the group. The implications of this were severe. Not only was Sauron evolving in his methods and techniques, but he was also anticipating their moves and countering them.
Sheogorath, always unpredictable in his actions, squinted at the chain. "Perhaps we're not thinking creatively enough," he mused. "If brute force isn't working, perhaps a different approach is required."
Thrudd took a moment, processing Sheogorath's words. An idea began to form in her mind, and she straightened up. "I need a chisel," she announced to the group.
A minute later a Skelliger warrior, with tattoos marking his arms and a look of curiosity on his face, stepped forward, offering her a well-worn but sharp chisel. "Will this do?" he asked.
"It should," she replied, taking the chisel and examining the point where the chain was embedded into the rock. Rather than attacking the chain directly, she decided to focus on its anchor point.
Holding the chisel against the stone, right where the chain met the rock, she took a deep breath. With a precise and controlled force, she struck the chisel with her father's hammer. Sparks flew, and a small crack appeared in the rock.
She continued to tap, each time with more force and precision, working her way around the circumference of the chain's insertion. The group watched in tense silence, the only sound being the rhythmic tapping of metal on stone.
After what felt like hours, but was only a few minutes, a section of the rock around the chain gave way. With one last forceful blow, the rock fragmented, releasing the chain from its grip.
The atronach, now freed, gave a sigh of relief. Its icy form shimmered in gratitude as it could finally move around.
Thrudd, exhausted but triumphant, handed the chisel back to the Skelliger. "Sometimes," she said with a tired smile, "it's not about breaking the unbreakable, but finding a way around it."
…
A few minutes later…
The scene at the dock was a somber tone. The atronach, now free from its chains, stood tall and silent, its icy form shimmering under the moonlight. All the chains lay discarded at its feet, bearing testament to the arduous task that the group had undergone.
Gandalf crouched next to the final chain; his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He turned the chain over in his hands, examining each link with meticulous care. His fingers traced the eldritch symbols, and occasionally, he would mutter incantations, testing the reactions of the chain.
Eskel approached, watching the wizard's careful inspection. "Find anything?" he inquired.
Gandalf looked up; his expression pensive. "This chain is not just a product of dark magic," he replied. "It's as if it's alive, learning from every attempt we made against it. Every strike, every spell – it adapted."
Thrudd, rubbing her hands to soothe the blisters from her efforts, nodded in agreement. "It's like it was designed to counter the very essence of my father's hammer. If Sauron can craft more of these, or worse, instill this adaptive nature into his armies or their weapons and armor..."
Astrid finished the thought, "We'd be facing an enemy that learns from every move we make."
Gandalf stood, dusting off his robes. "We've seen a glimpse of what we are up against. This chain represents a level of craftsmanship and dark sorcery that is beyond anything we've previously encountered from Mordor."
He gazed into the distance, his thoughts seemingly miles away. "We must prepare, gather allies, and pool our knowledge. If we are to stand a chance, we'll need every advantage we can muster."
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on everyone present. As the atronach slowly began to move, its form shifting and changing, it was evident that this night's discoveries were just the beginning of a much larger, more ominous journey.
…
In a sprawling chamber within the heart of Kroako, a council of some of the most formidable minds and powers from across realities gathered around a long, ornate table. At its center lay the three chains, their dark essence a stark contrast to the illuminated surroundings.
Beast, with his scientific prowess, carefully examined the chains under a microscope, noting the arcane patterns that seemed to writhe and change. Beside him, Magneto hovered his hand over one chain, testing its resistance to his metal-manipulating powers. The chain moved slightly, confirming his control over it, but its strength was evident.
"In all my years," began Batman from the Injustice universe, his gravelly voice echoing through the room, "I've never seen anything quite like this. It's as if it's designed to withstand any force or power exerted against it."
The other Batman from the Justice League nodded in agreement. "It's adaptive, resilient, and clearly a product of highly advanced dark magic and technology. Even our tech at the Justice League HQ hasn't seen anything like this."
