Achilles took one step closer, and in that moment, the blacksmith moved with surprising speed.
A massive hand, calloused and heavy with the memory of a thousand forge-fires, clamped down on his shoulder. Another hand grabbed his arm, squeezing lightly, testing the flesh and bone underneath.
"Hmph," the great man grunted, pulling Achilles even closer, turning him slightly left, then right, as if inspecting an ingot before forging it anew.
"You are sturdy enough. Some refinement already done, but it could be more."
Achilles opened his mouth, but the giant of a man kept going.
"Forget questions for now, Boy. Tell me, how are you doing?"
There was a surprising softness in that voice, like the rumble of distant thunder long after the storm had passed.
"Have you started yet?"
He did not clarify what 'started' meant.
But then he chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the molten air.
"Bah. Of course you have. It is in our blood. It does not matter where you are born, how you are raised, or whether you want it or not."
The blacksmith let go, arms folding across his chest.
"You will rule. You will be pushed to it. Forced. Others will look to you for guidance even if you say no. It is how it has always been for us."
His molten gold eyes gleamed.
"Tell me, Boy, have you started your royal family yet?"
Achilles opened his mouth again, and again the old smith cut him off.
"You have not started a harem, have you?"
He actually squinted suspiciously around as if expecting women to materialize out of the Dwarf Star's solar flares.
"I tell you, those things are more headache than they are worth. Managing the affairs of a kingdom and Empire is simple compared to managing that mess. One woman, Boy. Stick to one. One good woman who can bear you strong children, heirs who will carry on the Adrastia name."
He harrumphed, shaking his head in visible disapproval.
Achilles chuckled lightly, the sound lost amidst the roaring furnace around them.
"Do not worry. I am doing fine on that front," he said, voice steady.
"Good." The blacksmith nodded in satisfaction, the hard lines of his face softening for a moment. "That is good."
But then Achilles' expression grew more serious.
There was a question he had been holding onto, a weight.
"I do want to know, though," Achilles said, voice lowering. "About our enemies. Why every generation of us seems to be hunted, killed before we fully grow."
For the first time, real silence settled over the forge.
The blacksmith's face hardened, a deep, ancient anger flickering in his molten stare.
He turned, stepping away, walking back toward the star-forge, where his hammer still rested against the anvil.
He picked it up again but did not strike.
Instead, he stared at the swirling, churning material inside the forge, a galaxy of molten gold and seething power.
"When you go far enough into the Star Seas, Boy," he began slowly, voice low and iron-heavy, "you learn something."
He lifted the hammer, pointing it outward as if toward distant, invisible worlds.
"There are countless lineages out there. Countless kinds of life. Creatures, entities, races, all seeking power. All climbing, clawing, bleeding for Complexity, for advancement."
He lowered the hammer.
He turned, facing Achilles again.
"Our bloodline, the Adrastia Emperor Kings, made all that struggle look like child's play."
Achilles did not speak.
"We start small, like everyone else. We assimilate what is around us. The trees. The land. The beasts. The storms."
The blacksmith's voice grew heavier, each word falling like a hammer blow.
"But as we grow, as we build our Complexity…"
A terrible, wondrous smile.
"We move beyond that. We assimilate greater things. Planets. Moons. Suns. Stars. And when our Complexity reaches high enough…"
His eyes gleamed with a deep, abyssal light.
"We can even assimilate things no one else can dream of. Time. Space. Concepts. Even the fabric of Existence itself."
The words struck Achilles like thunder.
Assimilate existence.
The blacksmith's voice dropped to a whisper, rough with memory.
"We violate the very progression of power that rules the Star Seas. We cheat the order of things. We make the impossible… simple."
"And that, Boy, is something the ruling powers of the Star Seas cannot allow."
"They fear what we are. What we could become. And so, generation after generation, they hunt us. They destroy us before we can rise."
He took a step closer again, towering over Achilles.
"Our enemies, Great-Grandson, they are too many to count. Monarchs of Worlds. Emperors of Voidships. Sovereigns of Suns."
He gave a grim smile.
"You do not need to know them yet. If you seek them too soon, they will sense you. Reach for you."
The blacksmith shook his head, turning back to his forge.
"For now, you need only do one thing. Grow. Assimilate. Build your Complexity."
He glanced down at the hammer in his hands, frowning.
"I wish I could pass something more tangible down to you. Something more than words."
His gaze softened, ancient sadness blooming there.
"But this is only a dream. A record. A lineage memory buried deep inside our blood. Nothing of mine can cross over to you."
He lifted the hammer once more, giving it a few casual swings.
"But information, that, I can give."
He turned back one last time, the glow of the forge painting him in molten gold and deep crimson.
"Listen carefully, Boy. Because in this dream, I can show you something even more precious than weapons."
Then the blacksmith planted the colossal hammer beside the forge, its head embedding itself into the molten ground with a rumble.
"My name, Boy," he said at last, pride thick in his voice, "was Vulcaryn Adrastia. Sixth Emperor King of our Lineage. Remember it well."
And for the first time since he arrived, Vulcaryn Adrastia, his Great-Grandfather, smiled wide.
"Good. Now. Come closer, Great-Grandson."
He gestured toward the forge as the solar flames roared louder.