The maximum lifespan of Asgardians is around 5,000 years. Thor, at only 1,500 years old, was just a young, boisterous Asgardian. Therefore, most of his small vault, tucked away in the palace, contained trophies related to battles and wars. The air inside smelled of cold, ancient metal, ozone, and exotic oils. It covered the unique metal materials and weapon styles of most races in the Nine Realms.
Among them, the items Nolan cared about the most were the tens of thousands of Asgard-style weapons forged from Uru metal, stacked in gleaming, heavy piles, and a small, simple set of runes that a young Thor had used to learn how to read.
Even though Thor was reluctant to part with the runes, his voice nostalgic as he held the small, smooth stones. Nolan, however, politely declined the proposal with a smile on his face. Both the technology and magic of the Asgard Palace were based on runes. Not to mention, these twenty-four runes were precious items made by Odin, the Allfather. Even if Raditus couldn't find anything in the end, they were still a fine thing to use simply as a collection.
For a period of time that followed, the task of David and Wong was to count the items by category and then pack them in huge iron boxes kindly provided by Asgard. The heavy clank of Uru weapons being stacked echoed in the vault. In the end, the iron boxes, weighing up to ten tons in total, were piled up into a small, dark hill near the palace gates.
Wong, sighing, had to go directly back to Kamar-Taj through the portal. He then had to pull Mordo into reopening a transmission channel leading directly to the secret base. It took David recruiting hundreds of automatic servo-robots, whirring and clanking in a long line, to quickly end the difficult transportation task.
Nolan naturally didn't push his luck, nor did he believe the Allfather's words about Asgard's willingness to give "anything."
At the same time, Nolan found Old John, who was recovering from his injuries, resting in the halls of healing. The air smelled of strange, potent herbs. He introduced the current state of Midgard to him.
Although Old John's performance on the battlefield was not outstanding compared to Thor and Nolan, that was only because the comparison was different. An ordinary soldier of an Asgardian legion could take on fifty heavily armed human agents by himself, assuming both sides had the same weapons and equipment.
But the berserker Old John, relying only on his broken armor and old weapons, had fought against the Asgardian soldiers one against a hundred. Even though he was seriously injured, he was not killed.
What Nolan valued were the opponent's powerful physical skills and rich, brutal experience from fighting for hundreds of years.
Old John, who was covered in herbal bandages, didn't resist much. His adopted hometown of Alfheim was a frozen wasteland, in need of development, and a berserker who only knew how to kill wouldn't be of much help. With hundreds of years left to live, he was unwilling to stay in Asgard to retire.
So, after thinking for a long time, his one eye staring at the ceiling, he agreed to Nolan's invitation to train human berserkers.
However, Old John also told Nolan clearly, his voice a low growl, that the reason Asgard canceled the Berserker Legion was because the difficulty of training and the loss of personnel were too terrifying. Moreover, once a new berserker stepped onto the battlefield, he was often unable to control himself, and even his teammates would be threatened with injury or death. Only veterans like him, who had experienced countless battles, could freely control their minds.
Nolan had expected this. He told Old John frankly to do his best, and that it didn't matter if he failed.
Soon after, Nolan brought David, Wong, and Old John to the Bifrost to prepare to return to Midgard. Thor, his armor polished and his red cape restored, came to see everyone off. He gave Nolan a parting gift.
It was a magic cloak made by the God Queen Frigga herself from white wolf skin. It was soft, heavy, and cool to the touch. Its only purpose was to prevent any spell divination or tracking of the holder.
Thor told Nolan with a serious expression that this was his extra compensation, and also Queen Frigga's personal thanks to Nolan for helping Thor return to Asgard.
Nolan, who had killed one of Frigga's children with his own hands, hesitated. His gauntleted hand paused in the air. Finally, he slowly reached out and accepted this special gift.
After a few seconds, tiny orange sparks appeared, and a portal spanning countless light years opened outside the base's passage door.
Carrying the C'tan Phase Sword on his back, the recovered Masterwork Bolter hanging from his waist, Nolan moved in Terminator armor with its broken ceramite shell and stepped out of the portal, his heavy boot clanging on the concrete.
Later, David, who was holding precious items such as the Infinity Gauntlet and the Casket of Ancient Winters, and Old John, who was carrying simple luggage, also walked out. Wong, who was responsible for opening the portal, greeted everyone and then closed it with a wave of his hand.
Nolan didn't pay much attention to this. David had written down Wong's phone number. Nolan had also found some magical instruments and books suitable for a sorcerer from Thor's small vault and presented them to Wong. Although their relationship today was not that of truly good friends, they could be regarded as normal friends who could talk if they needed something.
Nolan led Old John, who kept looking at the surrounding environment, his one eye wide with curiosity, into the underground base.
David pointed at the surrounding automatic servo-robots. Several of them immediately stepped forward, whirring, and took the heavy luggage from Old John and the precious harvest from David's hands.
Old John was slightly curious about the robots. It wasn't that he had never seen mechanical civilizations in the universe, but in the past, both sides were usually fighting on the battlefield. There were few opportunities for such peaceful coexistence.
David arranged Old John's room opposite Bucky's. After asking if he had any other requests, David slowly left the room.
At this time, Nolan was already standing on the metal platform in the base hall. More than a dozen automatic servo-robots were busy around him, the sounds of their tools clicking and hissing as they began to release the armor's seals.
Half an hour later, all the armor parts were disassembled and transported underground for inspection.
Nolan, a trace of bone-deep fatigue finally emerging between his eyebrows, rolled his stiff shoulders. He turned his head and said to David, "Next time, if there is a long battle, you must bring a team of automatic servo-robots. Otherwise, it will be crazy if you can't lie down and rest right after the battle."
"My Lord," David's mechanical voice was, as always, respectful. "Although I still have a lot of things to report to you, I think I'd better wait until you rest before talking. There is nothing important that you need to deal with immediately." The blue light in his eyes was steady.
"David, I'll be polite then. You can go and rest too."
Nolan blinked a few times, his eyes heavy, and walked towards his own lounge. He simply washed his tall body, the water sluicing over tired muscles, and lay down on the metal bed before even wiping off the water.
Nolan's eyelids just closed, and he immediately fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
About fifteen hours later, Nolan, awakened by the sharp, demanding hunger in his stomach, suddenly opened his eyes. He stared blankly at the silver metal ceiling for a while, the silence of the base humming around him.
Then, Nolan slowly got up, opened the simulator that he had not paid attention to for a long time, and took out a bottle of Tygus beast milk from the food column.
"It's time to simulate..." he muttered, his voice rough from sleep. "According to the simulation rule of strengthening an item once, this time the strengthening should be the Astartes' operation, right? I just don't know which Primarch I will meet this time? A loyalist or a rebel?"
Nolan blinked a few times after drinking the cold, rich beast milk to fill his empty stomach.
He took a deep breath and prayed to the Emperor as usual.
Then, a fingertip swiped the simulator page and started the simulation.
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