Superman, with his X-ray vision, tried to peer into the very structure of the chain, but even his god-like abilities couldn't fully decipher its composition. "It's multi-layered," he observed. "Multiple layers and magic weaved together."
Tony Stark, with his holographic displays, showcased the stress tests they had conducted. "Normal procedures won't even scratch it. We had to use a pure adamantium grinder, and even then, it took three full rotations to break it down."
Thor, with Mjölnir by his side, commented, "I've battled foes wielding dark artifacts, but this craftsmanship is unparalleled."
Dr. Strange, his eyes glowing with a mystical light, attempted various spells to counteract the chain's effects. However, even his powerful sorcery had minimal impact.
Freya, the powerful witch from the same universe as Atreus and Kratos, alongside Mimir, the wisest being, contributed their insights into the potential magic and curses involved.
It was Lego Batman, in his usual dramatic flair, who broke the tense atmosphere. "Well, if there's one thing I've learned from building and rebuilding my Batmobile countless times, it's that every problem has a solution!" He declared, holding up a tiny Lego version of the chain.
While some rolled their eyes at the humorous comment, the sentiment was appreciated.
…
Ten minutes later… after the 7th time trying to shatter the chain with the adamantium grinder, which was reinforced with magic.
The chain finally shattered with a, CRASH! And a, SHATTER! Sending shard shaped pieces falling into the container in front of it.
The council, having witnessed the adamantium grinder's ability to shatter the chain with a mix of brute mechanical force and magic, knew they were on to something. The shards of the broken chain lay scattered across the floor, their once-menacing presence now diminished.
Tony Stark, always one to think ahead, knelt and picked up a shard, examining it closely. The dark inscriptions that had once marred its surface were now gone, leaving behind a silvery, gleaming metal. He held it up, light refracting off its surface. "You know, with the Black Speech gone from these shards, we might have just stumbled upon a unique opportunity."
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each member present. "We melt these down, and with the combined might of our magics and tech, we could forge a weapon or tool that's specifically designed to break these chains if, or rather when, we encounter them again."
Gandalf stepped forward, his staff in hand. "A good thought, Stark. The chain's inherent resilience, combined with our enchantments, could prove invaluable."
Thor nodded in agreement. "A weapon imbued with the essence of multiple realms and magic. It would be a force to be reckoned with."
Batman, ever the strategist, added, "Not just a weapon. We could design multiple tools, devices, even armor using this material."
Dr. Strange, his cloak fluttering slightly, conjured an image of the chain in its original form. "We need to be careful, though. The chain might be broken, but it's essential to ensure no trace of the original curse remains when repurposing it."
Lego Batman piped up, "Oh, I can think of a dozen or so gadgets I could make with this! Imagine the Batwing with a hint of 'Chain-chic' style!"
Tony chuckled, "Always the showman, huh? But he's got a point. The potential is vast."
Beast, peering over his microscope, pointed out, "Before we proceed, we'll need to analyze the properties of these shards in detail. Understand their molecular structure, potential weaknesses, and how best to harness their strengths."
Magneto, intrigued by the shards' magnetic properties, commented, "They're unique. Unlike any metal I've encountered before. This will be a project worth diving into."
The room was alive with an almost tangible energy as the brightest minds of various universes assembled together. The shards, once tainted by Sauron's malevolence, now shone brilliantly, their potential recognized by all present.
After ensuring that Sauron's presence is gone from the shards, which it was… they decided to get to work.
Gandalf, his eyes sharp with focus, approached with his White Staff. They melted down a fragment of the chain, and as they merged it with his staff, it transformed before their very eyes. The staff now sported a radiant silvery sheen, its aura strengthened. Gandalf felt a distinct change when he gripped it - the ever-present weight of the Ring of Fire on his hand seemed to dissipate. The shard, it seemed, had balanced out the power of both the ring and the staff. He waved it, the staff moving with a newfound fluidity.
