Chapter 27: The Show Has Begun.
Date: Mörsugur 16th, 999. (Alt: 29th Dec, 999 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
Heath waits for everyone to sit down after viewing the furniture as if they are priceless art pieces, their careful manoeuvring showing they understand its craftsmanship.
Every one of them turned towards him, like spectators to a maestro's work in music. "Welcome, everyone! I have much to say about tonight, but I will keep it short. All of you must be pretty excited for the show that will come on, which we will put on shortly." He pauses.
"As you may know, I am not from this realm. I came from a godless planet that had little to no recorded magic. However, before arriving here, I came across a large realm that was devoid of any mennskr-like people, except for the villagers. It was my base of operations for a while, and I will show the end result before returning back to my home realm. You will watch one of my greatest battles before returning there. I will show some scenes. May all of you enjoy." Heath backs away from the created microphone, then internally slaps his forehead.
Nevermind, he moves back again. "I notice some of you have your sights on the food. It's free, go on and try it!" He moves his head away to breathe a sigh of relief silently. They all scurry towards it, some acting like gluttons and taking large swathes of it.
Yet it was still more than enough to feed all of them, as the Autos simply kept on preparing more of it while bringing it to other smaller trays that were then led to the main table. "The show will begin in a few ticks, do not mind the scenery change." Heath states, giving a finger snap, which is the signal. The outside of the building darkens to a pure black, the screens matching in turn. The people mind their own business during this whole process, trusting Heath enough not to doubt him. They all sit down and chat among themselves on the low.
All hear the second finger snap, they turn silent and either look outside the windows or at the TVs if they are closer to it. And now, it begins, a grand illusionary tapestry starts, showing a scene of great wonder:
A skyline view of a grand city appears, modern-esque buildings that are either purely cuboidal or made of arraying patterns are shown, all of them are between 40 to 80 storeys high, and at the top, they have solar arrays or large wind turbines. Many of them have billboards of consumable products that are written in an alphabet unknown to them. Minecraft's standard galactic alphabet. It looked like a cleaner Hong Kong, with arrays of efficient cable cars and hover vehicles travelling throughout it.
The people looked at it in wonder, seeing an engineering marvel that would not yet be possible for another millennium, it spanned the entire view from its visible northern mountain range towards the southern ocean. The camera then panned in, showing a ground view.
"Are those. . . The villagers?" Gorm blinks multiple times in succession, not believing what he saw. Heath had designed them to appear unique from any other known model from his home realm. Now based on tapirs, their long, hanging nose was a small trunk, and the large, bulbous head was instead a pointed cranium that connected to a skinny humanoid body. The design worked quite well, and it had its expected reactions. They either had ginger to black fur, or they were furless, showing a leathery, tanned skin where it was not robed.
They went about their day-to-day business, walking, talking to their fellow people or on phones, or sitting down on seats or bartering for goods. They had modern technology that matched about 2019 - 2020, and any other parts were replaced with magic examples.
They all wordlessly turned towards a sleek, red-hued vehicle that was designed much the same way as a 2019 Mazda-CX5, its hovering chassis appearing shiny and aesthetically pleasing to the viewers on the screens and glass of the building. It stopped in front of the tallest structure that was reminiscent of the Empire State Building, but much grander in size. It stopped hovering in place and magnetically coupled to the metal plate below itself, and out came a villager in a robe tuxedo with a satin texture, slightly glowing with unknown enchants.
It walked like a bodyguard and acted like a chauffeur, opening the door behind the front, leading out a younger Heath. Not with a full bushy beard but instead with stubble and a large scar upon his left upper vermillion border on his lip. (The bit above the lateral incisor.)
The gums behind it showed through in a sharp triangular shape, making him appear almost villainous in design, but he had that same soft look in his eyes as his older version (but without as large crows' feet). He got up from his car seat and walked with a long stride. Those who were closest to his pathway turned inwards and bowed, as if greeting a king. Heath simply nodded towards them, a slight smile tugging his lips. Now in the building, he walks up to a hovering elevator and goes up to the top floor, his office.
