Planet with no name.
The summit of the volcano finally stood out on the horizon, majestic and terrible. Plumes of black smoke escaped from it in thick spirals, rising toward the purple sky like pillars holding up the celestial vault. Torrents of red-hot lava flowed down its flanks like pulsing veins of fire, illuminating the landscape with an apocalyptic glow. The mountain breathed, alive, and every rumble made the air around me vibrate like a primordial heartbeat.
But the road was still long. Very long.
I had already decided to keep accumulating surprise boxes until I reached the heart of the volcano. Twenty-seven days of accumulation now. Every morning, I carved a new notch onto a piece of black wood I kept in my magic bag. The number was growing, and with it, my anticipation. What would a full month of waiting yield? The Doom Slayer's chainsaw had come with fifteen days. Could thirty days grant me something truly legendary?
But for now, I had to focus on the crossing. I had to use everything I already possessed: my Primarch body, my superhuman endurance, my iron will, and the few items the system had granted me.
---
The journey lasted twenty-two more days through increasingly hostile landscapes.
First, I crossed a valley of cooled lava stretching for hundreds of kilometers. A plain of black basalt, cracked like the skin of an ancient dragon, frozen in tormented shapes. The vitrified rock gleamed under the light of the twin suns, creating obsidian reflections that danced with every step. Here and there, bubbles of solidified lava formed miniature craters, like the pustules of a stone disease. My footsteps echoed on this hard surface, each impact kicking up a fine black dust that hung suspended in the burning air.
Despite the distance covered, I still couldn't see the end of the path. The valley stretched as far as the eye could see, undulating gently toward the horizon like a petrified sea. The black trees were becoming scarce, replaced by strange rock formations, sculpted by millennia of eruptions and ash fallout.
Then I stumbled upon the true nature of this territory.
A chain of black mountains rose before me, bristling with sharp peaks that tore through the sky like the fangs of a monstrous beast. Every summit spewed smoke. Every crevice glowed with an orange light. It wasn't a single mountain I had spotted; it was an entire volcanic range.
Vulkan: "Good lord. I thought it was a single volcano... It's a whole volcanic chain."
The sky above me was completely filled with ash. A dark gray veil that filtered the sunlight, giving the landscape a permanent twilight atmosphere. Silent lightning sometimes streaked through the smoke clouds, discharges of static electricity born from the friction of suspended particles.
A smell of sulfur rose from the vents piercing the blackened ground. Toxic fumaroles hissed upwards, like the breaths of an underground beast. Mini-volcanoes projected molten lava at irregular intervals, geysers of fire that fell back as incandescent rain onto the black rock. The ground itself was hot under my bare feet, vibrating with a telluric energy surging from the planet's depths.
My Vulkan body was in perfect harmony with this environment. Every gulp of burning air filled my lungs with new energy. Every rumble of the ground resonated in my bones like a familiar song. A Primarch of the Salamanders, forged in fire, quenched in lava, was at home here. This hell was my paradise.
---
Two days later, at the end of this grueling crossing, I spotted a plain opening up before me. And on this plain, carved directly into the volcanic rock, were galleries. Dozens of gaping openings sinking into the mountainsides like dark mouths.
I stopped, indecisive. Every gallery was an invitation, but also a potential trap. Some were narrow, mere cracks in the rock. Others were as wide as cathedral doors, their natural vaults supported by basalt columns. The interior of each opening was plunged into total darkness, which even my superhuman vision couldn't fully pierce.
Vulkan: "Which one to choose? I don't fancy falling into a labyrinth. I could get out, but it would waste precious time."
I could afford to survive a labyrinth. My Primarch body could endure hunger, thirst, darkness. But every day spent wandering underground was a day I wasn't moving toward my goal.
I picked up a black stone, smooth and polished by centuries of volcanic erosion.
Vulkan: "Alright. Let's use chance to decide."
I tossed it forward with a sweeping motion. The stone bounced off the rocks with a sharp crack, ricocheted against a basalt column, rolled down a slope of ash, and finally stopped in front of a fairly wide gallery. Its entrance was marked by two rock formations that looked like petrified fangs.
Vulkan: "You're the winner."
I stepped toward the opening. I took a single step. Just one.
And immediately, a sense of danger flared within me. A primal instinct, inherited from the Primarch whose body I wore. My muscles tensed. My senses went on maximum alert. Something was watching me.
A growl rang out. Deep. Guttural. Then a second. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a score of them.
From the darkness of the galleries emerged massive creatures. They looked like gorillas, but gorillas that had evolved in the bowels of a volcano. Their skin was black, blacker than coal, as if it had burned for millennia to form a natural armor. Glowing cracks ran across their hide in places, revealing the lava flowing through their veins instead of blood.
Their arms were as thick as tree trunks. Their fists, veritable masses of stone, rested on the ground as they advanced, staring at me with their incandescent eyes. Every exhalation produced a wisp of smoke that drifted from their flared nostrils.
Vulkan: "Ho. You're the tenants. I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I just wanted to pass through. I mean you no harm, guys."
A heavy silence settled. The lava gorillas froze. Then the most massive among them stepped forward. He was even larger than the others. His back was marked with a blood-red crest that pulsed like a raw heart. The Alpha.
The Alpha rose up on his hind legs, adopting a humanoid posture. He stood three meters twenty tall. His mass was that of a battle tank. He raised his two enormous fists and beat his chest with a violence that echoed throughout the valley like a war drum roll.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The sound was so powerful that the gravel around me vibrated. The other gorillas picked up the rhythm in unison, pounding the ground with their fists, creating a primal symphony that shook the mountain itself.
"WAAAAARRRGGGGGG!"
The Alpha's roar tore through the ash-laden air. It was a challenge. A declaration of war. A universal language that even a Primarch could understand.
Vulkan: "Ho. You don't want to talk this out like civilized folks?"
The Alpha tilted his head, as if he understood my words. Then he bared his fangs in what looked like a grin. A predator's grin. He dropped back to all fours, muscles coiled, the lava flowing faster through the cracks in his skin.
He was going to charge.
I sighed. My magic bag hung at my hip, containing a chainsaw capable of slicing through infernal steel. I could have drawn it. I could have reduced this creature to shreds in seconds. But something in me refused that easy path. The soul of Vulkan, the Primarch smith, vibrated with a new excitement.
This was my first real fight. My first physical challenge since my transformation. The blue tiger had been nothing but an appetizer. This lava gorilla was an opponent worthy of testing my limits.
Vulkan: "Have it your way."
I settled into a combat stance. My feet anchored into the volcanic soil. My fists clenched. The red mark of Kratos glowed brighter on my obsidian skin, as if it was savoring the coming conflict.
The Alpha roared one last time. The other gorillas formed a circle around us, pounding the ground in rhythm, creating an improvised arena. This was no ambush. This was a ritual. A dominance fight. The chief against the intruder. The law of nature at its most raw.
A Primarch against a king of ashes.
The mountain held its breath.
And the lava gorilla charged.