Next, Kratos stepped forward, holding his Leviathan Axe. Already a weapon of significant power, with the integration of the shard, the axe looked even more formidable. Enigmatic inscriptions shimmered along its blade, and it seemed as though the axe and the shard were two parts of a predestined whole.
Thrudd, daughter of Thor, approached with a sense of determination, presenting her father's legendary hammer, Mjölnir. As the shard was molded and integrated into the weapon, it pulsed with an increased potency. The hammer, already powerful, now held an augmented force, its surface etched with gleaming patterns that made it look even more divine.
Geralt offered his two distinguished swords - one from von Everec's and Aerondight. Upon their union with the shard, the blades gleamed with enhanced sharpness, their steely surfaces reflecting an ethereal resilience. The Witcher expertly tested their new balance, nodding with satisfaction.
Lastly, Hiccup, his face a mask of hope, presented his specially crafted sword, a blend of magic, expertise, and psychic prowess from Avallac'h, Trollololo, and Mewtwo. As Gandalf carefully inscribed a rune in ancient speech, the sword absorbed the shard, humming in response. When the luminescence dimmed, Hiccup could sense its drastically enhanced power, and he was awestruck to see its new level: 'Level 180'.
Gandalf, looking at the revamped weapons, said thoughtfully, "It seems the shards amplify the inherent properties of these weapons, elevating their power tremendously."
Superman, with a glint in his eye, added, "With such enhancements, we're more fortified against any looming threats."
Tony Stark, ever the visionary, chimed in, "I should consider incorporating some of this into the Iron Man suit. Level 180 sounds tantalizing."
Batman stepped forward, his signature brooding intensity pronounced as he spread a series of slides and micrographs on a work table. The room's discussions and chatter quieted as all eyes turned towards him.
"This isn't just metal," he began, his deep voice capturing the room's attention. "It has a unique crystalline structure, something I've not encountered in any known alloy or metal from our collective universes. I've conducted preliminary tests, and it seems that under the right conditions, we can grow more of it."
The room went abuzz with intrigued murmurs. The idea of growing metal, especially one with such prodigious properties, was groundbreaking.
Tony Stark leaned in, his interest clearly piqued. "Are you suggesting we can cultivate this, much like we do with certain crystals?"
Batman nodded, "Precisely. Once bound by Sauron's influence, the metal's natural properties were suppressed. Now that it's free, its crystalline nature is revealed. Given the right conditions—temperature, pressure, and environment—it should be possible to reproduce it."
Dr. Strange, stroking his beard thoughtfully, added, "With magic and technology combined, we might be able to expedite the growth process."
Freya, her knowledge of ancient enchantments unparalleled, mused aloud, "And with the right spells, we can imbue them with properties beneficial to us."
Thor, grasping Mjölnir firmly, remarked, "A metal that can grow and be enhanced? This could be a turning point in our battles."
Gandalf, always one to see the bigger picture, cautioned, "While this discovery holds great promise, we must ensure its power does not fall into the wrong hands. We have seen what devastation can be wrought when such power is misused."
Batman agreed, his eyes determined. "We keep this within K.R.A.O.K.O. Until we fully understand its capabilities and limitations, it remains our secret."
The room echoed with nods of agreement. The discovery of the metal's potential not only bolstered their defenses but also served as a beacon of innovation, a testament to what they could achieve together.
Gandalf, always one to see the bigger picture, cautioned, "While this discovery holds great promise, we must ensure its power does not fall into the wrong hands. We have seen what devastation can be wrought when such power is misused."
Batman's lifted his gaze, meeting Gandalf's eyes. "Which is why I suggest we keep this information confined not just within Kroako but also extend it to our trusted allies, like Nick Fury. If Sauron weaponizes the same metal, having this knowledge might just provide the edge we desperately need."
A momentary pause filled the room before Batman continued, a gravity in his tone that demanded undivided attention, "There's more. In my analysis, I've found something... unexpected. This metal, it shares characteristics with the metal used to forge the Rings of Power. It's like a more refined form of mithril, devoid of the microscopic impurities which made the latter vulnerable."
