On the way to Rivendell - Day 2 of the tripCaravan: 2,847 elven refugees + Marco's group
Marco Antonio Durán hadn't slept well for two days.
Not because the makeshift elven bed in the caravan was uncomfortable. In fact, elves had a supernatural talent for making any campsite feel like a five-star hotel.
No, Marco didn't sleep because every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sauron's face.
And he heard his own voice saying, "I'll sell you information about Horcruxes."
"You're still awake," observed Loki, who was lying on a nearby cot. His body was still covered in elven bandages that glowed with healing magic. "I can feel your distress from here. It's... loud."
"Noisy?"
"To someone with enhanced magical senses, strong emotions sound like screams. And you're screaming 'I made a terrible mistake' at the top of your lungs." Loki turned his head to look at him. "Regretting the deal with Sauron?"
"I don't know. What do you think? Should I have let him kill everyone and die in the process? Or was I right to give him the knowledge that I could make him unkillable?"
"False dichotomy. Those weren't your only options."
"Then enlighten me, god of sarcastic wisdom. What should I have done?"
Loki considered for a moment.
"Exactly what you did. Because given the circumstances, your information, your limited power, and Sauron's army literally at the gates... negotiation was the only logical move." He grimaced at his ribs. "And believe me, I tried the 'fight to the death' option. I don't recommend it. It hurts like hell."
"But now Sauron knows about Horcruxes—"
"So?" Loki interrupted. "Marco, listen to this carefully: Sauron was already nearly immortal. His soul was already bound to the One Ring. The Horcruxes just diversify his bets. Yes, he's more dangerous now. But he's also bound to you by contract. He has good reason to keep you alive and safe. You've turned your greatest threat into a stakeholder in your success."
"That's... a twisted way of looking at it."
"I am the god of lies and manipulation. Seeing things in a twisted way is my specialty." Loki closed his eyes. "Also, consider this: in your original timeline, Sauron eventually loses, right?"
"Yes. Thousands of years later, but yes."
"And how do they defeat him?"
"They destroy the One Ring. In Mount Doom where it was forged."
"So their fundamental weakness hasn't changed. You've just added extra steps to the process. Instead of just destroying the Ring, now they'll have to destroy the Ring PLUS their Horcruxes. Difficult, yes. But not impossible."
Marco processed this.
"You're surprisingly logical for someone who was just crushed by Sauron."
"Defeat brings perspective. Besides, elven healing drugs are FANTASTIC. I'm feeling philosophical." Loki opened one eye. "Now go to sleep. Or I'll have to knock you unconscious myself. And in my current state, I'd have to ask someone else to do it, which would be embarrassing for both of us."
Marco laughed despite everything.
"Fine. I'll sleep."
"Good choice."
Rivendell - Imladris - Day 4 from EregionTime: Sunset
Marco's first glimpse of Rivendell took his breath away.
He had seen the movies. He had admired the CGI. But NOTHING prepared him for reality.
The hidden valley stretched out before them, with elven buildings that seemed to grow naturally from the waterfalls and cliffs. Slender bridges spanned streams of crystal-clear water. Gardens bloomed on impossible terraces. And above all, there was a feeling of PEACE so profound that Marco felt it in his very bones.
"Welcome to Imladris," said Elrond, smiling for the first time since Eregion. "My home. And now, temporary refuge for the people of Celebrimbor."
The caravan descended the hidden path. The refugees—exhausted from days of travel—began to weep with relief when they saw the valley.
The Elves of Rivendell came out to greet them. There were hugs, tears, and reunions of families who had been separated.
Celebrimbor dismounted from his horse, looking around with an expression that was a mixture of gratitude and sadness.
"I left my city. My forge. Everything."
"But you saved your life. And your knowledge," Círdan said gently. "Eregion was stone and metal. That can be rebuilt. You cannot be replaced."
"Elrond has already offered me a forge here. He says I can settle here, continue my work." Celebrimbor tapped the Starforge Hammer at his belt. "And with this tool... perhaps I can create things that make the Rings look like children's toys."
"That's the spirit," Marco tried to sound animated.
Celebrimbor stared at him intently.
"Marco, I owe you my life. Not just mine—the lives of thousands of my people. That debt is unpayable."
"It's not debt. It was a business transaction. You got the hammer, I got..." Marco stopped. What exactly had he gotten? The gold and privileges of Elrond hadn't fully materialized yet.
"You've made an enemy," Celebrimbor said gently. "Sauron now knows about you. He has you marked. And though your contract protects you, never underestimate Sauron's ability to find loopholes."
"I know."
"Then let me give you something more valuable than gold." Celebrimbor removed a simple ring from his finger—not one of the Rings of Power, just a silver band. "This is my personal mark. Any elf who sees it will know you are under my protection. Wear it when you travel. It could save your life."
Marco took the ring, surprised by the emotion in his throat.
"Thank you."
"No, Marco Antonio Durán. Thank you."
