Planet with no name.
After twelve days of walking through fluorescent jungles, plains of giant ferns, and rivers of liquid mercury, I finally arrived in the volcano region. And against all expectations, this place was not the barren wasteland I had imagined. It was magnificent.
The grass covering the ground had an ashen hue, as if every blade had been delicately dusted with silver powder. It rippled under the hot wind blowing down from the volcano's slopes. The temperature was high, suffocating even, but for my Primarch body, it was perfectly bearable. A pleasant forge heat, nothing more.
An entire ecosystem had managed to adapt to this hostile zone. Life always found a way, even at the foot of a fire-breathing mountain.
I moved forward cautiously, my red eyes scanning the landscape. Birds flew through the ash-tinted sky. But these were no ordinary birds. Their wings were covered in gleaming scales that reflected the orange light of the volcano like living stained glass. They let out melodious cries that contrasted with the harshness of the scenery. One of them landed on a nearby branch and watched me, head tilted, curious but unafraid. The animals of this planet had clearly never encountered a super-predator before. They would learn.
Further off, a herd of deer grazed peacefully. Their coats were a deep red, covered in undulating patterns that evoked living flames. Their antlers resembled branches of molten coral, incandescent at their tips. When one of them turned its head toward me, I saw its golden eyes shining with a feverish glow. They didn't flee, but kept their distance, their instincts probably whispering that I was dangerous.
Vulkan: "Incredible. An entire ecosystem adapted to fire."
I resumed my progress through this surreal forest. The trees growing here had nothing in common with those of the jungle I had crossed. Their trunks were black, a deep matte black like charcoal, and their bark looked like burnt wood. It looked like a forest ravaged by wildfire, frozen in time. But on closer inspection, these trees were very much alive.
Their leaves were a fiery red, sometimes orange, sometimes yellow, like petrified flames dancing in the hot wind. When sunlight filtered through the canopy, the ground was tinted with golden reflections, creating a hypnotic play of shadows and light. It was a wild and unsettling beauty, as if nature itself had decided to tame fire and turn it into a garden.
On certain branches, I noticed fruits. They hung heavily, round and red, the size of a human fist. They looked like Earth pomegranates, but their skin gleamed with a metallic sheen. I approached one of the trees and picked a fruit. It was hard to the touch, almost like polished stone. For a normal human, opening it barehanded would have been impossible. For a Primarch like me, it was child's play.
I pressed lightly, and the shell split cleanly, revealing an inner flesh that resembled that of a grapefruit. The texture was grainy, juicy, a pale translucent pink. A sweet and tangy smell wafted out, tickling my nostrils.
Vulkan: "Let's see if it's edible."
Primarch biology is a wonderful thing. We can digest just about anything. Ferrus Manus, one of my brothers, could literally eat metal and draw nutrients from it. My Vulkan body shared that absolute resilience. No natural poison could affect me. No toxin could breach my cellular defenses. I was immune to everything.
I bit into the fruit. The taste exploded on my tongue: sour like a green lime on the first hit, then sweet like honey on the aftertaste. The flesh melted in my mouth, releasing a cool, thirst-quenching juice. It was absolutely delicious.
Vulkan: "Good lord, this is delicious! I really want to settle here."
I picked several fruits and carefully stored them in my magical storage bag. They would make an excellent food and water reserve. I then touched the trunk of the tree. The black bark was incredibly hard, far harder than that of Earth trees. It seemed to have been compressed by centuries of volcanic heat and pressure. Perfect wood for construction. Perfect wood for the forge.
Vulkan: "This wood will be useful. But I'll need tools."
I sat at the base of the tree, leaning against its rough trunk, and gazed at the landscape. The volcano rumbled softly in the distance, like a slumbering giant. The smoke rising from its crater drew lazy spirals in the purple sky. A river of lava flowed down its eastern flank, slow and luminous, winding between the black trees. The heat it radiated made the air around it shimmer.
I felt at peace. For the first time since my arrival on this planet, I felt like I belonged. This scenery of fire and ash, this furnace heat, this smell of sulfur and metal... it all resonated with the soul of the smith slumbering within me. Vulkan, Primarch of the XVIIIth Legion, the Salamanders, was at home in the fire. And now, so was I.
I took a long breath, letting the burning air fill my superhuman lungs.
Vulkan: "System. How many days of accumulation since the last opening?"
Ding!
[Current accumulation: 15 days since obtaining the magical storage bag. Bonus level: significant.]
Fifteen days. I had kept accumulating after the twelfth day, deciding to wait until I reached the volcano to open my next box. If twelve days had given me a magic bag, what would fifteen days yield? My fingers trembled slightly with excitement. It was ridiculous. I was a Primarch, a superhuman being capable of shattering mountains, and I was quivering like a kid in front of a vending machine.
Vulkan: "I hope I get lucky today. System, surprise box."
Ding!
[Accumulation ×15. Fifteen days without opening. Would you like to open your bonus surprise box?]
Vulkan: "Yes. Open. Make me dream."
A brilliant light burst before me, far more intense than the previous times. The ground trembled slightly. The scaled birds took flight from the nearby branches, frightened by the sudden flash. Even the herd of fire deer raised their heads, their golden eyes fixed on my position.
Ding!
[Opening! Congratulations! You won: the Doom Slayer's Chainsaw, from the Doom universe. Devastating melee weapon, capable of slicing through any material. Fuel: demonic energy or user's own energy. Autonomous for 24 hours of continuous use. Indestructible infernal steel blade.]
A weapon appeared in my hands. It was massive, heavy, perfectly balanced. A chainsaw. But not just any chainsaw. The Doom Slayer's own, the Scourge of Hell, the destroyer of demons. The blade was made of a dark red metal, covered in engraved runes that glowed faintly. The chain's teeth seemed to absorb the light around them. The engine purred softly when I activated it with a simple thought, as if it responded to my will.
A fierce grin stretched across my tattooed face.
Vulkan: "I was needing something useful... This comes at the perfect time!"
I revved the chainsaw. The noise tore through the silence of the volcanic forest, a mechanical roar that sent the last nearby animals fleeing. The blade spun at insane speed, the runes glowing more intensely with every rotation. I pointed it at a nearby boulder and plunged it in. The stone split like butter, sliced cleanly without any resistance.
Vulkan: "Perfect. Truly perfect."
With this weapon, I could cut down trees in seconds. I could slice through volcanic stone to build a shelter. I could carve, sculpt, build. And above all, if anything hostile showed up, I could reduce it to confetti.
I deactivated the chainsaw and stored it in my magic bag. It vanished entirely, its two meters of length swallowed by the dimensional space like a twig.
The volcano awaited me. Up there, in the bowels of the mountain of fire, I would establish my forge. I would build my base. I would become the master of this world.
I stood up, dusted off my blue tiger leather loincloth, readjusted my magic bag on my shoulder, and resumed my march toward the summit. The red mark of Kratos shone on my obsidian skin. The Doom Slayer's chainsaw rested in my storage space. And in my pocket, a used toothpick reminded me that the universe had a hell of a sense of humor.
Vulkan: "Alright. The mountain of fire calls me. And Vulkan the smith will answer."
The Primarch plunged into the forest of ashes, toward his destiny of fire and metal.