"He had a scar?" The viewers asked, looking between themselves and then looking towards Heath's full beard in view, Heath simply morphed his upper lip to look like the image, then back to its original form. An easy trick with an amorphous body like his.
They quickly looked back towards the closest viewable section. Now seeing Heath sitting on a stone desk with a leather-backed rolling chair, he looked through a screen on the other side of his top-view office with his hands in front of his face, clasped together. There was a reading below that showed seismological, meteorological, environmental and magical. All other features appeared in nominal levels, though the magical readings were skyrocketing rapidly from his view. 'Young' Heath's expression looked grave, VERY GRAVE.
He signed some last documents that involved him directly before leaving, he travelled to the second floor of this structure, where the leading 200 scientists would work on a smaller site to direct all other efforts.
'Young' Heath's expression looked cold, robotic. Others could tell it did not fit him as they were looking at the windows and screens with clear worry. Due to the impossible-to-grasp language barrier, 'Young' Heath tried to coordinate through hand signals instead.
He pointed towards the off-the-chart readings, setting it up in thanks to British Sign Language, this was directly translated onto the screens in writing. Which was quickly understood in thanks to the Language runic injectors that were spread around the camp.
Those who had a fear of being stabbed were simply told what was being said by those close to them, simple enough. "Do you believe the cause of this error is from them?" 'Young' Heath looked almost furiously towards the readings, the Villager lab-professional simply nodded.
With the Villager's hands having three fingers with hooved phalanges, they could not communicate in complicated terms. So they instead used facial expressions and trunk movement as compensation for concepts. It was slow, but done efficiently. "We have ways to stop them now, your Majesty. You do not need to worry." The Villager lab-professional moves back and taps onto a hovering keyboard that stays in close proximity to him. "From our estimations with previous readings, they will arrive in. . ." It lifts up the keyboard to his arms.
It taps multiple numerical symbols and certain key combinations that represent specific equations that then extrapolate the data into quantifiable information. "14 hours, our men would be ready by then." The Villager continues this until 'Young' Heath's hand raises.
"No." Heath walks off, understanding the severity of the situation. The Villager lab-professional follows him, however, an act others would have deemed almost heretical. "But you should not fight for us. You have had enough battles for our sakes, your Majesty." A slight harumph from 'Young' Heath met his factual but mainly emotionally driven responses. "There has been too much death, and her zombification magic is too infectious for quickly deployable cures. I will employ few." He continues walking, but the Villager continued.
"Your Maje-" It tried to protest, but 'Young' Heath raised his fist, then looked at him with an expression of disappointment. For a Villager who prided himself on his loyalty, it felt small and powerless. "Leave me to this and those I trust, Go prepare supplies for the bunker."
This expression shed a slight whine from the Villager, before it lowered its head and backed off into the laboratory again. 'Young' Heath's eyes lingered down, worried for the aftermath. But continued on towards his armoury. He wished there was another way, but knowing what would come, he did not waver. It was a silent walk, bypassing paused Villagers that reacted with something beyond worship in their eyes, which 'Young' Heath reacted with a controlled reaction, but for those who knew him personally like Gorm, it was only dejection.
It has now moved on to a dark metallic door, it's dark, glossy surface showing solidity and strength, it appeared to flicker with a purple light that would not dim, only wave throughout itself. Heath opened it through a small machine that marked his hand, then he went through.
A large, minimalistic room appeared, corrugated through with the same shimmering metal. Everyone watching saw the dozens of armour sets that each had a unique purpose. Each had different coloured markings upon them, representing different enchantments. There are 4 different armour sets, from helmets to leggings, but with 8 sets of boots. Done to use all of the incompatible Protection Types, Depth Strider, and Frost Walker enchantments. Heath walked past all of them, reaching a set of armour that had no markings upon it.
He touches its surface, and it turns almost goo-like, slowly gliding over him until it reforms onto him. The enchantments activate, brighter than the door and appearing like stellar constellations across the metal. The now faceless warrior that is 'Young' Heath looks down towards his hands, then walks out. He grabs the Netherite-coated trident by the wall and his weapons, which he blinks out of existence into himself. A single breath escapes, and the silent thudding of his metallic boots is heard on the stone flooring while he leaves.