Gandalf's eyebrows furrowed deeply, a wave of realization washing over him. "So, what you're suggesting is that Sauron might have been refining mithril, trying to perfect it? Creating a substance that could be used to bind other realms and powers to his will?"
Batman simply nodded, the weight of their discovery sinking in.
Aragorn, understanding the gravity of the situation, stated, "This means the stakes have been raised even higher. This metal isn't just an improvement; it's a game-changer."
Legolas, always attuned to the deeper connections of Middle Earth, added, "The ancient elves spoke of mithril as the 'true silver.' If this metal is an evolution of that, its power could be unparalleled."
Batman agreed, "Which is why it's crucial we understand this new substance better, harness its potential for good, and ensure it remains out of Sauron's grasp."
…
Later…
The trio of Gandalf, Legolas, and Aragorn found Gimli and Talion in the dining area, both engaged in examining their respective weapons. The dwarf's affinity for anything made of metal was well-known, and Talion, with his experience of facing Sauron's forces firsthand, was always on the lookout for ways to upgrade his arsenal.
"Gimli, Talion," Legolas began, his tone serious yet tinged with an underlying excitement. "We've learned something about the metal from the chains that bound the frost atronach."
Gimli looked up, his bushy eyebrows raising in curiosity. "What's there to learn? Just another one of Sauron's tricks, I'd wager."
Gandalf cleared his throat and stepped forward, his newly enhanced staff catching the light, giving it a silvery sheen. "Not just a trick, my friend. This metal, it's a refined form of mithril. And from what we've gathered, we can grow it."
Talion, usually stoic and reserved, looked surprised, but it was Gimli's reaction that stole the show. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he had been struck by one of his own axes. The dwarf, who had seen the mines of Moria and understood the value and rarity of mithril, was speechless.
Legolas, trying to suppress a grin, nudged the dwarf. "Breathe, Gimli."
Aragorn, with a chuckle, added, "I've never seen you at a loss for words before."
Gimli shook his head, trying to collect himself. "I've dreamt of mountains of mithril, but to think that we could grow it... and a purer form at that! By Mahal's beard!"
Talion, ever the pragmatist, asked, "How can we use this to our advantage?"
Gandalf leaned on his staff; its newfound gleam evident. "With this, we can enhance our weapons, armor, and artifacts. We're yet to uncover the full potential of this metal, but it's clear that it will play a pivotal role in our fight against Sauron and his forces."
Gimli, finally finding his voice, said with fervor, "Then let us get to work. There's no time to waste!"
…
The training area of Kroako was abuzz with activity. A makeshift arena was set up, with a series of alchemical stations on one side. Geralt, Letho, Eskel, and Lambert worked diligently, carefully measuring and mixing ingredients. Their focus was on a particular silvery liquid that shimmered under the midday sun: the mithril potion.
Batch one was ready, its contents glowing with an almost ethereal light. Batch two, still in development, lay in wait.
Yennefer stood at the edge of the training area, her raven hair billowing softly in the wind. Their daughter clung to her, watching the proceedings with wide eyes, her face a mix of fascination and apprehension. Geralt's son, a young lad with the same ash-white hair of his father, stood close by, excitement evident on his face. Ciri was not far from them, her daughter Seren snuggled in her arms. The love between Ciri and Logan-2 was evident, their unity offering warmth and support.
Gandalf, Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, and Talion took up positions opposite Geralt, their faces solemn but eyes full of curiosity.
With a nod from Yennefer, Geralt uncorked the vial of the mithril potion and drank it. Almost immediately, a metallic sheen spread over his skin, armor, and clothing. It was as if he was enveloped in a protective layer of liquid mithril. He blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden transformation, but then flexed his fingers, examining the glinting metal that now covered them.
Giving a confident thumbs up, he signaled the beginning of the test.
From the far end of the arena, with a ground-shaking thud, the simulated olog came charging. It was a monstrous creature: half uruk, half troll. Its intent was clear - to strike Geralt with all its might.
