It was dark, yes, but that was to be expected. Shame. He didn’t so much like the dark as he liked being the thing that lurked there.

He would have wondered what the machines he had passed by earlier were made of, get a sense of the material of this Island now that he had seen those odd sigils and pods. Some of it didn’t look in great shape at this time which, his guide told him, was because of “extenuating circumstances” that would be explained to him after he got his weapon. Jack peered into the maw of the cavern skeptically.

He was waiting for a little green alien to tell him that there was nothing in there except what he took with him.

Something far better waited, however. Logically Jack had expected weapon racks and display cases polished to a shine (or conversely coated in cobwebs), or if they were going to go archaic then weapons embedded in rocks. He wouldn’t mind having a little heavy metal in the background.

Ah, he cracked himself up.

Smiling as politely as if someone were conversing with him, Jack surveyed the tiled room with glittering interest. Each step was measured and precise, never touching the perfect right angles as his feet were planted near the center of each slab. It was symmetrical and yet also asymmetrical here from what he could glean of the markings on each portion, and it hummed with sleeping breath. The weapon would choose him the guide had said, but she didn’t say how or when. Hopefully soon, as he had to be familiarizing himself with Deus as soon as he could.

Hands behind his back, Jack tilted his head stiffly in each direction, never reaching out to touch individual tablets even as he heard what might have been . . . whispers in his head? Bristling, he backed away, his smile melting off. What technology was this? Had he moved forward several decades? He had been held in stasis after all . . . And there was clearly a different power source at work here. Pre-emptively Jack thought of titanium and stained steel walls, bolted and upright and enclosing the edges of his mind—

(( Is that metal? I have not encountered such a pure hum before! )) a delighted voice suddenly intoned.

Jack’s instinct was to spin around, fists made. “The hell?” The voice sounded as clear as if the guy were next to him, but there was nobody else in the room . . . He did, however, notice a tablet on the far end (naturally) had begun to glow. Warily, he approached.

(( Hmm . . . You are not the voice, though. But you are another kind, yes! A perfect one. Albeit a bit more hostile than I had anticipated, but, well, what is adventure without a little risk now and then, no? Oh, do come closer! ))

Jack stared hard at the tablet, the green runes etching a symbol that burned into his retinas. It looked like a sword of some kind if he was judging it right . . .

(( Oh, you’re a curious sort! Good, excellent, brilliant! )) The voice trilled his R’s with a rumbling chuckle. (( Now go on, my good fellow, touch me! ))

“I feel as if I’m being solicited for a service,” he deadpanned. Nevertheless Jack felt his fingers twitching as his interest was piqued, and after a moment he reached out and pressed a few fingertips to the stone. The symbol flared to brighter life as the voice sighed in beatific relief.

(( Oh, this will be splendiferous! )) the voice chirped. (( Go on then, friend, summon me! ))

Jack raised a brow and thought to ask, but he felt something shift in his mind as the voice began to . . . pour itself, he decided to phrase it, into his mind—as if there had been a hole there all along to fill. Mentally nudging the new addition, he was surprised to find the tablet disappeared in a bright flash and was replaced with—

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Jack gave a low whistle at the weapon lying in his lap. “This is one big sword.”

The voice rumbled with mirth. (( I could envision it in far grander ways, but . . . It will do, yes. Are you pleased, Jack? ))

He flinched, looking to the hole the tablet had once been because staring at a sword felt strange. “How are you doing that?” he prompted, feeling more defensive with the spirit sitting in his head—

(( Monster. I am a giant, good sir. Owain Gwydion, at your service! ))

Jack got the distinct feeling of a large green being, a flash of images that gave him a quick overview of what—who—laid in his head. (( This, )) he explained, (( is the power of our bond! There is much for you to discover still, and I am simply titillated for us to begin our studies~! ))

“. . . I will agree to this if you never use that word again.”