"He looks like a true Goði (Chieftain, warrior leader), does he not?" A random person says in the background in a hushed tone. "One I would not fight. But, quiet." Eirikr responds in kind. They look back, now seeing 'Young' Heath start floating on his own.
He appears inexperienced, slightly wobbly. Yet he goes into the skies where the winds are at their hardest. He raises a hand in a grasping gesture, which causes machinery below to begin whirring. The magic batteries that had stayed dormant for years began absorbing magical energy from the air again for the shield generators. A flattened top that appeared water-like in constitution blanketed all of the buildings, also shielding it from any possible incoming teleportation transmissions. Even so, 'Young' Heath stayed still.
A sudden bar appeared at the bottom of the windows and the TVs, stating 'time accelerated.' It showed Heath motionless yet the world around him rapidly changing, the villagers herded themselves to underground sections, preparing for the upcoming cataclysm, the sun moved.
It was now close to night when new fluctuations appeared from 'Young' Heaths own vision. 'They are two hours early.' His internal voice was heard by the viewers. His expression deadened as he watched the portals appear. 'Young' Heath clicked a button by the hem of his belt, signalling to everyone below that it had begun. Every person who viewed this cold persona of his appeared chilled at the sight, and they began hearing the slight thrum of fast-playing sound tubes in the background, representing the strengthening winds around him.|
The gathering of power around him began creating solid streaks of air that were thicker than its surroundings, and a fog-like envelopment started forming around him at a rapid pace, creating a cyclonic effect that appeared as if it were gathering the clouds around him.
It began, Heath clicked the button a second time, setting all of the alarms off in the bunkers, for they have returned. Collosal flying ships made of chorus plants, purpur and their respective stone panels drifted through the portals, reminiscent of the games.
In the background, where the largest of the portals were, a titanic battlecarrier appeared, mounting shulkers throughout it that would fire their bullets through blue soul fire within what would have been its cannon ports, each looked outward, their gleaming purple eyes and emotionless visages ready for what would come soon. Endermen wearing elytras were seen, they fired their shulker bullets into them, causing them to start levitating, as once they wore off, they glided through the air towards the shielded city below.
".ᒷᒲᒍ⍑ ▭ ∷⚍ᒍ ▭ ᒍᒣ ▭ ᒷᒲᒍᔮ ▭ ⚍ᒍ॥ (You come to our home.)" 'Young' Heath spoke in their tongue. A reversed, warped English-like language that seemed to light the air around him with concentrated magical power.
".リᒍ╎ᒣᔮ⚍∷ᒣϟᒷ↸ ▭ ∷⚍ᒍ ▭ ⎓ᒍ ▭ ϟᒷ╎∷ᒣϟᒷi!ᖋᒣ ▭ ᒷᒣᖋᒷ∷ᔮ ▭ ⚍ᒍ॥ (You create tapestries of our destruction.)" His voice rises further, the storms appear around him, shaking the weather around him to make coalescing zig-zagging clouds that lead towards him, seeming to provide all of Heath's necessary magic for absorption. The chants from an unknown source grow louder, as if the very world around him heeds to his calls, forming a dense marquise of untapped potential around him, ready for use.
".ᒲ|:ᒍ⍑ ▭ ↸ᒷ∷╎⎓ーリᒍ┤ᖋ∷↸ ▭ ∷⚍ᒍ॥ ▭ ᒲᒍ∷⎓ ▭ |:|:ᖋ (All from your dragon-fired holm.)" Heath raises a single hand, the end ships that had turned in time start to fire towards him their soul-fired shulker bullets, they careened towards him at blinding speeds.
".ᒷ∷ᒍᒲ ▭ ᒍリ (No more.)" He guides the bullets to orbit around him, accelerating them to even further speeds, and like an uncontrolled particle collider, he fires them at greater hyper-sonic speeds. It tears through the closest ships, destroying them through a hole at the front and a great tear through their lower wales. ".リᒍ╎ᒣᔮ⚍∷ᒣϟリ╎ ▭ ॥ᒲ ▭ ᒷᕊ ▭ |:|:ᖋ⍑ϟ ▭ ϟ╎⍑ᒣ (This shall be my instruction.)" The condensed magic around him further juxtaposes its surroundings. Making the world around him appear greyed out up close.