As the olog neared, it lunged, delivering a powerful punch that would have easily crushed any ordinary man. The impact sent Geralt skidding back, creating a small trench in the ground, but the Witcher was unfazed. As he steadily rose, there wasn't a scratch on him. The mithril protection had worked marvelously.
The olog, however, was not so lucky. Clutching its fist, it let out a pained roar. The creature's hand was visibly swollen, its knuckles bleeding.
Gimli let out a hearty laugh. "That's one way to give an Olog a lesson!"
Geralt, marveling at the potion's effect, called out, "Feels like I'm wearing a full suit of armor, yet I'm as light and agile as ever."
Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Remarkable. Sauron's chains, once a symbol of fear, might just be the key to our advantage."
…
A few minutes after Geralt's impressive display, Lambert took center stage. With a wave and a smile directed towards Kira and their toddler son, Kasper, he prepared himself for the next test.
Kira, holding their son close, watched with bated breath as Lambert downed the vial containing the second batch of the mithril potion. The effects were near-instantaneous. Lambert's skin, clothes, and armor took on the same brilliant, metallic sheen that Geralt had exhibited moments ago.
From the other side of the arena, a simulated Uruk-hai emerged, its muscular frame radiating menace. The creature roared, brandishing a wicked, jagged sword, the sharp edges glinting menacingly in the sunlight. Without hesitation, it lunged at Lambert, aiming a vicious slash meant to cleave him in two.
The resulting sound was anything but expected: a strange, metallic splat. The Uruk-hai's blade had embedded itself in Lambert's chest, yet Lambert stood there, almost casual, looking down at the weapon with a bemused expression.
Kira gasped, clutching Kasper tightly. But her fears were quickly alleviated as Lambert seemed entirely unaffected. The Uruk-hai, on the other hand, appeared both surprised and frustrated. With a grunt, it tried to pull the sword free, but the blade was lodged firmly within the metallic layer that now covered Lambert.
Taking advantage of the Uruk-hai's momentary confusion, Lambert calmly grabbed the creature's wrist, bending it backward with surprising ease. The Uruk-hai let out a painful grunt, dropping its weapon.
Lambert, ever the prankster, couldn't resist a quip. "Looks like you've lost your edge," he smirked.
Gandalf, observing the scene, nodded thoughtfully. "The second batch appears to have a more viscous property, adapting on impact. Fascinating."
Eskel chuckled, "Well, that's one way to disarm your enemy."
The onlookers erupted into laughter, relief in the air. The combined efforts of magic, alchemy, and technology were proving to be a formidable defense against the threats they faced.
…
Thrudd eagerly stepped up, the weight of the newly enhanced Mjölnir firm in her grasp. The iconic hammer had always been her pride, a symbol of her lineage and power. But now, with the infusion of the new mithril shards, it felt different—more potent and alive.
Everyone gathered around the testing area, with a specifically designed adamantium block placed at the center. Logan-2 watched with skeptical interest. Adamantium, after all, was known as one of the toughest and most indestructible metals across the universes. Even within his bones, it made him near-invincible.
Thrudd, sizing up the challenge, took a few steps back. With a deep breath, she hurled Mjölnir with all her might at the block. As the hammer collided with the adamantium, a thunderous boom echoed across the area, making everyone flinch. The ground trembled, and a shockwave rippled outwards.
When the dust settled and everyone's hearing returned, they looked in awe at the scene before them. Mjölnir lay beside the adamantium block, unscathed. But what drew gasps from the crowd was the clear, undeniable dent in the adamantium block.
Logan-2's eyes widened in disbelief. He approached the block, running his fingers over the dent. He had experienced many battles, had seen the strength of adamantium firsthand, and yet, this was something he had never witnessed.
Gimli, ever the fan of strong metals and craftsmanship, let out a hearty laugh. "That's a hit for the ages!"
Tony Stark, usually unflappable, looked over his shades, whistling in admiration. "That's one for the science books."
Thrudd, slightly out of breath but with a glint of victory in her eyes, lifted Mjölnir. "I had heard of adamantium but never imagined this."
