Devourer's Attention
Not long after Michael's battle with Toorlokmaar, Alduin and the other dragons had taken a momentarily retreat to discuss the new 'being' in Tamriel.
Alduin knew that they'd lost a sibling, he could feel their soul splinter and disintegrate, most likely returning to Akatosh as raw energy. The biggest thing on his mind however was the 'voice' behind, that'd silenced everyone and everything in Tamriel for a couple seconds.
He knew not of the technique for this, it wasn't dragon tongue, nor was it any native magic he knew of, only that it was very, very effective against him and kin. Their voice was their most powerful weapon, yet some 'being' was able to strip them of it, even while hundreds of miles away.
The voice had silenced the entire realm, and caused an existential shiver through his body. Even HE could not do something such as that on a whim. His voice at most would silence the whole of Skyrim, perhaps the dark elf-lands too...
His siblings were arguing with one another to figure out its origins, but Alduin knew it had to belong to a mortal, or at least, a mortal-based creature. His father's barrier had completely stopped any outsiders from entering the realm, leaving it all to him to rule...
He turns his burning red eyes to his annoying siblings, "NAHLOT! TOVIT FIN GOLT FAH NII! FIN POOK DO DINOK AUS ZU'U, ORIN HET! SIIV NII! YAH NAHKRIIN FAH UN ZEYMAH!" (SILENCE! SEARCH THE LANDS FOR IT! THE STENCH OF DEATH SUFFERS ME, EVEN HERE! FIND IT! SEEK REVENGE FOR OUR BROTHER!) Alduin roars, furious that his efforts were impeded by this 'foreign' mortal.
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Elsewhere.
Michael had sent the girls back to Winterhold while he himself headed to the Aetherium Forge. He had a shit ton of Aetherium, some ebony, and dragon bones to mess around with. While he wasn't a smith, the Aetherium Forge made up for his lack of talent.
All he really needed to do was insert the materials and configure what he wanted, like some super old yet high-tech 3D printer.
He rubs his hands together, wondering what he'd end up making...
Four hours later...
Michael tosses the failure into the same pile as the others. He'd been basing his earlier designs on the Dragon Bone weaponry from the original game, which was essentially just sharpened dragon bones welded to ebony... Clearly, this wouldn't work for him however, the Forge itself wasn't designed with that in mind, nor did it mesh well when Aetherium was integrated into it.
Not only that, Dragon Bone itself was heavily resistant against enchanting, clearly an artefact of the Dragon's innate magical resistance.
So, he'd begun an original design, making use of the lessons he'd learned while working with the materials. Ebony was super hard, but somewhat brittle under some circumstances due to it basically being crystalized god-blood. Dragon bone was incredibly hard but had some give to it, due to the internal blood vessels and arteries contained within... This also made it imperative to pick the 'good' pieces that didn't have too many deformities.
Thankfully, he had an abundance of dragon bone to work with, the entire skeleton being enough to make several suits of dragon bone armour if he wished it...
Lastly was Aetherium, which was basically unbreakable. While like glass, larger pieces were susceptible to being broken off, at a certain size even gods would be hard-pressed to break it.
"Alright, let's see if this one works..." he mutters as he pulls the blade from the forge.
Unlike his other designs, this one was a single-bladed ringed dao sword, the edge was made out of a 'composite' of dragon bone and ebony... Well, 'composite' isn't really the right word, he'd essentially just gotten a bone with the most arteries and blood vessels in it and filled them with ebony, making it look like a fragmentary black and white material.
The handle and hilt were pure ebony that'd been wrapped around Aetherium, which made it both incredibly hard, but very magically viable. The dao's rings were also made of Aetherium, leaving them as semi-seethrough slightly glowing rings.
Lastly, the guard itself, unlike the Chinese design it was based on, it was larger and made from Aetherium, looking like a bearded middle-aged man's head with a mouth that could move...
"Hmmm..." he hums as he turns towards the target dummy he'd made just for this that was wearing full ebony armour.
*Ching!* the dao's rings sound out as he makes the attack.
*SLASH!*
...
Nothing happens for a second, until the armour slides off onto the floor, cleanly cut through, as if it were made of butter.
*Shiiiiiik-Thud!*
"Ohhohohohoh... You're perfect." he grins, swinging it around another couple of times. It was lighter than you'd expect due to the presence of the Aetherium that made up its base, making it feel like a single-handed sword as opposed to the two-hander it truly was.
He also wanted to enchant it, but he'd wait until he met another dragon. He wanted to see what would happen if he embused a dragon soul, or at least a shard into it. For others it this would be impossible since Soul Gems simply couldn't bear the strain of a dragon soul, but he was a walking dragon soul gem, so hopefully it would work.
There was just one last thing to do...
"Oi, Derp-Flinger! Get in the sword already! I know you're in there!" he exclaims, shouting into his Gandalfr rune where the sentient sword should be.
*Clack, Clack*
The mouth on the Aetherium head moves a couple times, as if trying to finger out how to work it.
"You bastard! How long did you wait before making me a new body!" Derflinger angrily shouts.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that long!... Besides, your new body is the best... Like, literally, it might be the best sword in Tamriel!"
The Aetherium head glows slightly, as if to make known Derflinger's embarrassment. "Y-you sure?"
Michael nods, "If we face that demon guy again, you'll cut him from head to cock without taking a single scratch!... I literally made you from the bones of a dragon, blood of a god, and unbreakable gems!"
...
"Well... I suppose I could forgive you... Hey, now that I think about it, where's Darth?"
...
"Let's just say that things got a bit 'out of hand' and leave at that. Don't trouble a foot..." he ominously says.
"Oi, don't you mean 'Trouble's a foot?'"
Michael shakes his head, "No, I literally mean don't trouble the foot." he says, pointing at Darth who'd appeared from his shadow.
"Oh, hey Dar-OOUUUUAHHIIIIIYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Derflinger shrieks as he lays eyes on his 'friend', horrified that they wouldn't be able to go around slicing shit like they used to.