".リ╎ᖋ┤ᖋ ▭ ᒷᒷ∷⎓ ▭ ᒷᕊ ▭ ᒍᒣ ▭ ⚍ᒍ॥ ▭ ∷ᒍ⎓ ▭.ᒷᔮリᒷ⚍|:⎓リ╎ ▭ ∷ᒷ⍑ ▭ ᒷ⍊ᒍᒲᒷ∷ ▭ |:|:╎∴ ▭ ╎ (I will remove her influence. For you to be free again.)" The chants turn to yells of unintelligible languages, yet all can be understood. They accept this decree.
"․■․リᒍϟ╎∷i! ▭ ┤リ╎ᒣᖋᒍ|:⎓ ▭ ∷⚍ᒍ॥ ▭ ⎓ᒍ ▭ ᒷ|:i!ᒍᒷi! ▭ ↸ᒷリ╎ᖋ⍑ᔮ ▭ ᒷ⍑ᒣ ▭ ᒍᒣ ▭ ᒷϟ╎ᒲᒍ∷i! ▭ ॥ᒲ ▭ ϟ╎ ▭ ᒣᖋ⍑ᒣ (That is my promise to the chained people of your floating prison!)" He yells loud enough through the heard background. He raises his second hand, and clenches both while moving closer simultaneously. The ships' hulls creak and strain under an unknown force. Until. . . "․■․·ǀ·ᖋᒷ∷ᕊ (BREAK!)" 'Young' Heath's scream was said as the song's scream occured at the same time. The ships break like slowly split Kit Kats.
The sound of splitting metal and stone tore through the air, broken to tiny chunks that orbited around a weightless interior that kept all of the still-alive husks of the endermen. Their gaunt and soulless visages turned to 'Young' Heath.
All of them created their cry, showing their freakish, artificial aggression towards him. Many tried to teleport to the orbiting pieces, but they were blocked. The sound of their screams were haunting, yet sombre. Knowing that they had no choice but to become like they were. 'Young' Heath stared towards them, knowing of their old history. He could not pity them, but he could still give them another chance at becoming people again. ".I!ᒷᒷ|:ϟ (Sleep.)" He wills a small amount of magic into a strong anaesthetic, leading to them falling one by one.
He brought them down to the ground once they were safe for the villagers to carry them. He clicks the button a third and final time. This also unlocked the bunker doors for them to work as they wished. The plan he set beforehand for this scenario started to play out.
He knew that with their profound worship, they would not go against him. Meaning he knew they would rehabilitate the endermen just fine. And now, he travels through the closest portal in the sky, and the glass and the screens begin wobbling, before turning black. A few seconds pass and Heath coughs in the background. *AHEM* They all stare at him, some gaping at him, seeing his younger self in the man they know. "It is a small break now, have some food before the next part begins!" Heath says, almost too cheerily.
They were feeling hungry, so. . . They scrambled to the food and went back to their seats, then they sat down and chatted like a storm. "Did you see how big that ship was!" Asdos says, unusually loud in tone. "It appeared bigger than Hringhorni's tales." Egill mutters.
"Heath could tear a ship like that to shreds, even with it made of metal and that floating stone, that is way too powerful." Eirikr says in a tone that betrayed no emotion, yet his expression was one of quiet wonder. "Yet he still had trouble with that dragon, Jean." Egill's comment was met with a common slap to his shoulder by Gorm. "That is his tale, after all. We will enjoy this fight!" Gorm cheers while drinking some fruity mead prepared for this viewing. He was about to say something else until the windows and glass changed again.
They all went silent, fully enjoying the short film, the noise of the sound tubes became louder until he went all the way through the portal, and the scenery changed around him. A large purple and blackish void with a fog that surrounded them appeared.
At its centre, the island, with towering, crying obsidian pillars, with the ender dragon sitting on its perch around its bedrock nest, all ships around her turned to 'Young' Heath in unison.