Gandalf, his blue eyes reflecting deep wisdom, mused aloud, "With every new discovery comes a new challenge. We must always be prepared for the unexpected."
For all those present, this was a moment that would remain etched in their memories. The day when Mjölnir, enhanced by the might of the new mithril, challenged the invincibility of adamantium.
…
The training ground, already abuzz with anticipation, became hushed as spectral Draugrs manifested. These ghostly warriors have haunted the nightmares of countless souls across realms. Now, they were poised against Kratos and his freshly enhanced Leviathan Axe.
With a swing infused with purpose, the axe released a vibrant metallic shimmer. To everyone's astonishment, a spectral version of Kratos rose from that very spot. Now, two Ghosts of Sparta stood side by side, a sight to behold.
The Kratos pair lunged into battle with unparalleled harmony. Their synchronized onslaught was a dance of devastation, leaving the Draugrs disoriented and overwhelmed. Every slash, every parry was mirrored, painting a mesmerizing tableau of martial prowess.
When the last Draugr lay defeated, the spectral Kratos dissolved back into the axe, and the onlookers were left to process the astounding events they had just witnessed.
Freya, deep in thought, mused, "The magic within the axe now mirrors its wielder in battle. An interesting turn."
Mimir chuckled, "By Odin's whiskers! A duo of Kratos. It's not a sight our realms have witnessed before, I assure you."
Atreus, eyes alight with wonder, stated, "Father, that was beyond anything I imagined."
Angrboda, nodding with familiarity, commented, "Spectral figures aren't a new concept amongst us, especially with Atreus doing it frequently. Yet, seeing Kratos summon one still feels... unexpected."
Deimos smirked, playfully jabbing, "Looks like there's another, 'you', in town. I didn't see that coming, brother."
Tyr, ever the tactician, pondered aloud, "A power like this can reshape the very course of a battle. We need to understand it more."
Siph interjected, "Spectral manifestations are known amongst the gods. However, Kratos tapping into such power offers a fresh dimension."
Thrudd, admiration evident in her eyes, remarked, "This changes the playing field. We have much to discuss."
Superman, hovering slightly off the ground with his cape billowing, commented, "I've seen many powers in my time across multiple universes, but this is something truly unique. A very tactical advantage."
Batman, ever the skeptic, stepped forward, eying the axe, "Impressive. Its capabilities seem to rival some of the most potent artifacts I've come across. We need to study this in detail."
Tony Stark, raising an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses, quipped, "Never thought I'd see the day where there'd be two Kratoses. Might need to make a double-sized containment unit, just in case."
Gandalf, stroking his beard, reflected, "The combined power of mithril and Kratos' innate strength has produced something extraordinary. A true union of metal and might."
Dr. Strange, with a glint of curiosity in his eyes, mused, "Such arcane prowess is rarely seen. The realms of magic and metal are intertwined in this weapon."
Thor, twirling Mjölnir playfully, added, "It reminds me of some of the old sagas. A hero and his echo, battling side by side. Well done, Spartan."
Geralt, leaning on his enhanced sword, commented dryly, "Always good to have an extra hand in a fight, even if it's your own."
Magneto, a look of genuine appreciation on his face, noted, "Manipulating metal is my forte, but even I haven't seen such intricate blending of metal and magic."
Lego Batman, with his typical comedic tone, exclaimed, "Whoa! Double the Kratos, double the awesomeness!"
Logan-2, crossing his arms and smirking, remarked, "Not bad, old man. Not bad at all."
…
Hiccup stepped forward, gripping the hilt of his newly enhanced sword with both hands. The blade, now glowing with a mix of silvery luminescence and purplish psychic energy, felt different, more alive. The group waited with bated breath as a snarling warg was brought forth. The menacing creature, with its sharp claws and dripping jaws, lunged towards Hiccup, eyes glowing with malevolence.
