** – Of Birthdays, Boiling Swords, and Dragon BBQ**
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Two years passed.
Winter ended with a dramatic sneeze from the skies, and summer barged in like an uninvited party guest with a flaming sword. Aethonix, now a strapping 15-year-old demigod with the muscles of a gladiator and the attitude of a caffeinated squirrel, was ready to embrace the sun—and his birthday.
Firehair, casually floating midair with her fiery locks, looked around at the preparations. Colorful banners flapped, drums pounded, and the city glowed with glowing Linuar lanterns.
"You're telling me this entire festival… is for your birthday?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"Yep," Aethonix grinned while adjusting his embroidered silver cloak. "We celebrate birthdays hard. It's tradition. It's not my fault I'm the main character."
Firehair raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not some sort of charming evil dictator?"
"Debatable," muttered one council member nearby.
But during the festivities—just after Aethonix beat three governors in arm wrestling and ate five honeycakes without dying—his system pinged.
> **DING!**
> *Congratulations on surviving 15 years. Happy Birthday.*
> *You've been rewarded: SPACE RING (Unlimited Storage).*
> *Next reward in: 10 Earth Years. Good luck not dying.*
"Survive?! Bro, I'm immortal," Aethonix muttered. "Why is it phrased like I'm running from death in a horror movie?"
Still, he couldn't deny the sheer awesomeness. A magical ring with bottomless storage? Like a fantasy backpack with no weight limit. He immediately shoved two couches, five swords, and a watermelon inside it, just because he could.
He paused. "…But my people aren't."
Suddenly the fireworks didn't feel so bright. He slipped the ring on and silently vowed, I'm going to protect all of them. Even if an evil god himself decides to throw hands
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**The Metal That Went "BZZZ"**
Around the same time, the Aurorians discovered a new ore called **Bringorrite**—a crazy dense metal that felt like lifting a black hole.
Combine that with **Vibranium** and the glowing **Griorite** and you've got yourself the Powerpuff Girls of metallurgy.
Using **Ferromancy** (metal manipulation he had somehow mastered by yelling at rocks long enough), Aethonix fused all three into a single sword.
The result?
A sleek, obsidian-forged blade that crackled with energy. The Griorite heated the edge, Vibranium made it nearly indestructible, and Bringorrite reinforced the core structure. When swung, the tip shimmered with heat like a lightsaber after a spicy meal.
When forged correctly, the Griorite's inner thermal energy would superheat the blade's edge upon kinetic motion (aka swinging it like a madman). Vibranium stabilized the structure, absorbing shockwaves and keeping the core from melting. Bringorrite's strength gave it edge retention and sheer durability.
Result? A sword that looked like it came straight out of a fantasy MMORPG.
"It's like... the sword is *boiling,*" Aethonix whispered in awe.
"SCIENCE!" shouted by Cronus, the boy genius, as he scribbled calculations.
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**Cronus the Chaos Baby**
Cronus was a new prodigy discovered among the Aurorians. At just 11 years old, he had already invented **combustion-based propulsion**, a **crude steam engine**, and something he called "Hot Wheels of Doom."
He mixed science and madness like peanut butter and chaos.
Combustion, baby!" Cronus yelled, standing beside a steam-powered machine that puffed smoke and tooted like an angry goose.
"Bro, what does this even do?"
"Well, it burns Linuar crystals to heat water and push pistons. Basic combustion. If I had a chalkboard and three cups of coffee, I could explain more."
Cronus's inventions included:
A Linuar-Powered Forge (didn't explode yet)
A Crank-Operated Drill for mining
A One-Wheeled Personal Carriage (not practical, but hilarious)
A music box that accidentally summoned birds
And a prototype toaster, because toasted bread is sacred
His proudest creation? A mini-powered cart that could go up to 20 mph. Unfortunately, it exploded 3 minutes later.
"We're working on that," he said casually, picking soot out of his ears.
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**Romance? Or Just Floating?**
Firehair and Aethonix had grown closer. She floated by his training sessions, helped him study stars, and once accidentally held his hand while grabbing a biscuit.
"Was that… intentional?" he asked.
"Don't flatter yourself, Starboy."
But later, she smiled quietly while watching him train, arms folded, heart confused.
Aethonix felt it too—this weird, fluttery thing. He once tried talking to a pretty teenage Aurorian and Firehair casually *floated* a few inches above his head. Just watching. Glowing.
Terrifying.
"Maybe this is puppy love…" he mumbled one night. "Or phoenix love. Or… Odin-will-smite-me love."
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**Dragons? BBQ Time**
One day while exploring the forest near the new city **Auroura**, the twins (Aetheria and Terraka) spotted a beast that looked like a mix between a **T-Rex** and a **chicken nugget with wings**.
It was 6 feet tall, snarling, and very flammable.
They called it a **Drakok**.
Aethonix's first instinct? Eat it.
"Honestly," he said, biting into grilled Drakok leg, "it tastes like spicy turkey."
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**Peace, Love, and Paranoia**
After another year of peace, Firehair admitted something over dinner.
"I still don't understand your biology. Your people have no magic, yet you survive everything. You're like stubborn weeds made of starlight."
"Thanks… I think?"
Aurorians couldn't use magic the way humans or Asgardians did. Their power came from raw energy, internal mutation, and very, very shiny rocks.
Aethonix kept dreaming of teleportation spells like the Ancient One's—but for now, he settled on flaming swords, dragon meat, and unlimited storage.
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**The Final Count**
Population: **40,000 Aurorians.**
New city: **Auroura.**
State of Technology: **Late Medieval, Early Combustion.**
Food Supply: **Stable.**
Enemies: **None. Yet.**
Romantic tension: **Sizzling.**
Aethonix sat on the palace balcony one night, watching the stars.
"Maybe in 100 years, we'll have flying cars," he said.
Firehair floated beside him. "Or aliens."
"Let's not jinx it."
And below them, the city hummed—glowing, breathing, expanding. Life was good.
For now.
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