Elrond's Hall - That NightMeeting: Elrond, Círdan, Celebrimbor, Loki (in an elven wheelchair), and Marco
They had postponed this conversation during the trip, but they could no longer avoid it.
Elrond poured Elven wine—Dorwinion, he explained—and waited until everyone had a cup before speaking.
"Mark, you've been in Middle-earth for less than a week. In that time you've: killed orcs, negotiated with me, saved Celebrimbor, evacuated an entire city, and made a deal with Sauron himself." Elrond took a sip of his wine. "That's impressive productivity or impressive chaos. I'm not sure which."
"Probably both," Marco admitted.
"We need to discuss the implications of your deal with Sauron. Specifically: what exactly did you sell him?"
Marco had prepared this explanation. He had consulted with TARS about how much to reveal.
[Be honest but technical. Give them enough information to understand the severity without giving them the knowledge to replicate it.]
"I sold him a method of immortality called Horcrux. It comes from another universe where magic works differently. Basically, it allows you to divide your soul into fragments and anchor them to physical objects. As long as those objects exist, the person cannot die permanently."
The silence in the room was absolute.
Círdan slowly put down his cup.
"To split the soul. That is... that is magic darker than anything Morgoth taught Sauron."
"I know."
"And you gave this to him VOLUNTARILY?" Celebrimbor looked horrified.
"I had no choice. It was that or die. And take everyone with me."
"But now Sauron is virtually indestructible—"
"She was already practically indestructible," Loki interrupted. He had insisted on attending despite his injuries. "Her soul was already bound to the One Ring. This only adds layers. Yes, it makes things more complicated. But it also creates new vulnerabilities."
"What vulnerabilities?" Elrond asked.
"Each Horcrux is a physical object that can be destroyed," Marco explained. "And each soul split makes the person more mentally unstable. Sauron is already a paranoid megalomaniac. Adding Horcrux instability could make him make mistakes he wouldn't have made before."
"Or make it more dangerous and unpredictable?" Círdan countered.
"Possibly. I'm not going to lie—I don't know all the consequences."
Elrond leaned back in his chair, studying Marco.
"I understand why you did it. In your position, with an army at the gates and no time for alternatives... I probably would have done the same. But Marco, you need to understand: you have just extended the War of the Ring potentially for centuries. Future generations will fight against Sauron, whom you helped to make more resilient."
The words hit Marco like a physical punch.
"I know," she whispered.
"And can you live with that?"
Marco looked at his wine glass. The golden liquid sparkled in the candlelight.
"I have to be able to. Because I can't undo what I did. I can only... try to balance it. Help the people who will eventually fight against it. Give them tools, too."
"That brings us to the next point," Elrond said. "Your shop. Your resources. If you can sell power to Sauron, you can sell power to his enemies. Correct?"
"Yes. With the restriction that I cannot specifically sell anti-Sauron items. That would violate the contract."
"But you can sell general defenses. Powerful weapons. Knowledge."
"Yeah."
"Then I propose this," Elrond leaned forward. "You establish a permanent operation here in Rivendell. We give you space, protection, and access. In return, you give my warriors priority access to your inventory. Not exclusive—you can sell to others—but priority."
"What about my agreed-upon payment?" Marco asked. "50,000 elven gold plus access."
"That still stands. But IN ADDITION to that, this is a long-term alliance. Think of it as a mutual investment."
[Marco, this is a huge offer. Rivendell will be one of the last elven refuges for millennia. Having a base here is strategically invaluable.]
"What do you think, Loki?" Marco asked.
"Accept," Loki said without hesitation. "You need a base of operations. And being under Elrond's protection means that even if Sauron finds a technicality in your contract, you'll have backup. Besides..." he smiled, "...Rivendell has excellent food. I've tasted the elven bread. It's magical. Literally."
Celebrimbor added:
"And I'll be here. I can work with you, creating custom items for your clients. Collaboration could be mutually beneficial."
Marco looked around the table. These weren't just temporary allies. They were offering something deeper.
Association.
Community.
Home.
"I accept," said Marco. "I will establish a permanent base in Rivendell. And I will give priority access to Elrond's warriors."
"Then it is decided." Elrond raised his glass. "To unlikely alliances and uncertain futures."
"Don't die stupidly," Loki added.
"To create beautiful things in dark times," Celebrimbor said.
"To honest trade and mutual gain," Marco said.
The glasses clinked.
And Marco felt something he hadn't felt since his death:
Belonging.
Marco's Guest Room - Midnight
Marco couldn't sleep. Again.
This time not out of guilt but out of anticipation.
[Am I awake again?]
"I can't turn my brain off, TARS. Too many things have happened."
[Summary of this week's events: Transported to another world. Trained for 2.5 subjective years. Sold out god and demon. Met elven legends. Saved a city. Negotiated with the Dark Lord. Established a base in Rivendell. Yes, it's been a busy week.]
"What now?"
[Now you build. You have survived the chaotic introduction phase. Now comes the establishment phase. You need:]
Organize your store permanently2. Develop customer relationships.