But Hiccup's sword had other plans. Sensing imminent danger, the blade unleashed a barrage of metallic spikes, similar to the Pokémon move "Iron Tail," from its surface, causing the warg to halt in its tracks. However, not to be deterred, the warg regrouped and lunged once more.
This time, the sword responded with "Shadow Ball," a powerful ghost-type move. A dark sphere of energy materialized from the blade and shot forward, colliding with the warg, sending it sprawling back.
The creature, now wary, circled Hiccup, growling menacingly. Sensing its hesitation, the sword then took the initiative, releasing a "Flash Cannon," a burst of metallic energy, blinding the creature momentarily.
As the warg shook its head, trying to recover, the sword summoned one last move, "Phantom Force." In a blink, Hiccup seemed to vanish, only to reappear behind the creature, striking it down effortlessly.
The arena went silent for a heartbeat before erupting in astonishment.
Magneto remarked, "A blade with the capabilities of a Pokémon... Impressive synthesis of magic and metallurgy."
Dr. Strange, intrigued, said, "The blending of different world's magic has created something extraordinary. This is beyond any normal enchantment."
Avallac'h, nodding in approval, added, "Our combined knowledge and magic have given birth to a weapon of immense versatility."
Trollolo, with his characteristic deep humming, seemed pleased, "It responds to danger instinctively. Truly a blade befitting a hero."
Mewtwo, communicating telepathically to all present, stated, "The sword is an extension of Hiccup's will and our combined magic. It's more than just a weapon; it's a partner."
Gandalf, smiling at Hiccup, said, "Young master Hiccup, you wield a blade that many in Middle Earth would deem legendary."
Hiccup, with a mix of surprise and pride, responded, "I had a feeling it was special, but this... this is something else." He looked at his blade in wonder, the new possibilities running through his mind.
The other riders of Berk, who had been standing together at the edge of the arena, were a mix of astonishment and pride. Astrid stepped forward, her eyes wide, "Hiccup... that was... amazing! That sword is... I have no words."
Snotlout, who often liked to rib Hiccup, was genuinely impressed. "Well, look at you, Hiccup! All fancy with your magical blade!"
Fishlegs, ever the enthusiast of new discoveries, was practically bouncing in his spot, "The synthesis of different magical realms into a singular weapon! Oh, the historical implications of this! It's unparalleled!"
Ruffnut and Tuffnut exchanged looks of amazement before Tuffnut said, "Okay, that was cool. But can it make sandwiches?"
Ruffnut elbowed him, "Not the time, Tuff!"
Meanwhile, the Pokémon present had their own unique reactions.
Pikachu's cheeks sparked with excitement. "Pika! Pika!" It seemed to express its admiration and maybe a tiny bit of envy at the blade's prowess.
Jigglypuff, wide-eyed, started to sing a short celebratory note, before realizing this might not be the best time to put everyone to sleep.
Psyduck, as always, seemed a bit overwhelmed, holding its head in confusion. But even it couldn't deny the awe of the moment, giving a low, impressed "Psy-y-y."
…
Glistening under the ambient lights of the arena, Geralt's blade from von Everec had always had an otherworldly sheen. Now, enhanced with the new rune, it had taken on an ethereal glow, shifting between light and shadow. The metallic surface shimmered, reflecting the dichotomy of the forces bound within.
Ivan von Everec, from his vantage point, leaned forward with interest. His bond with the blade was unique, given its origin. His brother, next to Shani, munched thoughtfully on his jerky, equally engrossed in the demonstration. Odimm, the enigmatic Master Mirror, observed with a calculating gaze. "Hmm... The balance between light and dark," he murmured, almost to himself. "Intriguing. The equilibrium of powers is not something easily attained."
As the creature from Middle Earth, a heavily armored Uruk-hai, emerged into the arena, the atmosphere grew tense. The Uruk-hai's dark armor was known to be virtually impenetrable, but Geralt was ready.
