Date: Mörsugur 16th, 999. (Alt: 29th Dec, 999 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
'Young' Heath shifted his obscured head towards the ships that aimed their shulker cannons towards him, and he raised his hand to control a downward swipe of magical current.
What would have led to dissassembling them was instead met with a long claw swipe, blocking his spell. His head snapped towards Jean, ignoring the bullets that were hitting his magic exterior. They stared at each other before a single utterance was heard.
".ᒣ╎ ▭ ᒷᕊ ▭ ᒍϟ (So be it.)" The Dragon spoke. 'Young' Heath scampered and instead focused on the obsidian spires that housed the crystals. He ripped the nearest pillar into shards, its entire structure collapsing, and the cursed liquid that was once in it gushed out in puddles that leaked off the floating island. He felt danger at that point and looked towards Jean's original location, but she was not there. Heath turned around. *KRR-BOOOOOM* She had waited until he did so to then palm-slap him across the island with tremendous force.
The shockwave could be heard throughout, and the closest enderman had their earholes burst. He bounced multiple times, digging through the stone until coming to a stop. He had stayed awake throughout this and immediately sprang back into action.
He noticed he was closest to another pillar and hid behind it to regather more magic, but it was too little time, 'Young' Heath reacted in time for a small portal that was shifting in space where Jean's claw attack was accelerated from her own hand's position. It was like a surgical scalpel to a corpses' flesh, easily tearing through the obsidian and shattering it over Heath. He flew up and away while collecting the powder and shards of obsidian to orbit around him like the shulker bullets previously, while Ducking and weaving from ship and dragon attacks.
'Young' Heath blitzed through the air now towards the ships, angered beyond recognition. He went faster than he ever had previously while acting like a laser-guided missile towards his nearest target. He SLAMMED into it with the obsidian sphere quickly chipping through.
He went straight to what powered its flight, a collected shulker bullet engine, destroying it and causing it to crash into the ground in a few moments. He went through the opposite side of where he entered and repeated until all ships were down. He used his magic to guide them to a near-gentle landing to minimise casualties while dodging, keeping absolute concentration and leading to his irritation with the situation to be further increased. Once they landed, he careened himself towards Jean, ready for a concentrated melee.
"ReaaaAAA A A A A A A-" Heath screamed into the aether while launching both Obsidian powder and shards into the dragon's orifices and shards through its weaker spots such as the inner joints and groin, cheap shots but absolutely necessary in a life or death battle.
"A A A A-" He turned into a mosquito, zipping around the dragon while landing any and every shot he could, he used his trident multiple times, launching it towards her arms and legs to remove her mode of attack. And while his trident would get out of the wound to return to him through Loyalty, he would strike a previously made wound with his axe, creating great, serrated wounds that oozed a blackish blood that would cauterise itself after a few seconds when in contact with the air. He was about to strike her neck when-
*RUMBLE, then a THUNDEROUS CRY* Jean gave a tumultuous roar that created a physical shockwave which spread out throughout the island, knocking over the partially shattered obsidian pillar and flinging many endermen off into the endless void below.
The pillar crashed down, cracking a part of the island and splitting it in two. Wait, it WAS REACHING THE- *CRACK, then SHATTER.* The illusion made it so that the walls and glass of the building turned invisible, having a direct view of the battle from a safe vantage point. Many spectators covered their mouths and gave gasps, one or two even quickly glancing at the real Heath before turning back, and it became even crazier. 'Young' Heath regrouped the obsidian and started shooting it towards Jean in bursts of scatter shot.
She used her hands within moving portals that moved vertically to quickly sweep through them, but she was not fast enough, many dug their way through her underbelly, where her less-tough scales were shredded through like tugging a wet tissue paper.
That same blood flowed from under her, clumping and clotting on the floor, unable to keep itself onto the fresh wounds below. Yet Jean acted just as, if not even more ferocious than before. She teleports herself away and flies at the same time, now near-invisible, and further than what Heath could reach without teleporting. She began melding her power into elongated streams of violet coloured, cracked, hyper-volatile beams that were magically enhanced to explode upon 'Young' Heath. Their power a desperate final line of defence.
"A A A A-" 'Young' Heath's scream was now a garbled mess through his rage, yet he dodged the first two guided beams, almost predicting where she would aim them. Now that he had gotten closer to the dragon, he got his axe ready to deliver a closing exsanguination.
He was ready to strike true until the sudden beam hit through his magic layer, now decimating his body, vaporising the bottom of his left arm and part of his torso. Launching him skyward where he appeared unconscious to Jean. She smirked, believing that that would have knocked him out for the delivery of a final strike, she was readying her final beam before Heath zagged away and aimed to deliver a vertical swing that gave all of his leftover power. "A A A A A A A A A-" The more verbose yelling startled her enough for it to work.
*CHOUNK* The axe went through her neck, a straight cleave that separated her arteries and all the way through to her trachea. The partially prepared magic beam exploded in her mouth due to her lost concentration from the pain, causing it to explode within.