3. Continue your own training.4. And eventually... deal with the consequences of your actions
"That last part worries me."
[It should. You changed history significantly. Celebrimbor alive, Eregion partially preserved, Sauron with new knowledge... those ripples will spread. Some changes will be good. Others... not.]
"Do you think I did the right thing?"
[There is no 'right' in impossible situations. There is only 'survival and dealing with the consequences'. You did that. Now for part two.]
Marco got up and walked to the window. Rivendell glowed softly in the night, illuminated by magic lanterns that never went out.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
And he had helped keep it that way. For now.
"TARS, show me my current stats."
[Loading updated profile...]
╔══════════════════════════════════════╗║ MARCO ANTONIO DURÁN - WEEK 1 ║╚══════════════════════════════════════╝
PHYSICAL STATISTICS:
Strength: 28/100Speed: 31/100Resistance: 40/100Agility: 29/100
MENTAL STATISTICS:
Intelligence: 25/100Wisdom: 25/100 (↑7 - experience gained)Charisma: 35/100 (↑3 - successful negotiations)Willpower: 45/100 (↑5 - withstood Sauron's pressure)
SKILLS:
Sword Combat (Level 4/10)Hand-to-Hand Combat (Level 5/10)Nen: Ten (7/10), Zetsu (6/10), Ren (5/10)Hatsu: Merchant's Eye (Level 4/10) (↑1)Negotiation (Level 6/10) (↑2)Survival (Level 4/10) (↑2)
ALLIES:
Loki Laufeyson (Asgardian God - Close Ally)Elrond (Lord of Rivendell - Ally/Partner)Círdan (Shipwright - Ally)Celebrimbor (Master Smith - Ally/Debtor)
ENEMIES/COMPLICATIONS:
Sauron (Dark Lord - Client/Threat Neutralized by Contract)Muzan Kibutsuji (Demon King - Restricted Client)
REPUTATION:
Among the Elves of Rivendell: POSITIVE (Savior, Trusted Merchant)Among Refugees of Eregion: HEROIn Sauron's circles: KNOWN (Merchant of Interest)Multiversally: UNKNOWN (there is no information network yet)
RESOURCES:
Multiversal Credits: 260,000 MCElven Gold: 50,000 coins (pending delivery)Base of Operations: Rivendel (confirmed)Equipment: High-Quality Elven
ACTIVE MISSIONS:
Recover: Gurthang Sword, Elessar, Barahir RingEstablish: Permanent shop in RivendellDevelop: Multiversal customer network
NEXT SCHEDULED CLIENT:Awaiting assignment...
Marco studied his statistics. He had grown. Not dramatically, but consistently.
"When is my next client coming?"
[The system works based on need and opportunity. It could be tomorrow. It could be this week. But when it comes...]
"That?"
[It will be someone interesting. The system doesn't send random clients. Each one has a reason to be here. Each one challenges you in a unique way.]
"Great. More pressure."
[That's the life of a multiversal trader. Were you expecting a boring routine?]
"A little boredom would be nice."
[Then you chose the wrong profession.]
Marco Rio.
"Yes. I suppose so."
She stood at the window, gazing at the stars. They were different from the stars of her world. Brighter. Closer. As if she could reach them.
"TARS, do you think my family is proud of me? Wherever they are?"
[I can't answer that. But if it helps: you've saved thousands of lives, made allies of legends, survived the impossible, and maintained your humanity through it all. That's more than most people accomplish in a lifetime.]
"But I gave dangerous knowledge to a monster—"
[To save innocents. Context matters, Marco. You're not a villain. You're a human being doing the best he can in impossible situations.]
"When did you become a philosopher?"
[I was reading a database of multiversal philosophy while you were busy almost dying. Schrödinger's thinking is particularly interesting.]
"The one with the cat?"
[That's the one. But he also wrote about morality in impossible contexts. Basically: you can't judge decisions without understanding the full context. And you, Marco, have never had the full context. You've been improvising in survival mode since day one.]
"So what do I do now that I have time to breathe?"
[You learn. You grow. You prepare. Because the next challenge always comes. But also: you live. Enjoy Rivendell. Eat elven food. Train without the pressure of imminent death. Make friends.]
"Friends?"
[Loki clearly considers you a friend. Celebrimbor owes you a debt, but also genuine affection. Elrond respects your integrity. These aren't just business dealings, Marco. These are real relationships.]
Marco felt warmth in his chest.
"You're right."
[I usually have it.]
"Don't be conceited."
[I am AI. Bragging is part of my programming.]
Marco finally moved away from the window and got into the ridiculously comfortable elven bed.
"Good evening, TARS."
Good night, Marco. Tomorrow your new life begins. Try not to ruin it right away.
"No promises."
And for the first time since his arrival in Middle-earth, Marco Antonio Durán slept soundly.
No nightmares.
Without guilt.
Only peace.
Because he had survived his first week in another world.
And if I could survive that...
Maybe, just maybe, I could survive anything.
[END OF CHAPTER 12]