With a swift, precise motion, Geralt struck. The blade didn't just cut; it shone with a brilliant luminescence as it connected, similar to Bilbo's sword, Sting, when Orcs were near. The Uruk-hai, taken aback by the intensity of the light, faltered momentarily, allowing Geralt another swipe. This time, the blade easily seared through the Uruk-hai's thick armor, leaving a glowing gash. Within moments, the creature was defeated.
From the sidelines, Gandalf raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "That blade," he remarked, "it has a semblance to Sting. But there's something more... profound about it."
Aragorn nodded, his keen eyes studying the blade. "It balances out the darkness within, much like Andúril's flame against the shadow."
Legolas, with his elven insight, added, "There is a harmony in that weapon, a unity of opposing forces."
Gimli grunted appreciatively, "Well, whatever it is, it cuts through armor like a hot knife through butter! A fine blade indeed."
With the Uruk-hai dispatched, Geralt took a moment to recompose himself. Then, with deliberate grace, he sheathed his blade from von Everec and drew forth another weapon – the radiant, sapphire-hued blade of Aerondight, a gift from the enigmatic Lady of the Lake in Toussaint.
The blade itself was a masterpiece, its surface shimmering like the surface of a placid lake under the noonday sun. Every swing and every parry made it hum with an energy that was both ethereal and formidable. The sword bore the essence of water and the blessings of the Lady, a powerful combination.
The ground rumbled, and from the opposite end of the arena, a massive Cave Troll from Middle Earth appeared, its skin tough and leathery, eyes burning with rage. With a roar, it charged towards Geralt, mace raised, ready to crush him.
Geralt, with a fluidity that belied his age, moved gracefully, sidestepping the initial charge. As the troll swung its mace, Geralt met the attack with Aerondight. Upon contact, instead of the expected clash of metal against flesh, a torrential surge of water erupted from the blade. It engulfed the troll, lifting it off its feet and hurling it with immense force. The Cave Troll, taken by complete surprise, was propelled across the arena, crashing into the far wall with a deafening thud. It slumped to the ground, dazed and defeated.
The arena went silent for a moment, the sheer power of Aerondight leaving many in awe.
"That wasn't just a sword strike," Legolas whispered to Aragorn, his elven eyes wide. "That was a force of nature."
Gimli, always one for dramatics, added, "By Durin's beard! That was like watching a dam burst!"
Gandalf, stroking his beard thoughtfully, mused, "The Lady's blessing is not just symbolic. The essence of the very lakes of Toussaint resides in that blade."
As the murmurs of appreciation spread, Geralt gave Aerondight an appreciative look, once again reminded of the depth of its power and the mysteries of the waters it was tied to.
…
The night had fallen over Kroako, casting a serene blanket of stars across the vast expanse of the sky. Inside the compound, as most of the residents had retired to their quarters for some well-deserved rest, an unexpected event was unfolding.
Firestar, a radiant figure from timeline-3, suddenly felt the unmistakable signs of labor. The time had come. Tyr, with alertness and concern etched on his features, quickly escorted her to the infirmary. There, with the help of skilled healers and midwives from different realms, Firestar began the arduous process of childbirth.
Hours felt like minutes, and soon a soft cry pierced the quiet of the night. The infant's voice was a testament to a new life, a beacon of hope in a complex web of realities.
Tyr, having waited anxiously outside, was gently ushered in by a healer. "You may come in now," she whispered, a smile touching her lips.
Entering the dimly lit room, Tyr's eyes met those of Firestar's. She was exhausted but looked radiant, cradling a small bundle in her arms. Approaching the bedside, Tyr gazed down at the tiny face peeking out from the swaddling cloth. A pair of bright eyes stared back, full of innocence and wonder.
"Meet our daughter, Lysandra," Firestar whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
The name Lysandra, meaning 'liberator,' seemed fitting for a child born amidst heroes and champions from different realms.
Tyr, overwhelmed with emotion, gently placed a finger in the infant's tiny palm. Lysandra gripped it with surprising strength, her little fingers wrapping around his in a tender hold. It was a simple gesture, yet it signified the beginning of a profound bond between father and daughter.