Jean was launched into the ground, cratering its surroundings and leaving her on her deathbed. Heath got off her wing and called his axe with the help of the same Loyalty enchantment, leaving soon-to-be festering wounds upon her form. He slowly floats towards her, showing the mental load it has had on him, the missing limb and partially destroyed torso is being healed with his magic, yet it is slow. He drifts towards her torso at a safe distance, as not to be in range of any possible attacks.
".ℸ ̣ ᓭ𝙹ꖎ ᒷ⍊ᔑ ⍑ ⚍𝙹|| (You have lost.)" 'Young' Heath raises his trident up, ready to deliver a final angled throw into her heart through her open armpit. And before she has time for any possible counterattack, he launches it into her at supersonic speeds.
A direct hit to her heart, she is bleeding internally at a rate that not even her hyper-coagulating blood can save her. Her eyes slowly turn dull while her breathing weakens. No honour or respect to such a kill, as if she were nothing but a common animal. He stares at her, silent and solemn, knowing there was no other way this could have gone. She tried to do another final attack, but she was too strung to put it through. It faded out, just as she does now in a few moments. Heath flies into the void, seeing if he can save the last endermen.
He gathered enough magic, watching the dragon in case any sudden near-death hysterics could lead to further catastrophe, but he saw nothing else but her body starting to break down and fade away into light. He nods to himself and flies down below.
'Young' Heath goes down quickly enough to catch up to them, while there is no atmosphere as there was on the islands, their physiology allowed them to survive for long enough. He collects all of them before bringing them back up and through the still-open portal where he first came through. Putting them by the villagers who have come out of the bunkers. He stares down at his left side towards his bare nub of an arm and voided torso that is slowly filling in. He goes back through, now seeing the Dragon slowly rising into the air.
He watches her body slowly fade into the growing light, seeing how it guides itself into the nest where it accumulates into a flat, mirrored liquid that almost calls for 'Young' Heath to come in. Not in a seductive, evil way. More as if it was a natural course of actions set by. . .
The realm he was in. He turns back to greet the villagers one last time. He says goodbye to his team, sends videos throughout their own version of the web of how Heath will see to what is beyond, and how he trusts them enough to run themselves self-sufficiently and to further make themselves into an honest, egalitarian country. Now in his final moments, he sits in the liquified light in Jean's original nest. A villager scouting party at the edge was watching him, as he too fades away with a placid, yet existential expression.
Heath hears whispers in his now ethereal form, turning from a non-gendered, almost autonomous voice to one he easily recognises. 'Wake up. . .' 'Mom?' Heath asks back, not believing yet, making sure. 'It is time to wake up, Heath.' This voice finishes, and he jolts.
He breathes in a gulp of air, sweat staining his brow. He tries to readjust his neck, but he cannot move, for he has been bed-bound for too long and is still in pain from the crash. He looks around with his dilated eyes that are adjusting to the brightness of the monochrome room, a mixture of sterile and sprayed freshener smells wafting, blocked in with a curtain and a closed, blinded window. He sees the digital clock that gives a date and time on the mobile work table. August 12, 2023. 2:39 AM. '. . . 40 Years there.' He internally states in a groan.
'Yet only a month has passed.' A single, slow tear streams down the side of his cheek, his sunken eyes appearing as if he has gone through more than what should have been for a man of his innocence. He closes his eyes to rest. He does not move any more, he is home.
The scene cuts to black. It becomes a pitch too dark for anyone to see, then turns back up. Turning the building visible again, as the illusion has dispelled. Everyone acclimates to their surroundings again. While it was in darkness, the golems came in with greater desserts, pastries, and caramel and fudge confectioneries and drinks on trays. "As Gorm had said when I first came here, drink, and be merry!" Heath grabbed a caramel-coated apple on a stick, with crushed nuts sprinkled upon it. Quickly chomping on it with a big bite.
Heath felt he did a good job, using a real event when he had that car crash and was bedbound for a month at the hospital to work as a 'dream' to where he spent that time in that Minecraft world. He smiles to himself while watching everyone try the ready-made sweets.
All of them talk with each other, items in hand and convening about the points of the battle, many of the warriors there saw his brutality against such an enemy. He used no techniques, only brute strength and a calculated IQ. "When we teach him those fighting techniques, he will become a true threat in any battle, more so than what he appeared." Egill says as an obvious compliment with Heath in earshot. Agnarr raises his caramelised onion bread roll with a salad within as an agreement, to give a good recipience with the sapient deer nearby.
"Yes, and he says he will give us such powers, if everyone were like him. The Æsir would fall in but a week." Jhurvon states with a cider in hand, giving a flirtatious look to Heath while in his best outfit. "I would have given it a month." Hervor speaks back with confidence.
"I do not think we could ever become as strong as him, but just this will make our lives so much easier." Asdos says with a slight lilt in his voice, and soon sits down next to them on a table's side. Many of the group nod, "Heath is quite the anomaly, after all." Egill taps curiously, a mennskr who turned out to be this strong in only a few weeks? For them, they would class it as infinite potential. "Who are these Æsir you speak of?" The Eirikr-like deer asks them while strutting towards them slowly, glass of wine in hand.
