As he carried out the action, Achilles turned to the king of Titanfall Mountain, the Forgemind, and asked quietly,
"Why is it that you seem to hold such a trendous distaste when you look at this Ancient One, Seraphelle?"
His voice didn't hold accusation, just curiosity. The being before him—massive, commanding, terrifying—had undoubtedly wielded power unfathomable before his binding in the catacombs. And now, that sa power simred in the way his gaze burned with utter hatred toward Seraphelle.
There had to be a reason.
Achilles couldn't ignore it, and so, he asked.
The towering king's obsidian, stone-like skin shimred with a molten luster of restrained rage, his eyes flashing crimson as they landed on Seraphelle.
"Those like her and others from Ancient Lineages…descended upon Titanfall Mountain and forced my people to forge day and night. At the cost of our lives, we built for them. Ancient cities, armants, weapons—all to help them survive and prepare for the Long Slumber. And when they woke, as they begin to now, they would rise with an edge…protected, empowered, ready to reclaim their brilliance."
The weight of history dropped like an iron curtain.
Seraphelle's expression hardened. Her wings curled slightly behind her as she shook her head, jaw clenched in defiance.
"I had fucking nothing to do with that!" she snapped, voice sharp and defensive. "You lived far away from my abode. I didn't even bother to seek you out, let alone force anything."
Her words weren't exactly comforting. She didn't say she wouldn't have done it—just that she didn't because of distance.
The Forgemind's glare only grew colder.
"The Ancient Races," he continued, "believed we Titan Dwarves could shape the thrones, vaults, weapons, and strongholds needed for their survival. So they enslaved the Forgemasters. Our cities beca work-citadels. And to et the impossible demands of these cosmic tyrants, we were forced to tap into our Flas of Existence—the inner Primordial Core that gives us life, craft, power. Every weapon forged, every bastion built... took a piece of our soul. Burned it into the structure so it would never fail."
His voice tightened with fury.
"Azkarith Ulm. Tenebris Aegiron. Sanctarith Ultara… all stand today, built upon the deaths of over half our race. So yes. Our hatred runs deep."
…!
A history heavy enough to crush bone.
And yet, after hearing it…
Achilles smiled.
Brilliantly.
"Wow. What a crazy fucking coincidence," he said, voice filled with amusent. "You hate the Ancient Ones for what they did to your people. And I, a tiny little human, also happen to hate the Ancient Ones who try to enslave and slaughter mine. Wouldn't it be poetic if the Titan Dwarves of Titanfall worked with ? Built a fortified kingdom? Since, you know, our lands are so close."
…!
His grin didn't fade as he spoke, but the Forgemind didn't smile back. His expression remained solid, carved from stone.
"Our people will never bend to the will of another race again," the Forgemind said sharply. "Over half of us died for Ancient Ones. We will not die again for—"
"Oh, my bad," Achilles interrupted, his voice suddenly hollow of warmth.
The glow in his purple and gold eyes turned regal. Unyielding.
"That must've sounded like a request. Let be clear—I'm commanding the Titan Dwarves so close to my ho. I won't be brutal. I won't kill anyone. But you will listen."
…!
Even Seraphelle flinched.
The Forgemind's gaze sharpened, and his power began to bleed out in waves, thick with intent.
"You all... are the sa."
WAA!
His rage spiraled, the air vibrating as if the entire mountain prepared to awaken and strike.
But Achilles raised his hand. Calm. Collected.
And behind the Forgemind, the Ethereal Physiology Titan Dwarves—clad in crystalline obsidian armants—moved without command. They stepped forward, breaking formation, and ca to stand beside Achilles.
As if… they were his.
Shock rippled through the mountain. The Forgemind's fury deepened. The controlled dwarves—though their minds remained intact—looked on in muted horror, their spirits dimd.
Achilles t the king's gaze.
And asked himself again what it ant to be a king.
A leader. A communicator. A wielder of power.
And—when needed—decisive.
"I've released sothing," he said calmly, "that doesn't just control those in front of . It binds even the thousands of Titan Dwarves in the newly risen Titanfall Mountain behind you."
…!
A horrifying truth.
In this mont, Achilles didn't wear the crown of a hero.
He looked like a villain.
The Forgemind's face paled. He stared at his kin, torn between anguish and wrath.
"The Mindless Beasts you see behind were affected too," Achilles said, gesturing subtly. "I can make sure your people don't beco like them. I can ensure they remain exactly as they are… so long as they follow my command."
He took a step closer, voice lower now.
"But I promise you this. Unlike the Ancient Ones, I won't let a single one of your people die under my command."
…!
To protect a land, a people…
He had to be firm.
He had to be…tyrannical!
"You can hate . You can say I'm no better than those who ca before. But for your people—for what's left of the Titan Dwarves—what are you willing to do?"
With a soft gesture, Achilles made the spores visible.
Multicolored threads of energy glowed faintly across the mountain, within the bodies of the Ethereal Physiology Dwarves, over buildings and structures far below.
They surged, now, around the Forgemind.
The King of Titanfall Mountain.
He still held the innate barrier of a Dharma Manifestation Realm Entity. Normally, it would have repelled these spores.
But not this ti.
This ti… he allowed it.
He lowered the barrier.
And let the spores in.
His obsidian eyes flared crimson. Rage carved every inch of his being.
Achilles felt it. That molten fury. That refusal to kneel.
But he also felt his own existence seeping into the king. Into the race. His voice echoed like thunder laced with warmth.
"This may feel like the worst thing that could happen. Like you've just escaped one chain, only to be bound by another. But I promise you—when you look back on this day, you'll see it for what it was. The best possible outco."
His voice tightened. "And I keep my word. None of you will die by my hands."
…!
The Forgemind didn't speak.
Didn't move.
He only looked at Achilles—with ancient wisdom and defiance.
Achilles exhaled, gaze softening.
"Anyway," he said, breaking the silence, "let's head down into Titanfall Mountain. I have a feeling there are so interesting things waiting for there…"
His eyes glowed with a radiance no mortal should possess as his seas of Assimilation stirred—rippling outward, touching thousands of powerful beings from this ancient race.
From them, mories poured in.
mories of lineage, of craft, of creation.
mories that whispered of things to co.
Of wonders he could build—within the mountain and around the Kingdom of Neon.
A picture of the future slowly unfolded in Achilles' mind as he stepped forward.
One forged in steel, fire… and command.
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