Early in the morning, Johnny revved his matte black motorcycle, riding slowly around the workshop yard to test the balance of the steel sidecar he had just welded overnight. The suspension felt sturdy and stable.
Hearing the commotion, Garrick—Johnny's father—came out the back door yawning, holding a cup of hot coffee.
"It's rare for you to modify your motorcycle, Son?" Garrick asked in surprise, pointing at the extra iron frame. "What is a sidecar that big for?"
"To go riding with Aerith, Dad. So she can sit more comfortably and not catch too much wind," Johnny answered casually while turning off the engine.
Johnny swallowed a bitter lump in his throat. He still wasn't ready to tell the truth that the "ride" he meant was a journey across the Western Continent.
"Oh, I see. It's good that you're thinking about your fiancée's comfort," Garrick smiled understandingly.
"Dad, I'm heading to Sector 6 first. There's something I have to pick up and fix," Johnny excused himself, grabbing his jacket.
"Okay, be careful on the road," Garrick replied without the slightest suspicion.
Johnny sped his motorcycle to Sector 6. He parked his vehicle near Chocobo Sam's delivery station as usual, then walked into an alley in Wall Market. His destination was only one: finding Uncle Izo, the eccentric blacksmith who forged his Dragon Slayer sword.
In front of a hot workshop hung a simple wooden signboard with Wutai Kanji characters written boldly: "KAZAN" (Volcano).
Hearing the heavy footsteps of steel boots, Uncle Izo, a muscular man in a thick leather apron, turned around. "Hello, my VVIP Customer! Is there anything I can help you with this early in the morning?"
"Uncle, is my armor order finished?" Johnny asked, straight to the point.
Uncle Izo wiped his sweaty chin. "I've made the items, Johnny. But they aren't one hundred percent perfect like the blueprint you requested. I haven't made the arm sleeves yet. There's only the breastplate, pauldron, and greaves."
"That's fine, Uncle. Give them to me. I need that armor now," Johnny stated firmly.
Izo stared at Johnny with a furrowed brow. "Why are you suddenly in such a rush? Are you going to war?"
"Yes, Uncle," Johnny answered flatly. He took the giant sword off his back and placed it on the forging table. "And could you sharpen this Dragon Slayer while you're at it?"
"Alright. Leave it there and go into the fitting room. Your armor is in that wooden chest."
While waiting, Johnny tried on the steel armor set. He fastened the thick leather belt that held the pitch-black steel breastplate wrapping his chest, then attached the greaves to his legs, and finally secured the asymmetrical pauldron on one of his shoulders.
As he looked at his reflection in the dull mirror of the fitting room, Johnny's breath hitched.
The shape, weight, and design of these steel plates... truly resembled the armor he wore in his past, long before he obtained the Berserker Armor. This was Godot's armor. The coldness of the iron touching his skin, along with the familiar weight pressing on his shoulders, seemed to reawaken the memories of his past in Midland.
Puck, who was in invisible mode, flew and landed on Johnny's iron-clad shoulder.
"Exactly like before, Boss," Puck whispered, his tone sounding amazed yet shivering at the dark aura enveloping his master once again.
"Right... exactly like before," Johnny muttered quietly, clenching his fist.
Meanwhile, in the front room, Uncle Izo was working hard grinding the Dragon Slayer to make it symmetrical again. In his past world, Godot—the legendary blacksmith—would need days to repair this giant sword using traditional methods. However, Midgar possessed industrial technology.
Izo didn't just rub it with a manual whetstone. He reheated the edge of the blade with a high-temperature melter, forged it with a power hammer to level out deformations, injected special materials to repair micro-cracks, and then ground it with a high-speed sanding belt until sparks flew.
In just half a day, the black sword blade was sharp and deadly again. After polishing Johnny's armor with anti-rust lubricant, Izo handed everything over.
Johnny equipped the Dragon Slayer on the back of his armor. It felt like a perfect fit. He tossed a full bag of Gil onto the table as payment.
"Your work is always extraordinary, Izo," Johnny praised while adjusting the position of his sword strap. "Do you have any family or a successor out there?"
"Of course!" Izo laughed proudly while counting his money. "I have a son. His name is Izo Junior!"
Johnny smiled mockingly, an old habit that resurfaced along with this armor. "A very creative and memorable name. Just added the word 'Junior'."
Uncle Izo laughed out loud, not offended in the slightest. "Hahaha! That's how it is! But make no mistake, he has the same great hand skills as I do."
"In that case, where can I find him if I ever need repairs out of town?" Johnny asked.
"My son lives in Junon," Izo explained. "He's quite chubby and always wears round glasses. He opened a blacksmith shop with a 'Kazan' signboard exactly like mine. Just look in the alley corners near the Upper Junon Main Street."
Johnny nodded, recording the information in his head. "Thank you, Uncle. I will visit your son when I pass through there."
"Be careful, Johnny. Use my sword and armor well," Izo advised, looking at his customer with the gaze of a father.
"Of course, Uncle," Johnny answered coldly. He looked over his shoulder. "This sword has killed thousands of monsters. And it seems... that number will keep growing."