"People like Heath as the closest resemblance, but do not care for once-mortal lives like our own and would rather keep us low to worship them by grovelling at their feet instead. As Heath had said, they are 'assholes.'" Egill remarks with a joky tone, causing him to snort.
"I see, an enemy of Heath's allies is an enemy of us." The Eirikr-like deer succinctly states before swigging a bit down. "I will ask later about them, I had wanted to ask you all what your thoughts are on the food? Lovely, is it not?" He twirls the liquid in the glass, showing its clear, sparkling view. "Yes, it is. The food of his realm had a 'culinary Renaissance' during the 1600s, an extra half of a millennium would do that with food and flavours. It's great." They continued chatting the night away, all included in the discussion with equal ponder.
Yufren walks up to Heath with Artkrea in tow. A clear look of confusion in his eyes. "Why do you hide your scar? We saw in the last scene you did not have it, but my guess is that with your way to change appearance, you could have it again to show off a previous great battle."
Artkrea nibbles on a fudge cracker with magically-made honey drizzled on top, but nods with what her father says. "I thought it appeared ugly, so I kept it as my original look from my home realm." He takes a final chomp of his caramel-coated apple and makes the stick disappear. "What battle was it from?" Artkrea questions between bites. "It was against a fortress that was manned by wandering skeletons, charred and cursed by the nether dimension. It had knicked me with its cursed sword and was incredibly slow of healing."
Heath sighs. "I was caught off guard at that time while I was fighting the fire sprites. With it blending with the background from its charred bones, it was too late for me to dodge. As soon as it hit my face, I launched it into a brick wall down below." Heath laughs to himself.
He remembers when it happened in the game, nearly getting knocked off of the fortress and into the lava below. Remembering that moment and jump-critting the skeleton off the edge before it hits the side of an open section away from the brick fence. "Learnt to always watch my surroundings after that happened. But, yeah. I only saw that as a reminder of my overconfidence during battle." He levitates a glass of champagne towards him. "I am surprised you enjoyed its look. How come?" Heath scrunched his eyebrows while sipping.
"It was the whole look, really." Artkrea gave a shy giggle. "Made you appear very menacing, yet reliable." Her response was met with a nod of approval from Yufren. "Eh, I understand. Hope you are fine with me not going with this look again, however." Heath shrugged.
"Of course." They continued chatting about various mundane topics related to the party, including possible future technologies that would involve Yufren as a smith and Artkrea as a seamstress, as well as which buildings would be further updated in this process. This continued on until they felt too tired to continue, and all of them felt the need to go back to the camp. None had yet as they felt it would have been rude before the person of honour who made this party told them not to yet.
Heath walked back up to the microphone stand and spoke what he had been thinking of beforehand. "Everyone!" Heath's raised voice made everything go quiet. "As the rooms have been made and all of the newly made furniture has been transported. . ." Heath pauses.
"I ask of you to stay in this structure for the night! The Autos will guide you to your respective rooms where your items have been safely stashed and sorted beside the other items. A lovely quilt bed is there and ready for both mennskr and deer alike. I have made a runic injector per room that explains the functions of specific technologies like the freezers, fridges, microwaves, ovens with their respective tops, toasters, blenders, and more! As said before, if you have a fear of needles, simply ask someone who has to teach you."
Many of their eyes alight, awaiting the new incoming blast of knowledge that would appear with life-altering capabilities in tow, none disagreed, and each of them followed their respective golems to their two-story rooms that were closer to normal-sized homes.
"Huh, there's a note in our home," Egill emphasised the last word, knowing that these are twice the size of their own back in the main compound. He picks it up and reads through it, with the contents of the message saying that if they wished to keep these homes and travel between this one and their originals, they can set up private portals that could lead to it. And for them to discuss interior decoration changes or room alterations as needed, if they wished. "How thoughtful, as usual." Egill sits upon the soft comforter (thick duvet.)
He looks around, seeing water and biscuits on the side. He looks further and sees a closed section with a rim and sill. "That must be the false window talked about in the runic injector." He walks up and presses the small panel on the right of it, turning it on.
A great view appeared of a modern Malaysian beach, from when Heath had gone on holiday there in his home realm. It acted as a 3D reactive cut that is superimposed over the sky above them, which is viewed in real time. He watched the calming waves upon the clear night backdrop that glittered with the starlight above. Egill simply nods in affirmation and thanks before turning it off again and drinking a glass of water before going to bed. A moment passes, and he lies there underneath the plush covers.
"It feels almost too soft, like I will be swallowed in." Egill grumbles, though he enjoys it either way. He drifts off to sleep, like everyone else who will stay in for more than half a day. The Autos were hard at work cleaning and checking during this time, with nothing to report.
"What should we do now, papa?" Valyria asks Heath, smirking innocently as she was happy that everyone had a good night's rest. "Now we can rest." Heath collapsed on a chair.